“Just a sec!” I shouted through the wood. I scrambled around, trying to put my skirt back on. When I opened the door, just a crack, he was standing there, brooding. “What is it, Mr. Casey?”
“We’re drinking. Now.” He pushed the door open, barging right into my room. He had a bottle of dark-colored liquor in his hand, and he loosened his tie when he walked to my balcony and flung open the door. Stepping outside, he called back in, “Get some glasses, will you?”
What a dick.
Again, I almost muttered something snarky, but his mood didn’t seem the slightest playful. So, instead, I turned into a good employee and did what I was told. All the while rolling my eyes and shooting daggers through them.
“Here you go,” I said, handing him one. “Want some ice?”
“No.”
“Want to talk about why you’re so bitchy?”
He glared at me, without turning his face, and poured the liquor into a glass, handing it to me. “I’m not ‘bitchy’.”
“Umm, you are, actually. And why are we drinking?”
“Because. Why do you ask so many questions?” He closed his eyes, inhaled, and took a sip. “Do you like scotch?”
“Not particularly.”
“Water of life,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Drink.”
I tipped my glass to my lips, unsure of why I was even doing it, but leaned my head back and let the amber toxin trickle down my throat.
“Your skirt is on backwards.” Weston tipped his glass at me, smirking.
I blushed. “I was going to change, until you barged in.”
“Don’t let me stop you. By all means, strip.”
“Why are you and Elsa married?” The liquid courage was peaking its ugly head out already. “I mean, it’s not exactly a normal relationship.”
“You really want to know about me and Elsa? Okay…Well, I met her and fell in love with her. Well, the person I thought she was. She wanted a young toy to play with, that’s all. Then I got older, and she got less interested. Long story short, there hasn’t been a Mr. and Mrs. in the true sense, in a very long time. Hence the reason I do as I please.”
I hoped my eyes weren’t bulging from my head like a pug, but I was almost certain they were. “Wow.” Was all I could muster. “So you just sleep your way around Wyoming?”
He laughed. “Well, when you put it that way, you make it sound like a bad thing.”
I looked away, not really wanting to carry this conversation any further.
“Glass,” he commanded, reaching for my now-empty glass, refilling it with scotch. Before he refilled his, he took his tie completely off, tossed it on the concrete of the balcony, and unbuttons three buttons on his dress shirt.
“Can you not do that, please?”
Weston chuckled. “Do what? Oh, this?” He unfastened another, letting me see his body.
Oh, sweet mother…
Is there a factory somewhere that just creates these men? If so, I’d like to volunteer to work in the abdomen chiselling or shoulder rippling department.
Three more glasses of scotch later, I was feeling pretty good. Well, as good as I could be six stories in the air on a small concrete slab attached to a luxurious bedroom suite with my sex-monster of a boss.
Oh, I’m just peachy.
I couldn’t really make out the time on my watch, so when I pulled out my cellphone and saw that it was almost nine o’clock, I clambered to my feet and stepped inside the room.
“Where are you going?” Weston asked.
“I need to use the phone. Is that okay, sir?” I snapped.
He chuckled to himself quietly. Probably planning how he was going to try and come on to me next.
“Mom! Hi, I’m so sorry I didn’t call earlier. Are the kids still awake?” I tried my best not to sound tipsy.
“No, sorry, Riley. They’ve gone to bed. Are you okay, love? You sound different.”
“I’m okay, I’m just really tired. I love you, mom.”
“I love you, too.”
I flopped backward on the bed, almost sighing loudly from just how comfortable it really was. I sunk into the mattress. “Is Alex there? Can I talk to him?”
“Sorry, he had to go to Blaine and Addison’s for a moment. Something to do with a cow.”
I snorted. “Okay. Well, tell him I’ll call in the morning. Love you.”
“Goodnight, honey. Try and get some sleep.”
“I will.” I fumbled with the phone, hung up and closed my eyes, letting it fall out of my hand and onto the bed.
