Cassandra smiled at the pained expression on his face. She’d put that look there. The woman inside thrilled that she could do it. “Was I doing something wrong?” she teased.
“Oh, no baby, you were doing everything just right,” he growled as he slid between her legs.
His lips found her breasts again, and he left a damp path behind as he inched down her stomach. He traced a circle around her belly button. She trembled, her breathing erratic and unbalanced. He nudged her legs apart with his powerful shoulders. Hands bracketed her hips, but she couldn’t stop herself from writhing when he dipped his head. His seeking mouth found her center. She gasped at the feel of his tongue on her, in her.
“Reilly,” she gasped. “Please, tell me you’ve got something.”
“Something?” Reilly whispered against her skin as he made his way back up to her breasts. He went back and forth as if he was trying to decide which one to favor, but instead concentrated on the dark mole just below her heart.
“Yes, something, aren’t you prepared?”
“There you go again.” Reilly lifted his head. His eyes locked with hers. His tongue continued lazy circles around the mole, each circle growing wider and wider until it scraped across her nipple sending a bolt of need racing through her. “Comparing me to the Boy Scouts, and that’s question number eighteen.”
“I think it was more than that, but who cares?” Cassandra clenched her legs tightly around him. “Last question. Do I need to reach for my purse?”
Reilly lifted himself and moved until they lay face to face. Bracing himself on his elbows, they fit perfectly together. He was inches away from being inside her. Her body screamed to finish what they’d started, what they both needed and wanted.
“You have what we need in your purse?” he asked instead.
“Yes.”
Cassandra answered without hesitancy. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Here was a woman who’d hadn’t had sex for the last six years and now she was telling him she had condoms in her purse.
“Is it six years old?” He grinned. “They don’t last forever, you know.”
“I bought them this afternoon.” She returned his smile. “When we stopped for gas.”
He stilled in her arms. “Them? Why?” He shook his head. “Forget I asked—”
“Because I want this.” She cut off his words, running her hands down his chest and around to his lower back. He flinched when her fingers encountered the scars, but she didn’t. She ran her hands over them, pausing to knead his skin before continuing until she reached his backside. “I want you.”
She pulled and the tip of him pressed against her, demanding entrance. She wanted him there, deep inside her. Now.
He reached for his jeans near the fireplace. Still a few inches from his reach, he had to move away from her. Grabbing the pant leg, he yanked and seconds later, pulled out a silver foil packet from his wallet.
“Did you buy that today too?” she asked.
“No. I bought it the day after we met.”
A private kick of pleasure flowed through her. It quickly changed to a warm glow when she saw Reilly trying to hide the slight shaking of his fingers as he fumbled with the small packet. She loved that he was as anxious as she. She laid a hand on his back and he stilled. “Need some help?”
Reilly looked over his shoulder. He handed the packet to her with a small smile. Her eyes never left his as she put the corner of it between her teeth. Giving a quick tug, she tore it easily before handing it back. “Anything else I can do?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got this part covered…so to speak.”
She couldn’t stop the soft laughter that spilled from her lips as he quickly sheathed himself before turning back to her. The laughter stopped when he again braced himself over her, his lips covering hers in a hard kiss. Her fingers floated along the undersides of his arms, and he pressed in closer. She moved her hips to meet his.
He cupped the back of her neck, ending their kiss and compelling her to look up at him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“Yes I will.”
She cradled his face with her hands, and reached for his lips with her own. “Its okay, Reilly, please…”
Deepening the kiss, he used his tongue to engage hers in a passionate duel as he moved a hand down to the most intimate part of her. His touch gently caressed her, then slowly he edged forward and entered her. She could tell he was forcing himself to go slow, but his fullness filled her. Her kiss ended in a soft moan that stopped him.
“Cassandra—”
She cut off his words by laying a hand across his mouth. Her body relaxed around him and she lifted her hips in a natural invitation. “Don’t you dare stop.”
Reilly struggled to control the power surging through him. She was so tight, fitted so closely around him. She took him deep inside her until it felt as if they were one body, one person. He wanted this to be special. He wanted her to experience the same feelings that flowed through him even if he couldn’t put a name on them.
Couldn’t or wouldn’t?
He shoved that question back inside his internal box and slammed the lid shut. She rose up to meet him, her breath rushing past his ear as he placed an open-mouth kiss on her neck. Drawing in the tender skin, he groaned when her hands moved down to his waist and over his backside, pulling him closer.
He wanted to wait, wanted to hold back. His hips moved in perfect rhythm with hers. Faster. Harder. Deeper. A sheen of sweat broke over his skin. He pulled her to his chest. His arms cradled her shoulders, his lips at her ear. “Cassandra,” he rasped. “I…”
“Love me, Reilly, just love me.”
Her hands clawed at his back, and the powerful jolt of her release mixed with her cries and sent him over the edge. He held on and joined her in a spiral of sweet oblivion.
