by Jordan Bell
And I really hated it. Five days and nights back to my normal routine of being alone in that creaky old farmhouse. I felt restless and gloomy. I was beginning to realize the truth that there’s no such thing as just sex and no strings attached. Kissing someone, really kissing them, was an intimate and euphoric experience and that left something behind every time it happened. A residue on your spirit. When every night was spent in their arms, it was an inevitability that losing it would hurt and you’d have to learn all over again how to be alone.
When he walked into the bar the night of the bachelorette party, tall and cut beneath a t-shirt made to hug tight to his body and jeans tight enough to make my mouth water, I felt starved for his attention. For his touch. I dug my fingernails into my jeans and willed him to come to me.
His dark hair looked a little wet from his shower, and I knew up close he’d smell clean like evergreens and I badly wanted to lose myself in his mouth, beneath his body, in the depths of his blueblue eyes.
I knew when Bailey’s maid-of-honor Sabrina sashayed up to him, all hips and bare shoulders and my jealous butterflies went carnivorous in the pit of my stomach, I was in deep, deep trouble.
It wasn’t right. I had no right wanting him so badly. When she settled her slender fingers along the curve of his body and leaned into him, I knew I was done for. I turned on my stool to give them my back and took a shot of tequila that burned the jealousy right through me.
No, it wasn’t right. We’d been foolish to commit so much time together in seven weeks. He needed to leave Castle Creek so I could get on with my life. He’d done his part in putting bits of me back together, that was obvious. There was no way I’d have been able to come to my sister’s bachelorette party six weeks ago. And tonight, despite sitting alone away from the squealing, half-drunk ladies pawing at the local boys hovering like moths around their fire, being here didn’t bother me hardly at all.
A thrill of pleasure passed through me when I felt a hand slide across my shoulder and down my spine. I grinned and turned to greet him with a smart ass comment on the tip of my tongue, but my grin faltered when Dan leaned in to kiss my cheek while simultaneously stealing the barstool next to me.
“You look gorgeous tonight, Cass. Let me buy you a drink.”
“I…” My eyes shot across the room where Jonathan was draping himself across my sister and Jason stood with Sabrina tucked under his shoulder. A knot of emotions lodged itself into my throat. I could feel Dan graze my black tank top to my cleavage where my breasts felt huge suddenly, and prominent. I’d chosen the tank top and black lacey bra because they made my breasts look kind of awesome. I had no idea when I’d started thinking of my breasts as being awesome, but Jason had been a big fan all this time, so maybe he’d rubbed off on me.
But now I wished for a jacket, something to encase them in. I took no pleasure from Dan’s open stare. He was a good looking guy, but I’d been spoiled by Jason’s intense attention. Too bad for us both, since wanting him might have saved me a lot of trouble later. Instead I stole glances over his shoulder to where Jason stood. Not once did my blue-eyed lover cast a look my way.
And I felt it each time he didn’t notice me. It was like I’d become a tortured teenager overnight. No amount of alcohol could fix that humiliation.
The bartender served up whatever Dan had ordered for me. I wasn’t even listening, but the dark drink tasted rummy and sweet.
“If you don’t mind me saying, Cassidy, he picked the wrong sister.”
“Oh, Dan,” I laughed. “I am too sober to be having this conversation.”
“Cassidy!” Bailey gave a little cry and threw herself bodily into my arms, managing to spill her fruity drink only a little bit on my bare arm in the process. Her cheeks were as rosy as if she’d just come in from the cold, the tip of her nose especially red. She batted her eyes and snuggled half-drunk into my shoulder. “Cassidy, Cassidy, my big sister. You’ve been my big sister for almost my entire life.”
“Almost.” I shrugged her gently forward to prevent further margarita saturation. Dan swooped in with a cocktail napkin to dab up the pink drips while I settled her right back on her feet.
“I didn’t think you were going to come. Honest.”
“To be fair, mom was pretty pushy about it. She was all, I carried you for nine months, the least you can do is show up at a bar for your sister.”
“Ouch.” Bailey wrinkled her nose. Even drunk she was the cuter of the two of us. Tonight she wore a purple strapless cocktail dress that made her boney shoulders particularly glamorous looking. “Sorry, Cass.”
