by K. A. Tucker
“What do you have against orgies?” By the expression on Ben’s face, you’d think he was completely serious.
“What’s an orgies?” All amusement cuts off as heads turn to take in the eight-year-old peering up with curious eyes at a frozen Nate—a raised brow and a fork heading for his gaping mouth.
Dan is on his feet instantly. “Okay! Mia, it’s time to get ready for your sleepover. I’ll drive you.”
“But, Dan . . . ” comes the whiny voice, though she stands and trails him sullenly.“You two are on cleanup duty for that.” Storm juts two fingers out, aiming at Ben and Cain, who both have the decency to look sheepish.
The little girl’s disappointment at being forced to leave doesn’t last long, though, as I hear her excited shriek from inside only seconds later. “Livie!”
“Hello, hello!” Two stunning young women step out onto the patio: one with bright red hair, the other with raven black. Both have the lightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a person, and anyone can see that they’re sisters. Their windblown cheeks and wild manes make me think they were hanging out of a car, driving at high speeds down the autobahn.
The redhead makes a direct line for Trent to bend over and lay a borderline inappropriate kiss on his lips. Her black bikini shows off a solid muscular body, marked with white scars along one side. If she’s self-conscious about them, you’d never know. Given her ass is angled directly in Ben’s face, I’d say she’s either oblivious or just that confident. I wonder if she stripped at Penny’s, too.
“Are you intentionally torturing me with this view, Kace?” Ben mutters. That makes her break free of her lip lock with Trent. She turns to smack Ben’s forehead playfully. “Always.”
The black-haired girl—I’m guessing the younger of the two—quietly places a box in front of Storm before reaching down to rub her pregnant belly.
“Oh! You picked up another key lime pie!” Storm squeals, her eyes lighting up.
“Kacey said we need to keep Genghis happy,” the girl answers with an eye roll.
Storm snorts. To us, she explains, “Kacey swears the reincarnation of Genghis Khan is growing inside me and is trying to conquer the world by eating its entire food supply.” Sitting up to eye the pie with wide eyes, she adds in a murmur, “She may be right.”
The redhead—Kacey, I’m presuming—turns her attention to us, those haunting blue eyes scanning over the table, slowing as they pass over me, before settling on the man next to me. She walks over to pat his shoulder. “Glad to see you’re alive.”
“Good to see you two again.” Gesturing toward me, he says, “This is Charlie. Charlie, meet Livie and Kacey.”
I get a polite smile from Livie. From Kacey, a suggestive brow and, “The Charlie?”
I answer effortlessly, “The Kacey?” though I feel a blip of discomfort inside. I don’t know how I should feel about being a topic of conversation among all these people that I don’t know.
“The one and only,” she answers with a laugh. “Tell me you didn’t come with that schmuck over there?” Her chin juts in Ben’s direction.
“No, but she’ll be leaving with me. Right, Charlie?” His question is to me but his eyes and crooked smirk are on Cain, and I get the impression that he’s intentionally needling his boss about something.
A deep chuckle erupts from the normally reserved Nate. I’m guessing he knows more than Ben does about what happened between Cain and me last night. That or Ben is really that obnoxious. Either is a possibility. All the same, I blush at the idea of Cain giving Nate too many details.
Ignoring Ben, Cain asks them, “What were you two up to today? You look . . .” His voice drifts off.
“Like we just jumped out of a freaking plane?” Livie’s wide, stunned eyes tell me she’s not kidding.
“And it was one helluva rush!” Kacey throws an arm over her sister’s shoulder, her face beaming as she squeezes her tight. A small cheer erupts around the patio as everyone congratulates them on something I could never do, with my deathly fear of heights. Even the idea has a tremble running through my body. Of course Cain feels it and rubs my leg soothingly.
“Nice work, twisted sisters!” Ben calls out around a mouthful of food, sounding genuinely impressed.
Storm’s eyes are positively twinkling as she gazes up at the two of them. ““You didn’t chicken out! Good for you, Livie. I’m going with you next time.”
“No—no next time.” Livie’s head shakes back and forth adamantly.
“Oh, come on! It was fun! Admit it!” her sister prods.
