by Watson, Gina
She rang the bell. When Cash answered the door, Isa’s knees went weak. He was wearing slim-fitted black pants and a black Oxford dress shirt. He greeted her with his perfect white smile, and his eyes were big and luminous. She wanted to curl up in his chest and live there forever.
“Hey, you,” he said.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yeah, but we’re eating here. I ordered your favorite from Ruth’s Chris; it’s already set up inside.”
Hmm, it seemed Cash had called her hand. She’d do well to remember he was a professional and extremely successful poker player, intuitive to a fault.
She followed him into the dining room. He’d set the table formally. The centerpiece was made of fresh cut calla lilies—her favorite. He’d set out iced water and a French Bordeaux they’d liked to drink all those years ago. She took her seat and he poured the wine. His sleeves were rolled up and when he reached across the table, she saw the bracelet circling his wrist.
His sleeves were rolled up and when he reached across the table, she saw he had many more tattoos than he did when they were in college. When she saw the cloth at his wrist her eyes went wide. “You’re still wearing the bracelet.”
His brow knit together. “What?”
Isa pulled his hand across the table in disbelief. Her head shook as she whispered, “The bracelet I made for you, what was it, ten years ago?”
He twisted his wrist back and forth. “I’ve never taken it off.”
Isa couldn’t believe his admission. “What about for a shower?”
He smiled. “You know I’m a bath man, but no, I don’t take it off, even for a bath. I’ve carried you with me all these years here”—he touched his wrist—“and here”—he placed his hand over his heart.
Isa’s eyes filled with liquid and tears fell onto her cheeks. She sniffled.
Cash tensed and leaned toward her. “Isa?”
She’d never really been much of a crier. Her newfound ability to cry was something that she inherited after what she referred to as the ordeal. She’d gone through some rough times just after he left. He should have been by her side through it all, but he hadn’t even bothered to check on her. Thinking back on it all now, she was uneasy, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to dismiss him. She’d loved him, and that’s why his leaving had hurt so much. And she loved him still. Had actually never stopped. She took a deep cleansing breath.
“Cashel Gray, I swear to God if you hurt me again, I’ll come after you and make you suffer in painful ways. Castration with a dull rusty knife will be too good for you.”
≈
“God, Isa.” Cash was on his feet and by her side in an instant. He pulled her into his arms. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. I swear I’ll be the man you need, the man you want, the man you deserve. Please say you’ll give me another chance.”
“I’ll give you another chance because I love you.”
Cash kissed away her tears. “And I love you. Always.”
“Take me to your bed.”
Cash pulled her to his bedroom. He stood her at the foot of the bed and unzipped her skirt, sliding it down her legs. While he unbuttoned her shirt, he kissed her hot mouth. She wore only fancy lingerie now. He turned her in his arms to take in the sight of her. The thong panties she wore were black satin and matched her bra. “I love your new look, love that you’ve updated your underwear drawer.”
She shrugged. “Cotton is cheap, satin’s expensive. Once I graduated and started earning a good living, I went through a period of self-exploration.” She ran a finger across her breasts, drawing his eye. And drawing a gasp from him. “I decided I liked expensive.”
He bent to kiss her stomach and smiled against her skin. “You did a great job with that exploration. Is that how you came to wear the skirts and dresses and stilettos too?”
She sighed. “I’d never had any dresses before. I’d had the leftover clothes from the kids that had come before me. When I got my first month’s pay as an engineer, I went shopping for work clothes. I didn’t return home with anything but skirts, dresses, and heels. Then I discovered satin lingerie. I guess I’m making up for lost time.”
Cash turned her delicately in his arms and pulled her in close to rest under his chin. “God, you deserved so much more than what you got with me. Do you know I thought of you every hour of every day every year we were apart? You consumed me even at that great distance. I was a fool, but you’re here now, and I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you’re real, that you stepped out of my fantasies and back into my life.” He rubbed her upper arms to assure himself she was indeed flesh and blood.
Hauntingly quiet she said, “I could say the same things. Let’s not dwell on the past, not when we’ve got eight years to make up for.”
He laughed. “You were always the smart one and you always were beautiful but now, in these clothes, you leave me aching. I was hard all day just thinking about your tight skirt and imagining what you were wearing underneath it.”
A smile crossed Isa’s face as she turned and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from his shoulders. He helped her with his trousers. She reached out and grasped his erection through his shorts.
“You’re bigger than you were before.” She pushed his shorts down his legs and held his flesh in her grip. Pre-ejaculate spurted into her hand as though he were a teen—he should be embarrassed, but he never could be anything but comfortable with her. She gripped his cock at the base and went down to her knees. Licking the tip with her tongue, she fisted the base. Cash palmed her head as she took him to the back of her throat. At his strangled cry, she pumped him harder with the suction of soft, wet heat. She reached her hands underneath his shaft and fondled his heavy sack while she worked him over. He felt her everywhere. When he started to moan and thrust, she doubled her efforts. Cash exploded down her throat on a low raspy growl, chanting her name with every pulse. Isa swallowed him down.
