Talking After Midnight

by Dakota Cassidy

  “Figured I’d only had two serious relationships? How did you figure that?”

  “Because that’s the kind of guy you are, McGrady. A keeper and the kind of guy who likes to keep. And that right there is exactly why this isn’t a good idea.”

  “What isn’t a good idea?”

  “What we’re doing right now.”

  He dragged her body close to his by wrapping an arm around her waist. “How can you say this isn’t a good idea?”

  How could she when he felt so amazing next to her? How could she when Flynn did things to her body that made her want to hang on to him forever. Because in the end, she’d freak out and run away. Just like she always did.

  “I’m a huge red flag, Flynn. We’re total opposites. I’m irresponsible, flighty and, in general, unreliable. You’re responsible and faithful and a complete rock. You’re conservative, I’m far more liberal.”

  He scoffed. “You make me sound like Old Yeller.”

  “You are Old Yeller.”

  “How about you let me decide what’s good for me?”

  “I’ll eventually drive you out of your mind. I’m just giving you a disclaimer.”

  “Like a warning label?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, news flash. I spit on warning labels. Just ask my new mattress. I ripped the label right off the second it got here, threw it on the floor, gave it a good stomping and screamed a rebel yell. Oh, and if you can endure jail, I can, too,” he joked, sliding down her body to finish what he’d started.

  His lips found the space between her legs and spread her wet flesh, taking a long swipe with his tongue, slowly and leisurely.

  Her thighs tensed and her hips rose to meet his mouth. Flynn’s mouth was amazing, his tongue a masterpiece of carnal knowledge. For someone who’d only had two serious relationships, he certainly didn’t lack expertise.

  Cat wrapped her ankles around his neck, gripping his hair when he thrust two fingers inside her, rolling her hips as he ran his tongue over her clit.

  When she came, it was so intense, ripping through her so unexpectedly, she had to stuff her fingers in her mouth to keep from screaming.

  She balled the sheets on either side of her with her fingers when the crest rose, rocking against him until the breath left her lungs and she collapsed on the bed.

  Oh, this man.

  * * *

  Cat’s soft moans of orgasm made him harder. All he wanted to do was settle between her legs, drive into her until total oblivion took over.

  But Cat had other plans. She gave his arms a tug, pulling him close to her as her breathing steadied. The soft whisper of her air releasing from her lips lingered in his ears as she clung to him.

  Then she was pushing him away, rolling him to his back, slinking along his torso until her head rested on his lower abdomen.

  She didn’t toy with him. There was no playful foreplay involved in taking his cock in her hand and slipping her mouth around it.

  He bucked beneath her, the wet heat of her tongue slithering over his length blowing his mind.

  She stroked, long slow passes, mimicking his earlier ministrations until his chest tightened and he had to pull her away with a hiss.

  Flynn dragged her upward, rolling her on her back, staring down at her as he settled between her legs. Christ, she was beautiful. He couldn’t remember ever thinking anyone was as beautiful as she was. Long limbs, soft curves. All of it.

  He may have had only two serious relationships, but he’d been with enough women to know, no one made him feel this stir in his chest, the weird tightening in his gut, like she did.

  It didn’t just have to do with their lovemaking, either. He’d felt it the previous night. He’d fought it all night long tonight.

  Cat waited, her chest rising and falling, her lips parted, making him stiffer knowing they’d just been around his cock. He cupped her breast, keeping his gaze on hers, willing her to look at him as he thumbed her hard nipple, loving the way she stared right back at him as she took her pleasures.

  Her skin glistened in the glow of the lamp, a fine sheen of sweat covering her chest. He gave the dusky tight bud of her nipple a lick, savoring the pebbled flesh on his tongue while she grabbed a condom and slid it over his shaft.

  Flynn didn’t waste any time when he placed his cock at her entrance and thrust upward, savoring how tight she was, how slick and hot.

  That was when Cat closed her eyes, reached her arms up over her head and clung to the bars on the headboard.