Hot water from the inn’s shower rained down on Cassandra’s body, her muscles aching in protest this morning. Thanks to spending the night on the floor, she knew she’d be sore all day. Not that she was complaining. The soreness came from making love to Reilly on those hardwood floors.
Lathering her hands with soap, Cassandra trailed them over her arms before moving on to her shoulders. As she passed over her breasts to her stomach, the memory of Reilly’s hands taking the same path filled her mind. Twice last night and again this morning in the early pre-dawn hours.
She didn’t even remember falling asleep after the second time they’d made love. Waking before the sun broke the horizon to find Reilly curled next to her, spoon fashion, with the heaviness of his arm on her hip, had filled her with a joy she’d never experienced before.
He awoke and asked about her ankle, the marks on her chest and the bump at her hairline. She assured him that while a tiny bit sore, she was fine. Better than fine. He bestowed a gentle kiss on each area, working from her head to her toes and back again. His kisses and his touch grew eager, passionate and fervent as he moved in behind her. He stroked her skin and burrowed his face in her hair. He whispered heated words of seductive fantasies as he moved her leg until it rested on his, then he filled her.
She was falling in love.
Falling, sliding and drowning in what had to be love. She had no other words to describe what was happening to her heart, mind, soul and body.
Especially her heart.
It was finally free from the frozen prison she’d kept it barricaded in most of her life. She wanted to blame her father’s gambling addiction and its shattering effect for the blockade’s existence, but that wasn’t completely true. She’d allowed it to build slowly, layer by layer, over the years.
As a child, being forced to associate with only certain friends deemed suitable by her father, the frightening experience with Edwin Bancroft and the struggle to deal, first with boys, and later in life, with men who were only interested in her family’s wealth, not in her as a person.
The night she’d learned of her father’s deception
to her mother and betrayal of their marriage vows had solidified the barrier. It had continued to grow over the last six years, even more so over the six months since his death. Choosing to live her life by lies and deception to save her mother any more heartbreak had cut off any remaining emotion in her.
Until she’d met Reilly Murdock.
From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, her heart had beaten with a different rhythm. It measured time in pulses, ripples and swells that culminated in the powerful discovery of what it means to love and be loved.
But moments later, after their need for each other was sated, Reilly pulled away from her. Not just physically, but emotionally.
He quickly dressed and went outside to check on the car. She didn’t know how he’d done it, but he’d managed to get it out of the ditch by the time she’d gotten herself dressed, cleaned the room and banked the fire. She’d looked for their houseguest, but the cat had disappeared. They drove back to the inn and except for Reilly holding her hand tightly in his, he was silent.
Two messages had been waiting for him at the front desk and he hadn’t shared them. He’d walked her to her door, given her a quick kiss, and disappeared into his own room.
Shaking off the memory of him walking away, Cassandra rinsed off the last of the soap bubbles and wrapped herself in a towel. She stepped from the shower and dried off. Glancing at herself in the mist-covered mirror, she did a double take. A quick wipe with the towel revealed the redness of her skin. That she could blame on the hot water, but not the look in her eyes. A combination of both happiness and sadness. What was its cause?
Reilly.
At least the happy part. She’d never experienced the emotions that filled her last night, and again this morning, as she and Reilly made love. With her limited experience, she wondered if she was making too much of what had happened between them. Was this something Reilly did often? Was the sadness she read in her eyes because of him too?
“Oh, quit lying, girl,” Cassandra lectured herself as she tucked the ends of the towel at her breasts before she grabbed another. She squeezed the wetness from her hair and walked out of the bathroom. “The sadness you can blame on yourself.”
She dropped the towel on the end of the still-unused bed. Bending at the waist, she flung her head forward. Her hair draped to the carpet as she started finger-combing through the mass of curls. She knew the familiar look of misery on her face had everything to do with lying about her family and nothing to do with Reilly.
Except for the fact she was lying to him, too.
When they’d first met, he’d only seen her as a spoiled, rich girl playing at working for a living. Did he still feel the same? After last night? And if he knew the truth about the lie she’d been living, would it change anything?
Of course it would. Reilly was man who valued honesty and truth. And the truth was she had no idea what his feelings were toward her. Was last night just a fling? Did he get involved with the women—she knew there had to have been others in the past—he was hired to protect?
Or maybe Reilly was dealing with the same riot of emotion she was grappling with this morning?
“Get a grip, girl. You don’t have any idea how he—ouch!” Cassandra cried out as her fingers tangled in her hair. “One of these days I’m going to chop this rat’s nest up to my chin!”
“Don’t you dare.”
Cassandra shrieked and jerked back to a standing position. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she found Reilly casually leaning against the door to her room. The thick terry cloth towel started to give way and she grabbed for it. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t move. “Watching you.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. How long had he been there? Had he heard what she said? “How did you get in?”