When the last of the waves subsided, Cash pulled her up and stripped the bra and panties from her body. Standing behind her, he guided her to the bed. She went down on her knees, keeping her upper body erect. Cash took up the same position behind her. He pulled her up against his body with one hand on her ribcage just under her breast and one hand snaked around her hips, and he palmed her tender flesh. His fingers slid across her cleft, and he massaged her clit gingerly. It was enlarged and hard. Isa let out a long, low sigh, and her head rolled back to rest on his shoulder. His hand kneaded her breast, and he rolled her hardened nipple between his fingers. He wanted her to come as hard as he had. Wanted her to lose herself in pleasure.
“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged. “Rock with me.”
As his touch became more demanding, as he demanded more from her, Isa arched her back into him. She reached her hand to his head and fisted his hair. With the crease of her ass cradling his dick, she rode him as she convulsed on his hand.
“God, your luscious body and your cries haunt my dreams.” Cash pushed her upper body down into the bed to expose her glistening channel to his gaze. She was beautiful. So ripe. So wet. He drew his tip through her wetness and slowly flexed all the way into her. He drove into her repeatedly, increasing the intensity with each plunge. Isa met him thrust for thrust, pistoning against him. When she went over the edge, she carried him with her, clutching him deep inside her core and draining the sperm from his penis with each contraction.
She collapsed on her stomach, and Cash followed her down to the bed, resting his weight on his side. They recovered together, pulses eventually slowing, harsh breaths changing into sighs.
Cash kissed Isa’s shoulder and said, “God, I’ve missed you. Has it really been eight years?”
Her answer was a weak fist to his shoulder.
He groaned. And when he pulled out of her body, his sperm spilled out and down her cleft. He liked seeing her marked with his seed. He knew that his reaction was animalistic, maybe primitive, but he couldn’t help it; Isa had always driven him wild. He felt like a
n animal with her, all territorial and possessive. Always had. And now the effect seemed magnified tenfold.
While Isa recovered, Cash went to the dining room and loaded the food on a tray. As he walked the meal to the bedroom he thought it might be fun if he rendered Isa’s arms immobile so he could feed her by hand. Unfortunately, she was asleep. She looked so peaceful, Cash decided not to wake her despite the fact she was nude and the way that she was positioned on her stomach gave him a bone-aching view of the outer folds of her pussy peeking out from between her thighs.
By morning he’d had her four times, three in the darkness and once in the early morning light. They’d drifted to each other in their sleep, both initiating sex. It had always been that way with them. He let her sleep and walked to the kitchen to fix them some breakfast. He fried pan sausage, cut up oranges, scrambled eggs, and toasted bread. As he was preparing coffee, he heard the front door open.
Camp was home.
Cash was clad in only his boxer shorts as he loaded the coffee filter into the basket. With his peripheral vision he watched Camp snag a sausage patty that was draining on a paper towel.
Cash punched him in the meaty part of the arm with his closed fist.
“Fuck, what the hell was that for?” Camp rubbed out the sting with his hand.
“You know what that was for, clown dick.”
Camp shrugged. “What’s your problem? I saw Isa’s car outside, so she stayed the night. You reconsummated your relationship, I take it.”
“I prefer knowing my hand ahead of time so I can control the outcomes. You know that.”
“Yeah, well, I thought it might be good for you to shut off that noggin’ of yours and just follow your gut. Besides, I’m the one who has been here for her the past eight years since you left. I know her well, hire her for most of our jobs. I’ve been looking after her.” He pushed a stiff finger into Cash’s chest. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”
Camp walked to the table. “After three years of working with us, she’s become part of our family. She’s my friend, and I was worried about her.”
Cash crossed his arms and watched, wondering where Camp was going with his summary.
“You should know she hasn’t been with anyone since you left, despite my efforts in hooking her up. That’s like eight years.”
Cash was speechless. Isa, as beautiful and smart as she was, hadn’t been with anyone since he left? She’d been an innocent when they’d met. And that meant she’d only ever been his. His heart swelled with love and desire for her. Then he felt guilt press into him like a weighted blanket. She’d waited for him for eight years. Waited almost a decade for him to get his shit straight. Had she hoped he would somehow get back to her? God, when she’d promised she’d love him forever, she’d meant it.
And what did Camp just say? That he tried to hook her up?
“Who did you hook her up with?”
“Some buddies of mine.”
Cash’s lips tightened. He had no right to be jealous, but he was out of control. “Buddies fucking plural?”
Camp laughed.
“It amounted to her being here to watch the game and then they’d show up, flirt with her, hit on her. She turned them all down. Every single one. I finally asked her why, and she told me she wasn’t ready. To tell you the truth, I wanted her to move on, to forget about you and find someone who would appreciate her, but it was clear that was never going to happen. The other day, after you mentioned staying in Whiskey Cove for a while and I could see that you had seriously changed, I thought”—he shrugged and opened his hands—“I thought I might as well give you guys a shot.”
Cash sat at the table and focused on Camp’s words. “So if I’d simply left, you wouldn’t have told me any of this? I’d have been blind and stupid about Isa twice.” He scratched at his jaw. “I’d have walked away, screwing my changes, never knowing she was here, never knowing she could be mine, never knowing…”
He pounded the table. “Damn you, you son of a bitch.”
