Seducing His True Love (Small Town Temptations)

by Laura Jardine

She didn’t know how long it lasted. Maybe it was a minute, or maybe it was ten. She wasn’t conscious of time anymore, just of her body swallowing up his fist.

  “Do you want to come?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, but she hardly needed it with all that she felt.

  He circled his tongue over her clit. No alphabet this time, or maybe he was doing the alphabet. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to tell right now, not when she was floating like this.

  Her orgasm caught her by surprise, and she screamed, or maybe she didn’t, she wasn’t sure anymore. At some point later, he gently worked his hand out of her. She felt empty now, but she couldn’t help but giggle, because she also felt so good.

  “You like?” he said.

  She giggled again at the ridiculous question. There was no reason to answer. He knew she’d enjoyed herself.

  He looked down at his cock and stroked himself with the hand that had been inside her body—all the way inside her—just moments ago. The lube and her juices made his cock glisten.

  “Can I come in your mouth? On your tits? Tell me what you want.”

  “On my chest.” She feared she would choke if he put his cock in her mouth. She didn’t feel fully in control of herself right now.

  He tugged himself a few more times before his cum, thick and white, hit her breasts.

  “Cassidy,” he groaned.

  Afterward, he captured her mouth for a lazy kiss that just kept on going and going.

  She didn’t want to leave him.

  …

  Blaine cleaned Cassie with a warm towel, and they stayed in bed for a while. She was half-lying on top of him, her head on his shoulder. He expected she must be sore.

  But she seemed giddy, too. That, he hadn’t expected.

  For years, he’d loved the fantasy of having his hand fully inside a woman’s pussy, seeing her body swallow him up. But his own pleasure was what he’d always focused on, not on how the woman would respond. Selfish, maybe, but it had just been a fantasy.

  Until today.

  Now he’d had his fist inside her, and she was an adorable puddle.

  He tightened his arm around her. “I assume you would be willing to do that again, sometime in the future?”

  “Mmm. Yes. Not often—it’s so intense—but yes.”

  He smiled as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

  She’d told him that sex wouldn’t change her mind. She’d told him it was meaningless. Just an hour ago.

  But it was hard to believe she’d be able to leave him after what they’d just shared.

  God, he hoped he was right.

  His life wouldn’t be nearly as good without Cassie.

  Chapter Seventeen

  At eleven o’clock, they sat at the kitchen island, drinking coffee and eating microwaved banana pancakes with a generous amount of maple syrup. Blaine tilted his head and studied Cassie. She’d been in a good mood when they were snuggled up in bed, but she hadn’t said anything for several minutes now and kept frowning at her plate.

  “If the reheated pancakes aren’t living up to expectations,” he said, “I can make you new ones. Or something else.”

  She looked up and blinked, as though surprised to hear his voice. Like she’d been off in her own world and forgotten he was here.

  “Oh, no,” she said, clearly forcing a smile. “It’s delicious. Thank you. It’s not often someone makes me breakfast. And pancakes aren’t the sort of food I cook when I’m alone, so I haven’t had them in ages.”

  “I cook them every weekend.”

  “Just for yourself?”

  “Just for me.”

  He wished he could make them every Sunday for her, too.

  “I have a favor to ask,” she said, all polite and proper—which worried him. “Could you drive me to my friend Rachel’s apartment after breakfast? Just for an hour or two. She doesn’t live far from here.”

  “I assume I am not invited to tag along for this…girl time?”

  Cassie shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll spend the rest of the day with you.”

  Did she want to talk with her friend about him? Did she want to talk about what they’d done in bed?

  The idea made him uncomfortable, and his heart sank at the thought of letting her go, even for a few hours. But he would give her what she wanted.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll drop you off and come back to do some work.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed him on the mouth, tasting of maple syrup.

  But in his gut, he knew that something wasn’t right.

  …

  Cassie knocked on Rachel’s door.

  She’d thought Blaine might have put up a fuss over her going to visit a friend. You were supposed to spend all weekend with me. But he hadn’t.

  She knocked again. A few seconds later, Cole answered.

  “Hi,” he grunted. “Rachel ran out to the store. Said something about Haagen Dazs. She’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “How was the party after I left?”

  “Oh.” Cole held out his arm, and she handed him her coat. “It was a party. You know how these things are. People drink and act like idiots and expect me to have a good time.”

  “Right.”

  “You were the talk of the hour, you and your mystery man. Until some drunk girl tried to mount the blow-up Grim Reaper in the front yard.”

  “Yeah? Who was that?”

  “Can’t remember her name.”

  “Well, thank you for catching me up on all the gossip.”

  “I aim to please.”

  Rachel walked through the door. “Very funny. You don’t give a crap about pleasing other people. Except me, obviously. And that’s just because I’m sleeping with you.”

  Cassie could detect a faint smile under Cole’s beard.

  “I guess I’ll leave now,” he said. “I’ll be back in two hours, okay?”

  “Where are you going?” Cassie asked.

  “I was ordered to vacate the apartment for your little chat, so I’m going to visit my mother.” He put on his jacket and gave Rachel a kiss on the cheek before walking out the door.