  It was also when Flynn thought he’d explode inside her. He loved her abandon, the way she just let go and enjoyed the physical pleasure. He hadn’t experienced that with a woman, and it was like a drug.

  She wasn’t ashamed to lift her hips and silently ask for more, and as a result, his thrusts became more urgent and his muscles tightened.

  Cat came first, unabashedly wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him tight to her. The friction of their skin, the soft moan she made in his ear when she came, made him come, too—sharp and sweet, rattling him to his core.

  She settled beneath him afterward, her harsh panting becoming soft intakes of breath, while he cradled her in his arms.

  And it was then he realized he was in deep, without ever realizing he’d even jumped in the pool.

  Flynn ignored Cat’s words of warning, ignored the underlying note of fear in them. She was a commitment-phobe if her track record with jobs and boyfriends was any indication.

  And she was right, they were complete opposites.

  Still, even with all her red-flag warnings, he was wading further out into the deep end.

  “You know, McGrady,” she murmured, rolling out from under him and to her side, tucking his arm under hers. “Maybe you’re not such a prude.”

  He chuckled against the back of her neck, inhaling the smell of her skin. Yeah. Maybe not.

  Ten

  “What is this?” Cat asked, pushing her way through the black-and-gold streamers that were hanging over the break-room door.

  Marybell blew a colorful noisemaker at her and giggled. “It’s phone sex Friday. One Friday every month, Landon has Sanjeev make the operator who had the most calls for the month whatever she wants for her special dinner. Naturally, LaDawn smokes us almost every time—because, well, she’s LaDawn, the super ninja of phone sex. But don’t think he’s playing favorites because then we have tried-hard Tuesday, and the person with the least calls in a month gets her special dinner, too.”

  Cat shook her head with a grin. Each time she thought she’d wrapped her head around Call Girls, she was hit with yet another way Landon inspired his employees. He’d turned the drudgery of work into a celebration. The operators worked hard because they loved Landon.

  And the more she showed up, the more involved she became with these women, the harder she wanted to prove not just to Landon, but to herself, she wanted this job.

  The accounting class she’d taken at a local college came in handy when she’d gone over the financials just the other night. She’d marveled at how successful Call Girls really was, even with the salaried pay the operators were paid, the bonuses for exceeding the expected calls per month, the insurance plan and their 401(k)s.

  “So how’s your new beau, Cat?” LaDawn asked, winking an eye at her before dipping a piece of lobster into some freshly drawn butter.

  Cat fought to keep her face even. She’d seen Flynn every night for two weeks without a single jittery freak-out. Something wasn’t right. By now, in any other relationship, she’d have been looking for the get-out-as-fast-as-you-can door. “He’s not my beau.”

  “Really? Funny, when I saw you two at the sandwich shop the other day sharin’ a sub, you sure looked like he was your steady.” LaDawn fanned herself with her napkin. “And by the by, he’s hot.”

  And sweet, and considerate, and forcefully wicked in the bedroom. She blushed.

  Even funnier than the success of Call Girls, despite Landon’s lavish spending, was
how they considered one another family. If one of the operators had an ill family member, they all paid them a visit. When LaDawn had been sick with a nasty stomach virus last week, they took turns nursing her back to health—literally arranged shifts so she’d never want for anything.

  Because she’d been welcomed to the fold, they expected introductions to Flynn.

  Marybell grabbed her by the waist from behind and stuck her face in Cat’s. “So, when do we get to meet the intended?”

  Yeah. When are you going to do that, Cat? She’d avoided it so far—how did you tell someone like Flynn McGrady you worked at a phone sex company?

  He’d loosened up, but she was pretty sure he hadn’t loosened up that much.

  For someone who’s afraid of commitment, it sure sounds like you’re trying to stall telling Flynn about what you’re doing up here. Commitment-phobic people use that as the perfect tool to get out ASAP.

  Could it be you’re closing the excuse toolbox forever, Catherine Butler?