I shrugged and tipped my glass to her. “It’s fine. I think you and I are the only ones in this town who know how awkward this is and you’re too drunk to care right now. So, cheers.”
“Cheers!”
“Bailey! Round of shots?” Jonathan held up two overfull shot glasses and beckoned her with the nod of his head. She gave a little squeak and went running to meet him. Several of her bridesmaids raised shots in her honor. She threw it back and Jonathan held a lime wedge out for her to suck. The whole thing was comical and bawdy.
Finally, I met Jason’s eyes over the lime wedge and his draws drew a little closer together.
“Let’s dance, Cassidy.” Dan leaned in while I wasn’t paying attention. I wouldn’t have even noticed him until his hands slid up the outside of my thighs. “You and me?”
“What?” I shot him a look of surprise. It took only a second to wiggle my way out of his hold and out of my chair. “I’m really, really too sober for that.”
“Cassidy.” This time when the hand closed around my wrist, I recognized the touch immediately. I backed up into him without turning and he shifted to shield me from Dan’s searching gaze. “Can I steal you?”
“Yes.” There was no hiding my eagerness from Jason or from Dan. “Sorry, I have to go. Wedding stuff. Bye!” I waved half-heartedly as Jason threaded his fingers between mine and practically dragged me across the bar towards the back hallway where the bathrooms were, past the jukebox that played something country and twangy loud enough to drown out my panting excitement. Like a teenager. I was kind of ridiculous but completely unapologetic about it.
We turned the corner and he had me up against the wall before I could catch my breath. He pinned me with his body, his erection buried against the seam of my jeans. He slid one hand down my back, over my ass, until he cupped my thigh. He slid his fingers along the curve of my thigh until he hooked my knee and held it up to his waist. Unbalanced, breathy, he captured my mouth without resistance.
Kissing him was like taking a breath after too many minutes suffocating. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste. I sunk my fingers into his damp hair and pulled him down into me, into the kiss that felt hungry, a little wild. My lips bruised against his teeth. He ground his erection between my legs and I thought if I didn’t feel him inside of me I was going to scream.
“I missed you,” he hissed against my skin when he broke away to kiss my throat. His tongue scratched my heartbeat, his lips sucked at the hollow. I clawed and pulled him into me.
“I thought you were done with me.” I gasped when he nipped the soft flesh under my jawline.
“No,” he growled. “No.”
He released my knee and let his hands wander up my hips, dragging my tank top up until they found skin. His big hands wrapped around my waist, felt all my bumps and softness and I didn’t mind and he certainly didn’t either. He grasped hard at my body, took pleasure in gripping me.
When he found my lacy bra, he moaned, grabbed my arm, and spun me easily to face the wall. I dug my fingers into the plaster as he pulled at my hips so that he had my backside to grind against.
I groaned and he moved his hand up my body to gently cover my mouth before stroking the pad of his thumb across my open lips.
“I want to take you home. Right now.” Jason buried his face against my hair. “When I saw him put his hands on you, I…” Jason swore, his breath hot against my ea
r.
Dampness flooded the folds between my legs, throbbing for him, aching to be filled. I’d have let him take me right there if he’d wanted.
“What? Jealous?” I teased breathlessly, not really believing it, but he responded with force. He pressed his body into me to hold me against the wall and slid his hand from my mouth to my throat. He settled it there possessively, gripping it and my stomach to anchor me while he ground his hips slow and hard into my backside.
“Yes,” he said against my ear. “Yes, I’m jealous, Cassidy. I don’t want to share.”
I groaned. His words made everything inside of me burn white hot. “Let’s go, Jason, let’s go right now.”
He spun me back around and took my hand. “Thought you’d never ask.”
We emerged from the dark hallway and all eyes in the bar turned to stare at us.
I stopped, pinned there by my sister’s accusing, narrow blue eyes. “Oh, shit.”
“Stay calm.” He squeezed my hand and we walked slowly to the middle of the room, navigating the tables and chairs while everyone watched. Some of the bridesmaids whispered.
