by Remy Landon
Straight-faced, Cassandra leaned over the table and lowered her voice. “Walter, if you must know, Stan and I have been seeing each other for a while now. We're trying to keep it a secret, because Bruce wouldn't want me dating a customer.” She winked at Stan who winked back and then shot Walter a triumphant look.
Walter slapped his knee, his ample belly jiggling as he laughed. “Be careful, darlin' –Stan might act all cool and calm on the outside, but inside, his rickety ole heart's doin' back flips! You might need to summon the medics!”
“The truth is, I love both of you equally, and it would be basically impossible to decide which one to pick.”
Stan grinned. “The truth is, we're a coupla crotchety old farts, and you're a doll to entertain us.”
Allison appeared and shoulder-bumped Cassandra. “I hate to interrupt all this frivolity, but one of your orders is up.”
“Thanks...I'll be back with your meals and more entertainment in a bit.” Cassandra squeezed Walter's hand and blew a kiss to Stan as she followed Allison to the kitchen.
“Are those guys the sweetest, or are they the sweetest?” Allison slid steaming platters of blackened catfish and barbecued chicken onto Cassandra's tray, a smile on her round face.
“Absolutely, the sweetest.”
“Two peas in a pod.” Allison followed Cassandra back into the main dining room, grabbing a stack of napkins for her tray. “Hey, later when we're closing, I gotta tell you about the latest with my new guy.”
“Ooooh, can't wait!”
“Yeah. It's going really good. And I'd like to hear about you and the Italian Stallion.”
It was kind of strange how earlier, she'd been reluctant to discuss Carlo with anyone, but now, she almost welcomed it, because it made him more real. She wished she'd had a more recent update to give Allison. The night in the hayloft two weeks ago was the last time she'd been with him, and this was beginning to stress her out. His text messages had been playful and flirty, though, and he'd sent one about how he'd be busy with work but looked forward to seeing her once things settled down. His last text had said, I promise you that I'll come find you soon. You will need to be prepared, because I'm going to kiss you until you're breathless. And if you follow my instructions and ask nicely, I may even touch you.
“Whoa, girl. Where did you just go?” Allison was staring at her with amusement. “I'm guessing you maybe took a quick trip to Italy?”
“I'm a feet-on-the-ground kind of girl, thank you.” Cassandra shifted the tray on her shoulder. “We'll chat later.” She flashed Allison a smile as she left to deliver the meals to her table.
You will need to be prepared...
God. Carlo was seriously going to drive her crazy. How could she possibly prepare herself if she didn't know when he was going to show up? Of course, this was how he operated. It had become obvious he thrived on being in charge. This was no doubt part of the reason he was so successful in business. Had he always been like this in his personal life? Or was there ever a time when he had been the vulnerable one?
Cassandra eased open the folding tray stand next to the family of four at her table and set the tray on top. It was impressive, really, how she could manage to do her job and smile at customers and take orders and clear tables, all the while thinking of tousled black hair and smoky eyes and muscled arms.
Four hours later, Cassandra was slicing pies for the next day as part of closing chores.
“My favorite part of the shift,” Allison sighed contentedly. “The end of it.” She finished turning over the last of the chairs on top of the table and began to sweep the floor.
“So true.” Cassandra slid the spatula under a piece of pecan pie.
“Okay, Cass. I've told you about my guy, we've made small talk, and we're almost done the chores, but you haven't told me one goddamned thing about how things are in Italy.”
“I know. I'm sorry. We're like—I don't know. And that's the whole issue. I don't know what we are, or if we're even really anything. I haven't heard from him much lately.”
Allison was beaming. “I can't stand it! The look on your face. You're actually upset!”
“And this is a good thing how...?”
“In all the time I've worked with you, I've never seen you pining over anybody. You've always had this wall around you, and no one's been allowed in. But the Italian Stallion's gotten to you, Cass. You may not want to admit it, but he's gotten to you. You want him—not just the sex part; you really want him.” Her eyes searched Cassandra's face as her voice softened. “I'm right, aren't I?”
