Pretend You Love Me

by Stacia Wolf

  Jake shook his head. “No, have other plans today. Besides, I'm not quite welcome at the Delistraty stronghold. Haven't ever been quite forgiven for knocking up their princess."

  "Dad!” Cassie smacked her father's shoulder. Suzy barked, and she scooped her up, silencing her.

  Jake chuckled. “Well, I call it as I see it. I'd better get going and let the two of you hit the road."

  Jake walked away. Cassie shut the door and gave Mike her full attention.

  He'd dressed for the rare sunny day they were having, in a black tank top and crisp khaki shorts. It revealed too much of his lightly bronzed skin to keep her blood below boiling point. And those legs! Lean and muscular, with a fine dusting of dark hair, those legs alone could melt her bones. Without any time to prepare, his presence hit her hard. But she pulled herself together.

  Then she looked into those sexy brown eyes and found the purest look of lust she'd ever experienced. And something else, something deeper she couldn't quite name. He hid it swiftly, but she still felt its impact. Her heart leapt in her chest and melted into a puddle that pooled between her legs and left her wanting to cling to the door for support.

  * * * *

  Over the last few days, Mike had thoroughly convinced himself that the impact Cassie had on him could be nothing more than an aberration, a weakness due to his lack of intimacy with a woman for a very long time. Yeah, that was it. He'd been overwhelmed by a sexual need that had been starved for far too long.

  Yes, he believed that. Told himself that over and over again throughout the long days at the bar and the sleepless nights in his lonely bed until his stubborn heart started listening and that fist that surrounded it eased its grip.

  Then he'd seen her again. That was all it took to shoot all his progress to hell.

  "So, are you done avoiding me?” Damn, even through the sarcasm, her voice exuded that take-me-to-bed aura that surrounded her.

  He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, he couldn't look away from her.

  Her cinnamon curls were loosely pulled back, emphasizing those huge emerald eyes, eyes that raked him up and down and glazed over with a sexual arousal that instantly hit him well below the belt.

  He pulled his gaze from her eyes and they fell lower. Bad, very bad. His groin tightened at the sight of her round, firm breasts straining against the floral fabric of her summer dress, barely held into place with two micro-thin straps. The frilly ruffles about the V-neck did nothing to soften her raw impact to his senses.

  "You look beautiful, Cass."

  He wanted to rip that dress right off her body, bury his face between her breasts and drink in the citrus scent of her. He could smell it now, tantalizing him, mingling with his own essence in the air and reminding him of what it felt like to sink into her, to fill her with his arousal.

  To become one with her.

  "Mike.” He could hear the passion in her voice. “If you think you can sweet talk me into forgiving you...ah, hell."

  His fingers stroked her cheek. It felt smooth and seductive as the heat of her shot up his arm and straight into his chest, expanding his heart to painful proportions.

  The damned dog in her arms growled in a menacing manner and snapped at the air too close to his hand. He snatched it back. He'd already experienced psycho dog's bite once before. He didn't want to do it again.

  Fine. Point taken. Look but don't touch. He could live with that. He had to live with that. It was his only chance for survival in Cassie-land.

  Reaching down, he retrieved her two over-stuffed floral bags. Her perfume assailed him and sure enough, it traveled right to his nether region, which tented his shorts up in no time. Terrific. Two hours alone in the car with Cassie and he'd be subjected to a perpetual hard-on.

  Without a word, he went to the Bronco and opened the back door to toss her bags into the large expanse of space back there.

  Too large. Too much space. In the back of the Bronco, there was plenty of room for them to...

  Breath hissed between his teeth as he realized how much he wanted to make love to her back there. Pulled along the highway, where anyone might see. Or hidden behind some trees. On the ferry. Hell, anywhere there was a vertical or horizontal surface.

  Damn, he should have brought the Mustang. But he'd been wanting to avoid that sexy laugh of hers as the wind touched her face and her hair floated about her, inciting fantasies.

  Twisting away from the Bronco, he found her right behind him. Too close for comfort. And for his throbbing erection.

  Was it possible for a thirty-year-old man to come in his pants on the sidewalk?

  Hell, yes

  He sidestepped around her.

  "Let's take your car,” he said. “It'll fit on the ferry better. You drive. I worked late last night, so I need a nap.” Good idea. That would keep her hands busy and give him time to calm down his flaming libido before it burst into flames.

  * * * *

  Bad idea. Very bad idea.