“I bet she’s just trying to make Jonathan jealous,” one of them muttered to my sister’s ear. My sister scoffed.
“Throwing herself at anyone bored enough to take her up on her offer? No, I think she’s desperate for attention. Everyone’s forgotten she existed and that kills her.” Bailey shrugged neatly, clearly having sobered up since last I saw her. Her sweetness and light were gone, replaced by the mean girl I never liked.
“Ignore them,” Jason whispered as we neared the lion’s den.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to be an option.”
We had to pass them in order to leave, but Bailey, Jonathan, Sabrina, and Dan made it difficult to get by without some sort of confrontation.
Bailey engaged first by stepping right in my path. “So much for being the broken hearted sister when you’ve clearly gone out and gotten yourself a replacement King. I guess now we can stop the theatrics and the oh poor Cassidy act.”
“What I do and with whom is none of your business, Bailey. You should be pleased I’m moving on.”
“Maybe I would be if it weren’t such a blatant attempt to push yourself back in Jonathan’s life and become the center of attention once again.”
“That’s enough. We’re leaving and you can go back to your party.” Jason tugged me around my sister, but Bailey moved again and this time Jonathan joined her. We both halted.
“You should know better than to fall for her tricks,” Bailey snarled up at Jason who looked taken aback by her attack.
“At least now I know where you’ve been spending all your time.” Jonathan stared at me, stared hard like he was trying to see what was going on inside my head. It felt alien that we’d ever been close. “She’s using you for your money or maybe she is trying to make me jealous. Either way, why would you bother?”
Jason kept his face composed, hard, but not quick to get upset. This was his brother after all and they didn’t have the tense relationship Bailey and I had. I felt his fingers tighten on mine, but otherwise his expression didn’t change.
“It’s none of your business. Now get out of my way, Jonathan.”
“We’re leaving,” I told Bailey.
We made it only one step when Bailey grabbed my arm and yanked me out of Jason’s grasp. I spun on her, ready for knock down, drag out fisticuffs just like when we were kids. I was ready to hair pull and swear if it came down to it.
“Why are you trying to ruin my wedding? Why do they keep choosing you?” she cried, her fists balled up in preparation of a truly epic, drunken tantrum. “You’re not even the pretty one!”
I scoffed. “I didn’t realize I was doing anything to your wedding. But I guess you’d know best about ruining weddings, after all.”
Bridesmaids gasped and flung themselves to grab the tiny boned sister as she threw herself at me. “You’re a selfish, greedy plus-sized nightmare!”
I smacked her hand away hard when she tried to hit me, stumbling and way off mark, but the sound of skin-on-skin was thunderous and very suddenly everyone was in the middle of it. Someone wrapped their arms around me from behind and drug me back as Bailey’s wild pin-wheeling fists were captured and subdued by Jonathan. Everyone screamed, obscenities flew, at least three beer bottles in the floor splashing shoes and jeans making the floor slick. I struggled out of the hands that held me back and Bailey broke away from Jonathan. The bartenders who, up until that point, were willing to let us scream it out, came out from behind the bar and I don’t know who said what first, but everything went upside down when Jonathan came at me and for the first time since I threw my engagement ring at him, he spoke directly to me.
“You were my mistake, Cassidy. Not Bailey. Everyone keeps telling me I should be ashamed of myself. That I should be sorry. How can I be sorry when I saved myself from the worst mistake I’d ever made to be with someone I actually loved.”
Right in the heart. The bullet when in, bounced around tearing everything up. I felt it in every nerve, ever thought in my brain, right into the hollow of my heart I’d begun to believe was healing. Bailey had the decency to choke on his words and everyone went into slow motion.
That is, until Jason’s fist connected with Jonathan’s jaw. His head snapped back and he stumbled, but Jason stood like a wall, breathing hard, fists balled into weapons. Jonathan recovered with a roar and came at his brother shoulder first. They connected and when staggering back. Fists connected, bodies fueled by alcohol and anger, protectiveness and jealousy and everyone went a little mad. Bailey and I stared at each other, appalled at what we’d done, and then we were on our men.