“No. Not fun. Maybe fun later. Right now . . .” She takes a deep breath and sighs. “I’m going to lie down for a bit. I need to unwind. And plot Dr. Stayner’ s death.”
I wonder who Dr. Stayner is. It sounds like he had something to do with her jumping out of a plane.
“You want help unwinding?” Those deep dimples of Ben’s are in full force.
“No thanks.” The answer comes hard and fast, suggesting she expected his offer and had the rejection ready on the tip of her tongue. Still, Livie’s cheeks turn crimson instantly. Spinning on her heels, she’s gone in a flash.
“Good lord, Benjamin Morris!” Storm tosses her napkin on the table. “You are out of control lately. Do I need to have you fixed?”
Bellows of laughter explode from Nate and Trent. Even Ben and Cain start laughing. I’m thinking there’s an inside joke that only the men are in on, because the women exchange puzzled looks and eye rolls.
I can’t help but envy this group as I listen to the easy conversation flowing—the gentle back-and-forth banter and genuine laughs coating the atmosphere with warmth. There’s a deep connection between everyone here, and I can’t say I’ve ever experienced anything quite like it.
As much as I know I don’t belong, all of them are doing their best to make me feel otherwise. And when the plates are empty and being collected, and people begin dispersing in various directions, a trace of sadness trickles through me.
“That was fantastic, Storm,” Ginger exclaims, standing to stretch as a loud splash comes from the pool. Trent and Kacey, diving in together. “I’m going to go float for a bit before I’m forced to work by my slave-driving employer.” She winks at Cain before sauntering off.
Ben’s eyes trail her as if readying to follow, when Storm reminds him, “The kitchen is the other way.” She flashes him a radiant smile as she banishes him to his punishment, adding sweetly, “And make sure you rinse the plates well before you load them into the dishwasher. I had to get a repairman in here last time.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ben is on his feet quickly, that grin of his still plastered on as he leans in over her shoulder and plants a kiss on her forehead. “And I’m sorry about earlier, with Mia,” I hear him offer in an unusually soft tone. As much of an ass as he is, Ben isn’t a jerk. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that. Especially now, as I watch him steal a well-angled glimpse of Storm’s cleavage, which is practically spilling out of her dress.
If Storm notices—which I’m guessing she does, because her hand reaches up to gently slap his face—she doesn’t get angry. I don’t think Storm is the type to easily anger.
“Thank you for the meal!” Tanner hollers, ambling toward the house. “Gotta get back to the apartment now.”
“You’re not going to stay for Dan’s cake?”
Rubbing his protruding belly, Tanner mutters, “Oh, no. I need to get back to my, er . . .” His voice fades as he collects his water gun.
To your antisocial tendencies.
Storm just shakes her head and chuckles. “Glad you could make it, Tanner. Next time, why don’t you bring that lady friend of yours?” Her suggestion only speeds his skinny legs as they carry him into the house. “He met someone online.” Storm waggles her brows at me. “I’m trying to get him to bring her to the wedding.”
The heat of Cain’s hand suddenly vanishes from my thigh and a tiny whimper of disapproval escapes my throat before I even realize it. He never
did try anything more, and that has left me both relieved and frustrated.
With a dark chuckle, Cain begins gathering up a pile of dishes. When I begin to rise, intent on helping, he urges me back in my seat with a push down against my shoulder. My eyes trail him as he follows Ben into the house, his arms filled with dishes.
“He’s definitely a sight, isn’t he?” A secretive smile touches Storm’s lips as she breaks off a piece of piecrust with her fingers.
I clear my throat as a faint blush creeps into my cheeks. Storm can likely see that. Thankfully, she can’t also see the spike of jealousy in my stomach. I don’t want her looking at him like that, even if her observation is true.
When her soft, musical laughter fills the air, I realize she’s teasing me. “Go on, Charlie,” Storm instructs, shooing me away with a hand and a smile, her hungry eyes on the pie. “I’ll join you, shortly.”
With a nod, I excuse myself, making a beeline to slip into the refreshing pool, conscious that the blue of my bathing suit is light enough to showcase any wet spots I may have acquired due to Cain’s attention. My body revels in the slight shock of the cool water as it swathes my skin, taking my temperature down a few degrees. I wish I didn’t have all this makeup on. I wish I could just stick my head in.