“Well, you should have said something, I would have come in and helped you out of those clothes.” Weston was standing at the edge of my bed, his chest rising and falling with his intense breathing.
“Oh, no. You’re leaving.” I sat up quickly, trying to push away the fuzzy feeling. I took his hand and tried to pull him toward the door to his room.
He pulled me back, like a quick tango move, right into his chest. His eyes drank me up, and I started to feel myself giving into him.
“Please,” I whimpered. “Go.”
“Kiss me.”
“No. Go.” I pushed my forehead against his chin. “We can’t.”
“You don’t know how badly I want you. I’ve never wanted something so much.”
I pulled from his grasp, and stepped away. “Go.” I pointed to the door and he rushed me, taking my face in his hands.
Weston kissed me with all the intensity of a freight train. His mouth assaulted me in the most inexplicable way, and I kissed him back. My hands flew to his hair, fisting and pulling those perfectly soft tendrils.
Our breath was hot, hitched and feverish. Just as his hands left my face and started making their way down my body, I shoved him back. “Out!”
Weston’s face looked scarily sensational, and I could only imagine what was going through his head right in that moment. He raked both of his hands through his hair, with exasperation, and lifted the hem of his shirt up to wipe the beads of sweat of his face.
His body was even more beautiful in the glistening moonlight. I chewed my bottom lip, trying desperately not to say anything else.
“I’ll let you find out what you’re missing,” he hissed. He slowly walked by me, through the door and into his room.
I slammed it shut, and locked it.
Chapter Twenty-One
After my moment of absurdity, I showered. I scrubbed my face and my mouth. Brushed my teeth—twice, and gargled with mouthwash. “What is wrong with you?” I asked the reflection in the mirror. “Why are you so stupid?”
I opened the bathroom door, and the moment my toes touched the carpet on the other side of the door, I froze. I heard screaming coming from Weston’s room—pure panicked shrieking.
I rushed over to the door that connected our rooms, pressed my ear against it again, and covered my mouth with my hand to smother my loud breathing.
“Yes! Fuck!” A woman’s voice barrels through the wood, into my ear. I stepped back, and stared at the door.
The screaming continued, as did a low growling.
“No fucking way,” I whispered, backing away from the door. “He’s actually having sex!” I covered my mouth again, trying my damned hardest not to start giggling up a storm.
He said he’ll show me what I was missing—and boy, if he’s not giving me a show right now. The sounds were so agonizingly gratifying, I almost wanted to open the door and peak into the room to witness the demonstration that he was so obviously wanting me to hear.
Next came the wall banging, either from hands or the headboard. I pictured him on top, plowing into whoever was in there with him. Probably someone he charmed from the downstairs bar and had follow him back up here like a little puppy.
I stepped out onto the patio, closing the glass doors behind me. The noise was even louder out there, as he probably had his balcony doors open too. If I leaned over my rail, around the wall dividing us, I could probably see into his room.
But, I didn’
t dare.
Between the cries of pleasure, groans, grunts, and ooh’s and aah’s, I heard voices one floor below me.
“Man, how much you wanna bet that’s Casey up there?” one voice said.
“Oh, he’s such a pig! He just thinks women are playthings,” a woman’s voice hissed. “He tried hitting on me a few years ago.”
“I bet it’s that woman he was with at the show. One of his agent’s…Yeah, sure she is!” Another man said, and they all started laughing.
“You know, if I was married to that old broad, I’d be looking at younger tail too.”
“Jack! Don’t be so crude,” the woman said again. “Whoever it is…she’s a lucky bitch.”
I stifled yet another bout of laughter, sat down in the outdoor chair and poured myself a glass of Weston’s scotch. His parade of pleasure continued for another two hours—yes, TWO hours. I think he had covered all the bases, and probably every orifice in that woman’s body, too. I lost count on my fingers how many times he made her orgasm.
Yeah, lucky bitch, indeed.