  Her stomach tightened into a knot. No. This wasn’t forever. Flynn had to go back to New York eventually, and she had to stay here. His mother wasn’t considered long-term care.

  Forever didn’t work long distance.

  “Kit-Cat?” Landon drawled in her ear.

  She jumped in response, smiling when she realized it was Landon. He looked a little tired today. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Cat gave him a tight hug, noting a slight tremor in his arms. “Have you come to check up on me and my bossin’ skills?”

  “I came to see what all the cacklin’ was about a boyfriend. Have you left me for greener pastures?”

  “Leave all this,” she said, waving an arm at the elaborate meal that LaDawn and the other girls were enjoying. “Not for all the shoes in Payless.”

  “So is it true? Do you have a new beau and you’re holdin’ out on us?”

  Her eyes found the first object she could focus on so as not to look Landon directly in the eye. He had a way of seeing past her crap and into her darkest thoughts, thoughts that sometimes made her uncomfortable in her own skin. “I’m seeing someone, yes.”

  “And it’s love,” he playfully accused. “I can see it. Yippee for love, Cat. In the end, that’s really all there is.”

  “Have you ever been in love, Landon?”

  Now his eyes clouded. “I have, head over heels, in fact, but he couldn’t love me out in the open. He wanted to tuck me away and keep me his dirty secret. I had too much love for that.”

  Suddenly, everything Landon did, the way he showed mere strangers so much kindness, the way he loved openly with words and actions, the way he expressed his feelings without pause, made sense. Because he’d once been forced to keep it all inside.

  She wrapped her arm in his and leaned her head on his shoulder as they watched everyone eat and laugh. “You’re the best person I know, Landon. If he couldn’t love you, he didn’t deserve you.”

  “So what about you? Is it love?”

  It was something. It was anticipatory jitters, secret smiles, the race of her heart when she got a text from Flynn. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in love.”

  “You know what the trouble is with you, Cat?”

  Cat leaned into Landon, smiling up at him. “What’s the trouble with me, boss?”

  “You never stuck around long enough to find out if it could be love. You gotta stick around to see what you can see. Sometimes, you have to ride the wave, Kit-Cat, and see what beach it lands on. Could be warm and sunny there.”

  “Or a tsunami could be in the forecast.”

  “But what if there’s a tropical breeze and the sun’s shinin’?”

  “That’s my definitive sign there’s going to be a tsunami,” she joked, until she realized she really did expect the worst.

  “Why, Cat Butler, I’da never pegged you as such a pessimist. How’d that happen?”

  For all her impulsive blathering, acts of defiance in the name of right and wrong, she stunk at being left—so she left first. Left a job before she could screw up and be asked to leave. Left one boyfriend after the other so she wouldn’t fall in love and end up hurt.

  This way she’d never have to feel that gnawing, empty ache she’d felt when her father left both she and her mother. She’d loved him so much. She’d been his little girl, his Princess Cat.

  Until she wasn’t anymore.

  Those long nights praying to the heavens he’d come back, finally realizing after two solid years of prayer he was never coming back, had sealed the deal for her. Her mother had been a good wife—Tessa never would have considered walking out the door and never coming back, and she’d paid the price as a single parent.

  She’d struggled to make ends meet. She’d robbed Peter to pay Paul on more than one occasion to ensure Cat had everything she needed—no matter what.

  The weight of that responsibility had stolen the joy from her mother’s young life and bled into her middle years. Some of the best years of Tessa’s life were spent working for Kahn the Wrath-maker, low pay, long hours, but she did it. She did it so Cat could go to the college she’d dropped out of.

  When Tessa had finally retired from her job as a secretary, her retirement fund and Medicaid barely helped her hang on. Yet, somehow, she’d still been the best mother ever.

  “I guess I am a little pessimistic.”

  “Or a lot.”

  She chuckled against his arm. “Okay, a lot.”

  “Why’s that, do ya think?”

  “Is there a lesson here, Landon?”

  Landon shrugged. “Is there?”