  “You didn’t need to kick him out,” Cassie said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Rachel said. “He was supposed to see his family this weekend, anyway.” She brought her purchases—both chocolate and salted caramel ice cream—into the kitchen and served up two decent-sized bowls. She handed one to Cassie. “Whatever the problem is, this should make you feel better.”

  “I’ve already eaten too much junk this weekend. And unlike you, I actually gain weight.”

  Rachel looked her up and down. “You look hot. Where’d you get the dress?”

  Cassie had put on the burgundy dress after breakfast, not in the mood to wear a beaver costume in public again. “Blaine bought it for me yesterday, since I didn’t have any clothes other than the costume.”

  “You didn’t ask him to stop at your place before driving to Ottawa?”

  “No, that was the furthest thing from my mind.”

  “Just thinking about having your brains fucked out?”

  “I wouldn’t put it quite that way.” Although she was happy to talk like that around Blaine. And yes, it was more or less the truth.

  “Fornicating? Making sweet love on a bed of roses? Actually, roses have thorns. Better just to use the petals.”

  “The L-word. That’s my problem.” Cassie groaned as they sat down on the couch with their ice cream. “I think I’m falling in love with him again.”

  “But you told me just a few hours ago—”

  “Yeah. I know.” She gave a short laugh. “That was before…”

  Did she want to tell her friend about her sexual exploits? It would be hard to shock Rachel, but this seemed like something that should just remain between her and Blaine.

  God, there was something seriously wrong with her. Who the hell started to fall in love with a man after he stuck his fist inside her?

  Or maybe she’
d been falling for him all along and was just in denial.

  “We, um… We did something new in bed. A new sort of fornicating, let’s say.” The soreness between her legs would probably linger at least until tomorrow. “I felt all giddy and stupid afterward.”

  “Oh?” Rachel said. “What exactly did you do? Threesome?”

  Cassie scrunched up her face. “Sleeping with a second man would not make me feel closer to the first. That’s weird.”

  Rachel shrugged innocently. “Still possible.”

  Cassie stared at her friend. “You ever had a threesome?”

  “More than once.”

  “Don’t tell me who, or I won’t ever be able to look the guy in the face.”

  Cassie glanced at her hands. Hands that had been all over Blaine’s body this weekend, caressing his cheek, gripping his arm… She quickly dropped them.

  “So what was it?” Rachel asked. “Spanking? Cucumbers? Or perhaps you’re more of an eggplant girl.”

  Cassie’s eyes widened in horror. She didn’t want a vegetable patch in the bedroom. No, vegetables were decidedly unsexy.

  “Please.” She brought her hands up to her ears.

  “There’s something called figging. Never tried it, but you put a piece of ginger—”

  “Rachel!”

  “Sorry, sorry. I was just trying to distract you from your misery.” Rachel pulled her legs up to her chest. “So you did something special in bed with this guy—and I won’t press you for details—and now you’re falling for him. Again.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to leave him tonight. Afraid I’ll agree to all his nice words about us having a future together. And then he’ll break my heart again, and it’ll be just as bad as last time.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t cope with that. I barely survived the first time.”

  Rachel put down her bowl and gave her a hug. “I would be there for you. You know that.”

  “But letting it happen a second time…that’s just stupidity.”

  Cassie didn’t say anything more for a long time. She spooned ice cream into her mouth and looked out the window. Would she enjoy living in Ottawa, like Rachel? Last year, she’d said she would move in with Blaine, wherever his home was.

  She’d been so foolish.

  “What did he tell you about the future?” Rachel asked.

  “He wants to marry me. I even told him about the pregnancy scare, and he said he wanted to have kids with me, too. Everything I wanted before. He lives in a lovely brick house near Bank Street, big enough for a family, and I found myself thinking about what it would be like to live there with him.”

  “That’s a real change from last time.”

  “Yeah, it is. He’s not trying to hide his life from me now. We’ve had such a great weekend together—”

  “And how much of the weekend did you spend getting your brains fucked out?”

  “Um.” Cassie shoved some more ice cream into her mouth. “Not quite all of it. We went out last night, plus he spent two hours at the mall yesterday buying me dresses and a necklace.”

  She couldn’t help but smile when she thought of him at the jewelry store, inspecting everything on display and no doubt giving the person behind the counter a lecture on how diamonds were formed.

  But she couldn’t wear the necklace again, even though it was so pretty.

  “Maybe he wouldn’t break your heart this time,” Rachel said quietly.

  Cassie smacked down her ice cream bowl. “Really? You know when he decided he wanted to be with me? Thursday! Three days ago. Who says he won’t change his mind again by the end of the week? How can I take that chance?”

  “Some people, once they decide what they want, don’t change their minds. They just know. He sounds different now, yet you connect with him just like before.”

  Cassie felt a sliver of hope at her friend’s words. Maybe it really was possible for a man to change. Unlike her father…

  No. She couldn’t do it.

  If she left Blaine today, she would still have some of her sanity intact—although it had certainly been foolish to think she could walk away with her emotions unscathed. If they tried again, maybe there was a chance it would work out, but it wasn’t worth risking so much for that small chance.