Camp took the chair across from him. “But I did tell you. And you need to make a commitment to her, do right by her this time. She loves you and I know you love her.”
Cash rubbed the heels of his hands into his stinging eyes. “I realize that and I’m going to. I’m going to treat her as she deserves.”
Isa walked into the kitchen clad only in Cash’s black Oxford shirt. She yawned, walked to Cash, and sat in his lap. Leaning her head on his chest, she looked to Camp and said, “Welcome back.”
After the three of them enjoyed the breakfast Cash had made, Isa left, telling them she’d see them at the work site.
Cash would’ve asked her to stay, to shower with him, but he understood her need for space.
The morning rushed by, and at lunchtime Camp brought in chopped barbecue and fixin’s. The three of them ate together in the portable building that housed the temporary office. As Isa was peering through the newspaper, she excitedly announced, “Hey, Bernard Larue is playing at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.” She looked at Cash. “Remember when he came to the college? God, he was good.”
Cash did remember. They’d purchased his CD of love songs and gone home to dance and make love long into the night. Cash was smiling at Isa when he said, “Let’s get tickets and go.”
“That would be the best!” Isa leaned forward, her huge brown eyes full of excitement. She scanned the paper and a downhearted sigh escaped her lips. “Well, wouldn’t you know? It’s sold out. I can’t believe that. It’s still eight weeks away, yet there are no tickets available.”
The door scraped open, and a tall guy bent himself in half to get inside the entrance. His eyes homed in on Isa immediately.
“Isa, Camp.” He nodded when he made eye contact with Cash. “You must be Cash.”
Isa’s face lit up, and Cash hated that another man could light her up that way.
“Hey, Grandy.”
He leaned in and hugged her. Cash hated Grandy already.
“Is my gravel here?”
“Guys are just unloading it now.”
She smiled up at him as he looked down her blouse. He’d be a fool not to take advantage of that height. He was still touching her, and Cash was barely holding it together as his fists clenched under the table.
“Bernard Larue?” Grandy pointed to the paper in Isa’s hands. “I’ve got tickets to that gig. I’d love to take you.”
That was it. Cash stood and walked over to put his arm around Isa. Grandy was smart and retreated when he did.
“Actually, Gandy, we’ve already made plans to go.”
He arched a brow at Cash. “It’s Grandy.”
Isa turned to Cash with a wrinkled nose. “We have tickets?”
He flashed Isa his most alluring smile. “Oh yes.”
Cash would get his hands on tickets if it killed him. He was well connected as a result of his time in Vegas and knew several entertainment managers.
He wouldn’t let a guy named Grandy make time with Isa. Not today. Not ever.
5
Cash and Isa rekindled their relationship in every way, the weeks passing quickly as they stepped right into the friendship and easy intimacy they’d known in college. Cash doted on Isa, and she let him.
He drove into the office, smiling, thinking that he was about to see her and dote on her some more.
He loved buying her gifts and though today’s gift was different from what he’d been giving her lately, she’d go nuts for it. He’d been the one going nuts over the other gifts, so it was time to shake things up.
When he got stopped at a light, he pictured one of his favorite gifts.
He’d been treating her to pretty and expensive French lingerie and panty-things he didn’t know the names of, and she made a huge production of strutting around and modeling them every time he gifted her with something new, so there had been many such gifts.
One pair of panties was particularly successful at having him cream his shorts. Isa ca
lled them tanga panties. They were black lace. And the lace hugged the lower curve of her butt cheeks, but it was like someone had cut away most of the material and fastened straps to the lace. The straps crisscrossed over her ass, leaving most of it exposed to his gaze, including the most important part, her anal bud. A satin tie bound everything together. She wore matching lace-top thigh highs with it.
When she wanted to be especially alluring, she’d ask if she should wear the black scrap under her clothes. When she wanted him instantly hard and wild, she wouldn’t ask. She’d just flash him an ass cheek cradled in black lace and race him to the bedroom.
They didn’t always make it.
He was startled when a horn sounded behind him. He grinned, waved at the other driver, and drove on.
Mooning over Isa at a traffic light? He had it bad.
But everything about her was so good.
He went back to images of her in her lingerie.
Her ass was one of his favorite things. It was full and cheeky, plump and firm. He wanted to take her there, but hadn’t thought they were ready for that just yet. He’d done it many times before, when they were in college, but anal sex required trust. And trust was what they were currently rebuilding. He didn’t want to do anything to halt the progress they’d made, so he satisfied himself with pulling at the tie and caressing her glorious ass. He loved to bend her over the bench at the foot of her bed and finger her pussy and massage her clit until she came. And then he’d use his tongue and the moisture she’d made to penetrate her coiled bud. He’d gotten as many as two fingers inside before he had to have her. It always played out the same—he’d plow into her while finger-fucking her ass. And God, when he did it, she hummed like a purring, well-tuned engine. Those fucking tanga panties were currently packed in her overnight bag, put there by Cash himself. He’d made surprise plans for them for the weekend.