  Her breath shuddered in and out. “I’m afraid.”

  “Of?”

  “Of committing. Committing to anything. I’m beginning to think it’s why I never did anything worthwhile with my life. Why I’m afraid to throw myself into something all the way.”

  Landon pulled away from her, cupping her chin. “Do me a favor, would ya?”

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t run away this time, pretty lady. Instead, stick around and see what you can see.” He gave her a squeeze and dropped a kiss on the top of her head before sauntering off to have some lobster and champagne with the girls.

  * * *

  Flynn dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek and smiled. She wasn’t parked near a window, staring off into space today. Today, she was struggling with the knitting needles and yarn Cat had brought her.

  But she was damn well trying.

  “How are you today, Mom? You look pretty. Did the nurses do your hair?”

  She nodded her acknowledgment, dropping the knitting needles into her lap with a disgusted grunt.

  Flynn picked them up, repositioning them between her fingers and looking at the book on the table for direction. “Here, like this,” he said, ignoring her surprised look.

  He’d been watching YouTube videos on how to knit since his mother’s doctor told him it was good hand-eye coordination for her, and he’d successfully knitted a very ugly, very skinny potholder.

  “See?” he said when he placed the needles back in her hand. “So, since you won’t talk to anyone but Cat, because you clearly like her better than me, how do you feel about the fact that I’m dating her?”

  Della shifted in her wheelchair.

  “Is that a yea or a nay?” he prodded, hoping she’d at least try to speak.

  “Yeee-ah,” she blurted out, the effort it took very clear.

  He forced himself to be calm and not overreact to the first words she’d spoken directly to him in months. “You like her a lot, don’t you?”

  Della gave him a crooked bob of her head. “Good.” She spat the word.

  Flynn smiled, squeezing her hand. Cat was good, and the more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her.

  “Listen, Mom. I’ve wanted to talk to you about something for a while now. I don’t know what was going on before your stroke. Probably because I worked all the tim
e and I didn’t make the time to call you to find out. I know you miss Dad and Adeline, and I live pretty far away, but I’m always here. And I’m going to make a better effort to be around more often. Okay?”

  She gave his hand a firm squeeze, reaching out with the other one to run her finger down his nose just like she had when he was a kid.

  Flynn brought her hand to his cheek and kissed it. “Now, that settled, have I mentioned I’ve been reading a lot lately?”

  Della’s dark eyes grew curious.

  He pulled the bag he had from under his chair at the table and grabbed a book from it. “Yep. So, here’s the deal. You read it and I’ll read it, and we’ll discuss it. Like a book club, maybe?” He held up his copy and wiggled his eyebrows. “Looook. It has vampires. Cat says you like vampires. I hope they’re better than sex demons. Yes. I just admitted I read a book about sex demons in front of my mother.”

  Della gurgled her approval, fingering the book.

  Way to loosen up, McGrady.

  Eleven

  “You’re knitting? You really are the best son ever,” Cat cooed at Flynn from across his kitchen table.

  Flynn took a bite of his lo mein and wiggled his eyebrows. “I suck at it.”

  Cat held up the green yarn in the shape of...something. “I think this is a great scarf.”

  “It’s a pot holder.”

  She nodded vehemently in agreement while she chewed on the corner of a fortune cookie. “I can totally see that now. For all those long, skinny dishes. Why don’t they make more pot holders long and skinny, instead of boring and square?”

  Barking a laugh, Flynn shoved the containers of Chinese food out of the way. “I like supportive. It’s hot on you.” Taking her by the hand, he yanked her upward, pressing her soft curves against him and kissing her thoroughly.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked when she pulled away in that low husky voice that made his cock strain against his jeans.

  Slipping his hands under her silky top, he nipped at her jaw. “Absolutely. Let’s make a knit hat together.”

  Cat moaned into his mouth when he captured her lips—the same way she had for the past four weeks and counting. They’d fallen into a ritual of meeting for dinner at his place or somewhere out, grabbing a movie, then making love the better part of the night.