I swim to the other end of the oversized pool to discover a separate little spa, complete with jets to massage my tired, achy muscles. Hoisting myself over and in, I lie back and quietly take in the scene. Kacey is floating stomach-down on an air mattress, her attention glued to Trent, who is hanging off one corner. Ginger is chattering away at Nate, whose enormous body—solid with muscle—takes up two-thirds of the staircase.
Storm and Dan really do have a great life here. I can’t help but feel like an intruder—accepting their warmth and hospitality, eating their food, laughing with their friends.
Keeping Dan employed.
Still, I could see myself living in this world—coming to barbeques, hanging out with these people, working for Storm at her school.
Being with Cain.
If only I could get away from Sam, truly put it all in the past.
If only . . .
Twenty minutes of jets massaging my muscles later, as sleep taunts me between occasional hollers from Ginger, I hear the patio door open and close. I lift my head in time to see Cain’s side profile exit.
My body instantly comes alive as I watch the muscles of that molded body—the body I was entwined with last night—shift with each step upon his approach. He changed into a pair of swim trunks that hang dangerously low on that sexy V-shaped pelvis that I knew he must have but am only now getting a good look at. As muscular as Cain is, he’s in no way beefy. His frame is on the athletic side, complete with pectoral muscles that don’t look more like breasts, veins that add dimension to his arms, and an exquisite eight-pack that is almost unreal.
I force myself to blink, hard, to relieve the sudden strain in my eyes.
His eyes lock on my location, and then Cain’s sleek body vanishes into the deep end of the pool in an elegant dive. Is there anything he doesn’t do extremely well? I fold my arms over the divide and rest my chin on them, waiting with heady anticipation as his long form moves underwater toward me, emerging less than a foot away. He folds his arms lightly over mine. He’s so close to me that I would only have to shift slightly to kiss him.
“Relaxed?”
I’m not sure how to answer that, because I’m both relaxed and suddenly conscious of every nerve ending in my body. I dare maneuver a hand free and run a finger along his chin. “You look good with scruff,” I remark casually.
With that dangerous gleam in his eyes that I saw last night, he leans over to whisper in my ear, “You look good, wet.”
My breath hitches. I hadn’t expected that level of brazenness out of him. After last night, I’m not sure why not.
He uses his powerful arms to hoist himself onto the wall. I shift back to give him room as he lithely slides into the spa with me. He loops an arm around my waist and pulls me onto his lap with no delay, reaching down to slide a finger under the material of my top.
I think I’m getting to see yet another side of Cain. A dangerously playful one that chills out with friends and takes what he wants. And taunts me.
“Cain!” I hiss, more in surprise than anything else. I push his hand away as I nod toward the others, though there’s no way they can see what’s happening in the tiny spa, thanks to the little wall and the sheer size of the pool. I doubt any of them would say anything, anyway. Except for Ben, of course, but he hasn’t exited the house yet. “Contrary to what you obviously think, I prefer privacy.”
A flicker of amusement touches his Cain’s lips before disappearing. Stretching his arms out on either side of him along the curved wall, he tips his head back and closes his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m not a pervert.”
His Adam’s apple is jutting out at a sexy sharp angle and I can’t help myself. I reach up and slowly drag my finger along the bump, feeling it move with his hard swallow. When I reach the base of his throat, I don’t stop, continuing down to begin tracing his hard muscles and the patterned tattoos adorning his chest.
I fight the urge to slide my hand farther down, to see how much this is affecting him. Knowing I can elicit such a reaction from a man like Cain is as much a turn-on as having him actually touch me.
His eyes open to watch me as I quietly study him. “I’m glad you came today, Charlie. I thought maybe . . . ” His voice drifts off for a moment as I see his jaw clench. “ . . . that was it.” There’s that look—the same one I saw last night, when he asked me if I was sure. If I was sure of being with him. As if there were any possible reason anyone wouldn’t be over-the-moon thrilled to have Cain’s affections.