I wrapped my arms around Jason’s shoulders from behind and pulled him into me. Bailey had an easier time with Jonathan because he was already well intoxicated and the beer on the floor made it hard for him to stand. I didn’t realize there were tears in my eyes and that the pain in my chest was growing more out of control by the moment. The voices, the screaming, the doubt and untamed rage let loose what had been quieted for so many weeks. They blinded me, blocked out the words of the people around us trying to help us up. Jason saw them, felt them touch his cheek and his arms were around me before I could stand. He scooped me up like I weighed nothing and put me on my feet. His hands wiped at my tears, at my shredded attempt at make-up. He whispered to me things I couldn’t hear over the noises in my head.
Jonathan’s friends helped him into a chair and a cold unopened bottle of beer was pressed against his cheek. Dan intervened with the bartenders and Jason and I made our way for the door. His arm slung over my shoulder like he needed my help out, but I think it was for my benefit, to give my mind something to concentrate on.
We made it down the steps to the parking lot when the door burst open and Bailey came running out. “Cassidy! Cass wait, please wait.”
We stopped and turned to stare up at her. Her hair was messed up and I was surprised to see emotion in her eyes that was not bitterness or bitchiness. I couldn’t read her, but I think there was regret there.
“We’re done, Bailey. We’re done.”
And I was. I really was.
12
____________
Jason and I went back to the farmhouse and went straight to my bed. There was nothing soft in the way we tore at each other, nothing soft in the way he took me, rough and possessive. We fucked to get rid of what had just happened, to lay claim to each other, to undo all the terrible things that were said. He mauled me, scraped my thighs with his rough facial hair badly in need of a shave. He kissed me everywhere, nipped me, sucked at me and I writhed for him. Nothing was off limits, nothing he did was too hard or too fast. I came twice like a tempest, screaming and scratching at the bedposts. He came on me for the first time, ripping the condom off to ejaculate on my thighs, intimate and indecent at the same time.
Slick now, sticky, soaked by his lust, we slowed down. Until dawn we kissed and stroke
d each other to almost coming before slowing way down again. He slid inside of me where I was raw and bruised from his earlier wild need, and I gasped and held onto him for dear life. He told me I was beautiful. He told me I was the best decision he’d ever made. He told me he didn’t want to go home.
And I believed him. For every moment it stayed dark outside I believed that somehow this was going to last longer than one night. That he wouldn’t leave after the week was out and my sister was no longer Bailey Blue and the farmhouse was no longer mine, that he’d take me away to his loud, crowded, gigantic city and I wouldn’t have to see any of these people again. That night I didn’t replay Jonathan’s horrible words in my head. I was no one’s fat nightmare. Jason wanted me. He said so, whispered against my skin, against my mouth, when he kissed my belly button and when buried his face in the crook of my neck. I believed everything was going to be fine.
But only until morning.
###
When I woke up, Jason was already out of bed putting his boxers and jeans on. I blinked sleepily and rubbed the crusties from the corner of my eyes. He watched me, a strange little smile on his face I couldn’t decipher.
“Morning,” I murmured. “Heading home?”
“No, I’m going to make us breakfast. We need it.”
I grinned like he was joking. “We don’t do breakfast.”
“It’s foreplay. Let’s go.” He tugged my blanket from where I was trying to pull it over my head and actually picked me up out of bed. I kicked and squealed, but he set me down lightly on my feet.
“Alright, alright. I get it. We’re doing breakfast.” I grabbed my robe off the back of the bedroom door and followed him into the hallway and down the stairs. “Besides, if we have any more foreplay, I’m not going to walk for a week.”
“Sounds good to me. Mmm, a week in bed? Fantastic.” He was very punchy this morning, and the happier he seemed, the more anxious I felt. I followed him into the kitchen, but the knot in my stomach held me back. It had Jonathan’s voice and whispered all these terrible things in my head. Jason didn’t notice and kept talking animatedly even when I wasn’t beside him. “There’s this Italian bakery on the street level of my building. Thanks to Mario and Louisa, I haven’t made my own breakfast in two years and I’ve had to start running every morning. What do you think?”