Reilly only shrugged and Cassandra remembered the first night they’d met. He’d gotten past her locked apartment door with professional ease. “Oh, your toys again.”
“No, your door was unlocked. I knocked, you didn’t answer. So I let myself in. Not a smart move, leaving the door unlocked. Are you ready to go?”
Cassandra took in Reilly’s still-damp hair. It must’ve been a quick shower. “Do you mind if I get dressed first?”
The heat of his gaze licked at her skin as his eyes traveled over her exposed arms and legs. “I don’t mind your current attire, but the good citizens of Nantucket might not like it.”
Was he flirting with her? Pushing down the bud of joy springing to life inside her, Cassandra grabbed the clothes she’d laid out on the bed and started for the bathroom. At the same moment, Reilly pushed himself away from the door. Unable to get past without brushing up against him, she breathed in freshness and a scent of clean male skin clinging to his tee shirt and now to her. “I’ll be right out.”
Reilly shot out his arm. Bracing his hand on the opposite wall, he stopped her in the tight space. “Cass, I know you haven’t dealt with ‘morning after’ awkwardness for the last half-dozen years, but it doesn’t have to be this hard.”
“Can I assume you’ve had plenty of—” Cassandra focused on his leather-clad arm as she forced out the words, “—experience with ‘morning afters’?”
“I don’t usually stick around that long.”
His answer struck hard. She realized while Reilly knew he was the first man she’d slept with in a long time, she had no idea when he’d last been with someone. Did she want to know?
Yes.
“When was the last—”
“This morning.”
Cassandra’s gaze flew to his. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
“I don’t remember the time before you.” Reilly moved to cup her face with his hands, tunneling his fingers into her still wet curls. “I was too drunk. A blur that started and ended with a bottle of Tequila. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No…I—”
“You.” His voice was a rough whisper as he moved closer, pressing her up against the wall with the length of his body. “All I can remember, all I want to remember is you.”
His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue sweeping inside her still-open mouth in a demanding and fervent kiss. He tasted minty and warm and her tongue reached for his. They coaxed each other in a now familiar game of chase.
His hands released her, but only for a moment before they clamped onto her hips. He lifted her to her tiptoes, cradling her in the junction of his thighs. His fingers gathered the damp towel around her hips until her backside met the smoothness of the wallpaper. The contrast between the cool texture of the wall and the rough feel of his jeans as he pressed his arousal against the most intimate part of her only heightened her excitement.
When she hooked her leg around the back of his knee and rocked against his hardness, his moan changed into a feral growl. She reached for him, clutching at his tee shirt with her fingers. Pressing closer despite the unwieldy clothes between them, she wanted to fling them away along with the towel covering her from her breasts to her belly button.
In a sudden motion, he backed away and Cassandra found herself leaning against the wall for support. She could still feel his mouth on hers, his hands on her body. The deep breaths she pulled through her lungs only succeeded in dragging in the passion-filled scent of the man in front of her.
Correction. The man who’d stepped away from her.
He knew what she wanted. He wanted it too. She could feel the moisture between her legs and there was no mistaking the hard bulge still pressing against the front of his jeans. He returned her stare, his chest heaving with his own deep breaths, his hands fisted at his sides.
Her eyes flickered over to the bed. When she looked back, he was staring at a spot on the wall over her head. Silence filled the room. Cassandra knew he was waiting for her to be the one to say something first.
“I-I should get dressed.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was the best she could offer at the moment.
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”
Good.
She wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d dragged her over to the large four-poster bed and pulled her down into still-smooth, untouched sheets. But he hadn’t. He’d ignited a fire with his words, his kisses, but he was also the one who’d ended it before they went too far.
Again.
Determined not to dwell on that subject, Cassandra forced her mind back to the real reason she was here, the redecoration of the Carrington beach house. She hurried to dress.
“So what are the plans for today?”
Reilly’s voice came through the door. She froze in the middle of brushing out her curls. “I’m going back,” she answered.
“Back where?”
Cassandra yanked the bathroom door open. Reilly filled the doorway. She searched his eyes. Looking for something, anything that would give her a clue about what he was feeling. But there was nothing there.
“Back to the beach house,” she said, moving past him.
Chapter Fourteen
“This was a happy place,” Cassandra announced, standing behind him in the center of the sun-filled, oversized living room.
Reilly glanced at his watch. Three hours.
Other than asking for a decaf light with cream and two sugars at the local coffee shop, it was the first thing she’d said since they’d left the inn. After the way he’d run hot and cold on her, he wasn’t surprised she’d been ignoring him. He’d told himself to keep his hands off her, to remember why he’d brought her to this place and forget about what happened between them last night. And again, this morning.
Yeah, he’d listened real well.
He’d known she’d picked up on his retreat from her. Hell, she was a smart lady. But it was for her own good, dammit. A night of pleasure couldn’t overcome the vast divide that stood between them.
Employer and employee.
Reilly's Promise Page 20