It may have been the quiet of the restaurant late at night, or the maternal way Allison was looking at her, or the fact that Cassandra was tired after a busy shift and didn't have the strength to protest, but she found herself nodding. It was almost a relief, admitting it to someone.
Allison squealed. “That's awesome! Does he know this?”
“No. At least I don't think he does. We've been mostly about the physical. I'm not ready to get into emotional stuff yet.”
“The first step is admitting it to yourself, doll. I'm so freaking proud of you. And I'm honored you shared it with me.”
Cassandra got a roll of plastic wrap from the cupboard and began to rip off individual sheets to cover the pieces of pie. “I'm just saying I'm open to get to know him better. That's all. We don't have a commitment or anything.”
“No pressure here, girl. I understand.” Allison bent over to sweep the pile into the dustpan. “Whew. I'm done. Rick's supposed to be in the parking lot. You want me to wait and walk out with you?”
“I'm okay—I just need to put out the salt and peppers and I'm out of here, too. But thanks. And have a good rest of the night. I'm happy things are going well for you.”
“Ditto, kiddo.” Allison put the broom in the closet and came back to give Cassandra a quick hug before leaving.
Cassandra wiped up the stray crumbs on the counter and put the filled salt and pepper shakers on a serving tray. Yawning, she delivered them to the tables, pondering what Allison had said. She supposed it was a bit of a breakthrough, allowing herself to acknowledge her growing feelings for Carlo. Still, she couldn't shake the thought that this would be risky. Ingrid's warning still troubled her. And Carlo's interest in her may have cooled. So even though she had decided she was willing to open the door, there might not be anyone knocking.
She sighed, suddenly feeling heavy with uncertainty. Maybe she shouldn't have confided anything to Allison, not when things were so ambiguous.
“I suck,” she said softly, to the empty booths of the restaurant.“This sucks.” Unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears. Sighing again, she slid the elastic from her ponytail and put it between her teeth as she smoothed her hair and twisted it into a loose bun. She'd have her own private pity party when she got home, complete with a bubble bath, a wine cooler and a little idiocy on the side.
Lights off. Door locked and checked, and checked again. And one more time, because Bruce was always paranoid. She wiggled the doorknob. There. Definitely locked. A ticklish, crawling sensation on the back of her neck. She cringed. Please, God, don't let it be a spider. She reached up to flick it away and shrieked as her fingers met—fingers.
“I've been known to make women scream, but never quite like this.”
Holy fuckkk. It was Carlo. She didn't know if she was more relieved or angry. “What—what are you doing?” She was sputtering, her legs rubbery beneath her. “Jesus Christ, I—you—”
“I seem to have caught you off guard.” Carlo's face split into a delighted grin. He stepped closer into the pale glow of the light outside the restaurant, folding his arms. The slate-colored t-shirt he was wearing accentuated the muscles of his upper arms and brought out the gray in his eyes.
“Yeah, you could say that. Don't do that again, okay? You scared the shit out of me.”
He held out his arms, his eyes wide with innocence. “I told you that you needed to be prepared. Maybe next time you'll learn to
follow directions.”
Exasperated, Cassandra shook her head and cast her gaze on the sidewalk. Carlo moved closer to her and put his hand under her chin, lifting it gently. His expression turned to one of concern. “Have you been crying?”
There would be no use in denying it, but neither was she going to admit it, because if she did, he'd want to know why. And what the hell would she say, when she didn't even know for sure?
Carlo pulled her into his arms and leaned down so that his mouth was hovering over her own. One of his hands slid up the back of her neck, his fingers splayed out under her hair. The autumn air between them held the scent of his warm, minty breath and woodsy cologne; she had to swallow hard to keep from whimpering.
“I've missed your mouth,” he murmured.
I've missed your mouth, too. And your eyes, and your hands, and how you hold me, and the way you make me feel scared and protected at the same time. I've missed you.
“I smell like fried pickles,” she said weakly.
“I was thinking onion rings.” He nuzzled her neck, the stubble on his chin grazing her skin. “You smell delicious. And I'm quite sure you taste even better.”