Eventually it quietened down, and I heard faint talking from his room, then an opening and closing of a door. He must have booted her out. I drank the last drop of scotch, and sat back in the chair, looking up at the starry night sky.
A loud fatigued sigh flowed out from Weston’s balcony, and I froze on the spot.
“And that, beautiful Riley, was only a preview,” he said, proudly, from the other side of the wall.
I gaped, held my breath, and all but jump off the chair, into my room. I slid the doors closed, shutting the cool air and Weston’s words out.
***
I fell asleep, for the first time in months, almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. I sprawled out on the giant bed, and faded away, peacefully.
I had another dream. This time, Weston was slowly climbing up the bed, like a panther ready to strike. I laid on my stomach, naked, awaiting his delicious attack. He bent, and streamed down bites and licks up the back of my legs, knees, thighs and across my behind.
I whimpered into my pillow, wanting to beg him for more. When he towered over me, straddling my legs between his, I could feel his rock-hard length pressing against my soft skin. He pulled my hair, pulling my face up, and he sucked on my neck and shoulder.
His hand reached under my belly, lifting it up slightly, so my back was arched. He pushed into me, and I cried out with sweet anguish. He felt just like I knew he would—and then some. After what seemed like an eternity, he withdrew, spreads my legs, and lifted me up off the bed and onto his lap.
I slid down around him, and he reached around my chest, caressing my breasts. Kissing and biting my back and pulling my hair with his free hand.
I cried out, and he groaned into me. Pushing harder and harder, to the point where I thought my eyes couldn’t get any deeper into their sockets. I let go, my body buckling with his touch, and I felt him tighten within me, releasing himself.
My heart flipped, and my eyes flew open.
I was awake.
“Oh, my God!” I screamed, flying off of his body.
It was so dark, but I could see a slight glisten from where his eyes were shining. I pulled back, and threw up my fist—punching him straight in the face. “You bastard!” I cried.
“Riley! What the fuck!”
Panting, I fumbled for the light switch, flicking it on and momentarily blinding myself. When I gained my sight back, my hands flew to my mouth—oh, no.
Alex.
“Baby! Oh, shit! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was you!”
“What? Who the fuck did you think it was? Holy shit, Riley! You punched me!” Alex growled, holding his mouth.
“I’m sorry! I thought I was dreaming, then I get woken up to this! I thought you were—” I didn’t continue.
“I should have told you I was coming. I wanted to surprise you. Fuck if I’ll do that again.” Alex laughed, climbed off the bed and gathered his clothes. “Nice right hand, by the way.”
I laughed. “Come here, baby. Let me see. I’m sorry.” I took his handsome face in my hands and examined his lip. “It’s not too bad. I’m sorry! I can’t believe you’re here. How did you get in?”
“That girl at your work, Sara. She said she’d be here, and would give me your room key so I could surprise you. I talked to her two days ago.”
I blinked, and quietly wonder why she was here and where she was. “Sneaky girl, indeed…Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Can I get you some ice?”
“I’ll be okay. Can we…go back to bed?” Alex raised his brow, grinned at me, and scooped me up in his arms.
I giggled, and made love to Alex again on this heavenly bed. I didn’t hold back, but I didn’t put on a show either. If Weston was going to hear me, he was going to hear how much I loved Alex.
***
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
I lazily opened one eye, my face planted into my pillow. “Ugh…I don’t wanna get up,” I whined, utterly exhausted from the lack of sleep and the fatigue of multiple exhilarations throughout the night.
“Breakfast is here. Sit up, baby.” Alex kissed my shoulder, and tried to push me over.
I sat up, groggily. “I feel like shit.” No thanks to the scotch, I’m sure.
“But you look so hot right now,” Alex joked. “Eat before it gets cold!”
I wrapped the sheet around my chest, and Alex placed a wooden tray over my lap. There was a plate stacked with pancakes—with whipped cream and berries. My favourite. Cranberry juice and coffee, too.
“Where’s yours?” I asked before taking a sip of juice.