  “Sometimes,” Rachel said softly, “the things that are most worth having involve a risk. Like me moving to Ottawa. I was terrified, but I’m so glad I finally got out of Georgeville. And love? Trust me, it’s worth it.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?” Cassie muttered. “You sound like a self-help guru.” She patted Rachel’s knee. “But I’m happy everything worked out for you.”

  “It will for you, too.”

  Cassie sighed. If only. The sinking feeling in her stomach told her otherwise. “You’ve become such an optimist. It’s disgusting.”

  “Would you like it better if I talked about vegetables? I’ve got a couple of zucchinis in the fridge. I could give them to you, if you like.”

  “Rachel!”

  “For zucchini bread, obviously. What did you think I was talking about?”

  Cassie rolled her eyes before reaching for her ice cream. “You seriously think I should give him another chance?”

  Rachel nodded slowly. “It’s worth considering.”

  But Cassie wasn’t convinced.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Blaine got home, he sat at his computer and tried to work on a slope stability analysis, but he couldn’t concentrate. It was unusual for him. He could usually lose himself in his work pretty easily.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Cassie. Earlier, when they were lying in bed together, he’d thought for sure she would decide to stay. But now he wasn’t so certain. After all, she was going to see the flapper girl who’d given him a hard time on Friday. Maybe this weekend really would be the end for him and Cassie.

  It was too awful to contemplate.

  He pushed that thought out of his mind and went downstairs to clean up the living room and dining room. On the table, he found a pencil drawing of an ammonite, and he smiled. She’d probably done that when he was out buying her clothes yesterday.

  He put it on his ammonite shelf, and from another shelf, he picked up the picture of him and his father on Cape Breton two years ago. That was the only remotely recent photo he had of the two of them. He wasn’t sure he even had another picture of them together since his graduation, when he’d gotten his master’s degree.

  It had been his dad’s idea for him to study geological engineering. In high school, he’d been debating between lots of things. Maybe chemistry, maybe geology, maybe electrical engineering. How was he supposed to choose when they all sounded interesting? His father had a colleague whose brother was a geological engineer and had arranged for Blaine to talk to him, and that was when he’d made his decision. It would allow him to take a paleontology course, too, and he’d have the geology background he’d need in case he wanted to study paleontology in grad school. But he’d stuck with engineering. It really was interesting—designing things, understanding how they worked. Plus there were more jobs, and it would be easier to stay in Ottawa.

  He was glad he’d been here to see his father every month, glad he’d been here when he got the awful news.

  There was one other picture on the shelf, an old one he’d found in his father’s photo album when he was clearing out the house. It was of the two of them in Alberta, in front of the Royal Tyrrell Museum of Paleontology. Blaine had been eight.

  It had been his first big trip. His first time on a plane. His father had arranged it the summer after the divorce. A trip that had clearly been planned for Blaine—it was like the equivalent of Disneyland for him. They’d flown into Calgary and went to the Badlands, Dinosaur Provincial Park, and the Royal Tyrrell Museum of Paleontology. It had been awesome.

  Blaine smiled as he remembered that summer.

  His father had always been supportive of his interests. He hadn’t thought there
was anything wrong with Blaine being able to spell the names of a hundred dinosaurs at the age of seven. Hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with him memorizing all sorts of chemical formulas. His mother, on the other hand, had worried that he was too much of a weirdo, not that she ever said it. But his father rarely worried about anything.

  Although Blaine’s parents would argue about him on occasion, as far as divorced parents went, they’d gotten along reasonably well. They’d never tried to turn him against the other. He’d lived with his mother and stayed with his father every other weekend, but they’d talked on the phone most days.

  But after his father’s death, he’d felt like he’d never really understood the man.

  Perhaps he should tell Cassie more about what had happened last summer. He’d told her that his father had died unexpectedly, but he hadn’t explained just how messed up that had made Blaine and why. The complicated grief and guilt. Perhaps that would help her understand what an odd state he’d been in when he’d met her. And why he’d reacted as stupidly as he had.

  …

  Blaine picked up Cassie when she texted him. He brought her home and pulled her onto his lap on the sofa.

  “I want to talk to you,” he said, looking into her pretty brown eyes.

  “Okay,” she said. “About what?”

  “My father’s death… It was a suicide. He drove out to the middle of nowhere, called 911, and shot himself in the head. There was no note. No hint that he was depressed or otherwise sick. He just did it.”

  Her eyes went wide, and she tightened her arms around him.

  “Oh, Blaine,” she whispered.

  “Often we think of suicide as something that young people do. But suicide actually peaks in middle age, at least here in Canada. And men kill themselves more frequently than women, even though women are more likely to attempt—”

  Cassie gently covered his mouth with her hand, then trailed it over his cheek. “Stop with the statistics. I don’t think that’s what you wanted to tell me.”

  No, it wasn’t. But in the aftermath, he’d been numb, and he’d read too much about suicide, taken comfort in tables full of numbers. He memorized the suicide rates for dozens of countries.

  Numbers made sense to him, gave him a semblance of control. The fact that his father had killed himself—that didn’t make any sense.