Cassandra opened her mouth to reply just before Carlo crushed her lips with his own. It was a deep, hungry, reconnecting kind of kiss, and she responded eagerly, not caring that her hair was falling out of its bun, not caring if there were others watching, not even caring if she was coming across as pathetically needy. All she could focus on was how good it felt to kiss him, and how badly she wanted him to touch her.
He broke their kiss and straightened, his eyes warm and bright. “I actually came to ask you a favor.”
If it involves us touching each other in any way, I'm totally fine with it. “A favor?”
“Yes. I've been planning an engagement party for my sister, and I'd like you to go with me.”
She had to take a few seconds to process this. “Go with you? As in, your date?”
He nodded. “The party is a week from tomorrow, and because it's short notice, I'd like to take care of getting you a dress. I'll need you to give me your measurements.”
“You don't have to do that.”
“It's my way of thanking you for going with me. And this way, I can choose what I'd like to see you in.”
His date for his sister's engagement party. Was he starting to think of her in girlfriend terms?
“There will be food, Cassandra.” Carlo's eyes were dancing. “Probably no Pop-Tarts, but food.”
Her mouth opened in protest.
“I like that you like to eat. It's one of the many things I find adorable about you.”
She bit her lower lip in an attempt to keep from smiling.
“And your answer is...”
“You had me at 'food.' So, yes, I accept your invitation.”
“Excellent.” He grinned and leaned down to speak huskily in her ear. “Let's go somewhere a bit more private.”
Taking her hand, he led her down the cobblestone sidewalk, past the hair salon and natural food store, between the pharmacy and chiropractic office to behind the row of buildings. There was no lighting, and Cassandra felt the crunch of what sounded like a plastic coffee lid beneath her foot.
Carlo firmly gripped her shoulders, backed her up against the brick wall and pressed himself against her, his lips on her neck. She shivered, her hands climbing to rest on his broad chest. He quickly took them and folded her arms behind her, placing her hands firmly at her back. “I've wanted to back you up against a wall since the moment I saw you,” he murmured, in between kissing her neck. “Back you up—hold you still—do whatever I want to you.”
Christ. A tiny moan worked its way out of Cassandra's mouth. He silenced her with a kiss, sliding his warm tongue between her lips and grinding his pelvis against her. She was filled with the need to touch him, feel his smooth, hard cock in her hand and guide it inside her. She tried to pull her hands from his, but his grip was tight, and he chuckled softly. “Someone's impatient.”
Cassandra felt the throbbing between her legs intensify. She yearned for him to touch her there. The doubt and worry cloaking their relationship had lifted, and in its place were want and need, rushing through her like a river, pouring into the pockets of loneliness inside her and filling her up.
Carlo was holding her hands with just his left now. “Do you remember,” he whispered, “the time I came to your rescue in the parking lot?” He pulled the bottom of her shirt free from her pants and slid his free hand up to her breast, inside her bra. He scissored his fingers over her nipple, squeezing it.
She gasped. “Yes, I remember.”
“Do you need someone to rescue you now, Cassandra? Do you need someone to save you from me?”
Once again, she was caught off guard. At the very beginning, she would have undoubtedly answered yes. Up until two weeks ago, she still would have wanted to be saved. But now, even while pinned against a wall in the darkness, with no one else in sight, she felt as though he was her rescuer. And the fact that he could be both dominant and protective was as comforting as it was arousing.
“Cassandra.” He was waiting for an answer.
“No,” she whispered. “I don't need anyone to save me.” Except you.
Carlo expelled a long, slow sigh and kissed the top of her head, his hand still inside her bra. She felt her nipple swell and harden between his fingers.
Voices, then, close by. Two silhouetted figures, walking toward the row of buildings—laughing males, their words slurred. Cassandra tensed, her cheeks hot with embarrassment at the thought of being seen pressed against the wall with Carlo's hand up her shirt.
“Ignore them,” Carlo said softly. “Your focus needs to be on me, and only me.”
Startled, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Did he actually expect her to act like these men weren't walking by?