“I ate already, you’ve been sleeping for a while.” He sat eagerly on the bed in front of me.
I smiled and looked down at the tray, my mouth already starting to water. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate anything. And scotch didn’t exactly count as a meal. When I started to cut into the pancake, my hands started to tremble and I dropped the cutlery.
I stared at Alex. “Alex…” I whispered.
He smiled, and took his lip in between his teeth.
Sitting on the top of the stack of pancakes was a single cherry, and around the stem of that cherry—was a ring. My eyes widened, and I inhaled while slowly reaching for the twinkling diamond.
“I think I got someone else’s tray…” I tried to make a joke.
“Marry me, Riley.”
I clutched the ring tightly in my hand, flipped the tray right off the bed and jumped into his arms. I don’t think I’ve ever hugged anyone this tightly. “I love you! I love you so much, Alex. I will marry you…I can’t believe you did this!”
Before he got the chance to say anything, I kissed him. My tongue dove between his lips, twisting with his tongue and tasting his captivating mouth. My hands pulled his hair, and then gripped his shoulders when he kissed passionately down my neck and across my chest.
A knock on the door didn’t stop his mouth.
“Alex! The door!” I said, trying to get him to stop, but not wanting him to.
“Ugh,” he groaned. “Stay put.”
“Promise,” I grinned up at him when he got off the bed, only wearing his boxers. I giggled at him, and he quickly pulled them down, flashing his way-too-perfect behind at me, then right back up.
He opened the door. “Hey man, what’s up?” Alex asked.
“Hi…I was looking for Riley.”
Fuck!
I fell back on the bed, and covered myself with the sheets.
“She’s…busy at the moment.”
“Well, I’m Weston. Can you please tell her she needs to be at the convention center no later than nine this morning?”
“Will do. And hey man, I’m Alex. Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” Weston said, darkly.
Alex closed the door and came back to the bed. “Ooh, he didn’t look happy.”
“He’s a dick.” I pulled back the sheets. “But, I love you. And I don’t want to leave you here. Co
me with me?”
“Really?”
I curled my lip at him. “What were you planning on doing all day? Sitting in here by yourself?”
“Well…” he looked around. “No. I guess I could tag along.”
Oh, Weston will love this!
I pulled Alex down on top of me. One for the road…
Chapter Twenty-Two
Today is November 30. It would have been Jeremiah’s birthday. It has been over two months since I lost my father, since Alex proposed to me, and since Elsa Casey finally found out that her husband was cheating.
Sweet (and like I said before, sneaky) Sara wasn’t just answering the phone for Pine Ridge, she was answering Weston’s booty calls, too. It actually explained a lot, once the news really sunk in.
Elsa came into my office about a week after my trip to the home show in Cheyenne. She was in tears, and they seemed very forced, but I gave her my sympathy regardless.
“That little bitch worked her claws into my husband, right under my nose!” Elsa sobbed. “And here I thought he loved me.”
Thankfully I was hugging her the moment she said that, or I would have puffed out my cheeks, looked anywhere but in her eyes, and starting whistling innocently. The woman claimed to have no idea, but I found it hard to believe.
“I’m just so shocked that Sara would do that…” I sat back down in my chair. “She just seemed...normal.” I didn’t know what else to say.
Once Elsa left my office, probably to find her next shoulder to cry her crocodile tears on, it clicked like a light bulb: Weston was miserable that day he overheard Sara gushing about Alex’s looks…and God only knows where she disappeared to after that incident.
Him too.
For all I knew, he was taking it out on her in a completely different way than I had initially thought.
The office had been very…hush-hush. Sara made one appearance. She scurried around, collecting her few personal items, and then left with her tail between her legs. The fictional boyfriend who took her to the Windspur in the past, had indeed been Weston. Maybe, in her world, he was her boyfriend. She was also the woman he slept with (over and over) that night to try and entice me, I just knew it.
Breathless (Meadowlarks) Page 25