His words feel like a punch to my stomach as a conflicting swirl of emotions slams into me. Guilt because he’s right; that was supposed to be it! Anguish that I may have wounded him. Bitterness for the looming expiration date hanging over our heads. Overwhelming desire to erase his doubts right here, right now.
Selfishness.
Pure, raw selfishness to grab hold of him and never let go, despite knowing I shouldn’t. It’s churning deep within my belly and it is impossible to resist.
How did this happen so fast?
My situation is impossible and, worse, I can’t explain it to him. I wish I could, though. I wish I were confident that he wouldn’t think less of me.
“Hey.” One of Cain’s hands lifts to close over the side of my neck, his thumb grazing my jawline soothingly. “Is everything okay?”
No, Cain. It’s not okay. I’m hanging from a pendulum as it swings back and forth between a nightmare and a dream. Only the nightmare is real! When I’m with Cain, nothing else matters. And when I’m not with him, I’m acutely aware of how stupid I am for being here. How I’m so close to being free of Sam and the drugs forever, if I’d just let go.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Cain.” The painful lump forms in my throat again. I duck my head because I’m afraid he’ll see the lie in my eyes. I’m finding it harder to pretend around Cain. Taking a few deep breaths, I struggle to pull on a mask of calm. Or of playfulness. I settle on a mask of emptiness. I doubt it’s a convincing one at that.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly, evidently not buying my words.
I absently trace over the design decorating his shoulder, as a “no” flees from my tongue in a whisper. There’s not much I can say without raising Cain’s suspicion, and so I need to remain quiet.
Like the quiet little mouse that Sam taught me to be.
I’m surprised he hasn’t asked about Bob. He hasn’t even mentioned the other night, though my gut tells me it’s on his mind. It’s as if he’s biding his time before bringing it up.
With a heavy sigh, Cain’s head and arms falls back once again. This time his eyes remain open and I see the frustration in them. “Why do I feel like you don’t really want to be here, Charlie?” I can sense rather than f
eel the tension suddenly channeling through his body.
“I do. Believe me.”
There’s a long pause. “You do realize that the things I told you last night I don’t admit to just anyone, right?” He lifts his head again, his eyes pleading with me.
I can manage only shallow, ragged breaths. I want to be thrilled by Cain’s words right now. So very happy that Cain is being so open with me, so honest. But I can’t, and it’s constricting my lungs painfully. I don’t know how to answer, so I settle on, “Yes. I’m glad I’m here, too,” because there’s nothing more true than that.
That naturally furrowed brow creases further. “Did what happened last night bother you? Look . . .” I see the muscles in his jaw tense as he breaks eye contact, his gaze searching the water in front of us. “I know I can be really intense sometimes. And impatient. And maybe letting that happen out on a pier was less than ideal for you.” Dark eyes flash to me. “Sometimes I’m less inhibited, when I’m not thinking straight.” A hand lifts to play with a strand of my hair. “Maybe we should dial things back.”
What? I feel the scowl form on my face. No! Slow things down? When that damn clock keeps ticking away? No! No! No!
He goes on, seemingly unaware of my internal panic. “I warned you that I don’t know how to do this. Still—”
Cain’s words die with a hiss the second I peel down the front of his trunks and grasp him tightly. He was already hard. “I have no desire to slow things down,” I say evenly, holding his gaze as I begin stroking him.
He locks a steely gaze on me and I start to think I might have gone too far. But I don’t stop. “Thank fucking God,” he finally mutters, reaching down to pull my hand away from him with a chuckle. “But I don’t think Storm will appreciate that in here.” After a pause, he adds with mock seriousness, “Besides, I thought you preferred privacy.”
“And I thought you didn’t like wasting time,” I throw back and then shrug. “Maybe that was payback for the spectacle you made of me on the pier.”
A raised brow is the only warning I get before my body is being moved, sliding off Cain’s lap to land on the built-in seat, my back to the others and Cain’s body between my legs, his knees bent and propping my thighs up, a wicked grin on his face. “You want a spectacle?” His eyes drift down over my vulnerable frame, easily visible beneath the water now that the jets have shut off. Heated eyes come back to weigh down on me, ideas circulating within them that I can’t decipher but that make my body open up to him with anticipation. “You think I deserve payback? How about payback for the last three weeks?”