Carlo's expression gave her the answer. He spoke in the same low, confident tone. “I'm betting they'll keep walking, but if they stop, I'll take care of it. Keep looking at me.”
This was so not what she was about. She had never been one to feel comfortable even kissing in public. Fighting the urge to squirm, Cassandra blinked and looked deep into Carlo's eyes. She was aware of the men slowing their pace as they approached, their voices fading. Carlo tightened his grip on her hands behind her back. Her arms were beginning to protest from being held in this position. Slowly, he removed his hand from her breast, and she felt a momentary sense of relief until she felt him unbuttoning her pants. The men were now only several feet away, laughing nervously as they realized the scene they had come upon. Any hope she had of it being too dark for them to see anything had faded; clearly, they knew what was going on.
“Keep looking at me, Cassandra.” Her neck was aching, but she kept her head tipped back to maintain eye contact. Carlo's hand was now inside her panties, his fingers working their way down. What if the men stood there while he touched her? Surely, Carlo couldn't expect her to act like nothing was out of the ordinary. But in spite of the extremely exposed position she was in, Cassandra found herself moaning as his fingers found her clit.
A slow, delighted smile spread across Carlo's face. “Good girl,” he murmured. “And now I'm going to make you come.”
He covered her mouth with his. From the corner of her eye, she could see the two men jostling each other as they continued walking. She was shocked to discover she didn't care if they stayed, only that Carlo would continue touching her.
He kissed her deeply. She could hardly breathe. Weakened with want, she felt as though her legs would give out underneath her, but she was unable to move as Carlo had her pinned against the wall.
His finger circled her swollen clit. “Am I making you burn, Cassandra?” His voice was raw, rough. “I know you want me to fuck you, and that will happen. I promise you. But for now, I'm going to make you come another way.”
The momentary jab of disappointment she felt learning he would not be inside her tonight quickly disappea
red as he got down on his knees in front of her. Sliding her pants past her knees, he took her bare ass in his hands and pulled her pelvis toward him.
Jesus fucking Christ. He wasn't going to do this right here, right now?
She cried out as Carlo put his mouth between her legs, his firm tongue gliding in and out of her opening as he grunted with satisfaction. He used the tip of his tongue to graze her swollen nub with quick, tiny flicks of agonizing lightness, pausing to kiss it gently.
Just when she thought she might scream, he pulled back his mouth to speak. “Not a sound, sweetheart. If you want me to continue, you need to take this without making one sound.”
She couldn't see how she could possibly stay quiet, but holy fuck, she did not want him to stop. He was squeezing her ass harder, holding it tight as he resumed the sweet torture. Now he was alternating between barely-there licks and long, slow, wet laps up her entire slit, varying the intensity as he brought her to the threshold of ecstasy.
Her hands went to his hair, grasping fistfuls of it as he licked and sucked her into a mind-bending, whole-body-shuddering orgasm.
Taking great gulps of the night air, Cassandra was shivering as Carlo slid up her pants and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was breathing hard as well, grinning at her devilishly.
“My God,” she managed. “I can't even think.”
“You don't need to think. Just feel.” He wrapped her in his arms, hugging her tightly. “You deserved that. I'm very happy with your progress.”
“So do I get a gold star?”
He laughed, kissing her forehead. “I'd like to give you so much more.”
Cassandra wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest. She had been given some sort of test, and she had passed. As incredible as the orgasm had been, it was even better knowing she had pleased him.
chapter twenty-eight ~ Carlo
It was good, Carlo decided, to have this time driving to pick up Cassandra for Gianna's party. He had roughly twenty-five minutes to get his thoughts in order and any stray feelings reined in. Staying away from Cassandra these past couple of weeks had been challenging—he had told her he'd be out of town and extremely busy with work which was partly true; he'd visited end users and was tied up with employee performance reviews. Leaving her in the parking lot that night had been almost painful. She had looked so beautiful. And she had been so ready for him, which had fueled his primal need to take her. But he hadn't, and even though it had just about killed him to walk her back to her car, he could console himself with the fact that reason had won out over want.