  Cassie's classic T-bird didn't leave much room between them. Even crushed up against the door, she still brushed his arm whenever she shifted the powerful vintage car. With the top up he couldn't escape her. Her spicy perfume, her humming along with the radio, her laugh at the sight of a deer alongside the road, the toss of her hair as she peeked over her shoulder, preparing to change lanes—it all assaulted him, tore at him, reminding Mike that the only thing standing between him and a long, satisfying sexual encounter with Cassie was himself.

  That and the fact that in every way, she was wrong for him. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  But for his body, she fit him perfectly.

  So he gritted his teeth, crossed his arms, hunched up against the door and pretended to sleep, thinking that if he couldn't see her, then he couldn't react.

  Again, bad idea. With his eyes closed, her perfume soaked into his brain, reminding him of how the scent had altered when mixed with the aroma of their slick, sweating bodies as he'd pounded into her. His nether regions rose up in the hope that hormones would override reason. He shoved one leg up against it, attempting to block it from view.

  No such luck. As they joined the long queue of cars waiting for the Bainbridge ferry, Cassie's hand slid across his lap and encircled his erection, right through the fabric of his shorts. His body jerked and he gasped. He wrapped his fingers about her wrist to pull her hand away, but she resisted.

  "Relax, Mike, and enjoy. Nobody can see what I'm doing, and you need some release. Let me do this for you."

  With her other hand, she unsnapped and unzipped his shorts, slid inside and with minimal fumbling through the slit in his boxer briefs, slipped him out. A towel from the back covered up his lap, and he resigned himself to her touch.

  Resigned, hell! He couldn't have said no even if he'd been able to find his voice.

  Her finger swirled about the slit, then below the ridge, using the moisture from his tip to lubricate her movements. Her hand then circled his shaft and with a firm, swift rhythm, she pumped up and down, all the while keeping her eyes peeled on the car in front of them, looking as if she did something like this every day. Only the slight hitch in her breath and the way her eyes fluttered shut briefly told him different.

  He surged against her fingers, trying to minimize the rocking of his hips. He opened his eyes and glanced at her. Her head was rolled back against the seat, her eyes half opened and her hips moved slightly, with the same rhythm as his own.

  As if she was fantasizing that he was inside her.

  That thought pushed him over the edge and he bucked helplessly under her caresses as he came. Riding the spasms, he watched her lips form a very smug smile, one that showed she was rather pleased with herself. That she was in control.

  Well, hell, he couldn't let her think that. After all, he was the guy here.

  Before she could react, he slid one hand under her flowered gauzy sundress. With the other hand, he used the towel to clean up the ‘mess’ she'd created with her attentions.<
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  He splayed his fingers over one of her inner thighs, kneading the trembling flesh.

  "Mike, stop,” she gasped. “The line's starting to move."

  "So move,” he replied, loving the flushed appearance of her face. He could do this for her. Nothing could be more erotic to him than watching Cassie being pleasured.

  And pleasure her he would. Zipping up his shorts, he leaned into her, capturing her mouth with his own. His tongue tasted and teased her parted lips; her tiny gasps fanned the heat in his blood, bringing him quickly back to a boil.

  Trailing his mouth down her neck, he concentrated his efforts on the base of her throat as his fingers made delicate circles on the inside of her thigh, moving ever closer to that hot, beckoning juncture. She whimpered against his mouth, urging him to hurry, but he took his own sweet time getting there.

  Finally, he made contact, dipping one eager finger into her folds. She moaned and shuddered, tilting her pelvis to afford him more access. He thrust in and out of her slickness, and could feel her muscles bunch and tighten while her outer flesh swelled to bursting. His thumb brushed over her hardened nub, and he pressed down on it, sending her over the edge.

  Quickly catching her mouth in a kiss, he swallowed her cries of ecstasy as she came against his hand.

  "Oh, baby,” he said against her lips, laughing at the sheer delight of her eager reaction to his touch. Continuing the kiss, he wrapped his arms around her, and as much as the cramped confines of the car would allow, pulled her against him.

  "Damn, but you're hot,” he said.

  As a car honked behind them, he gave her one last kiss, then reluctantly slipped back into his seat.

  "Time to move on,” he said with a smile, although his heart dragged downward at the words.

  When would it become time for him to move on?

  And when the time came, how would he survive?

  * * * *

  Cassie hummed the rest of the way to her family's estate on Bainbridge Island. She couldn't help herself; the fact that her staid, conservative, clean-cut, Eagle Scout man had actually given her car sex gave her hope that maybe they could bridge the personality gap and find a way to make this work.

  Mike, however, after that particularly impressive feat, curled up and continued his nap. No matter. They'd be together for two days. Admittedly, her family would be there, but the huge estate afforded many places that she could take Mike and continue her campaign to...what? What did she want? To have a brief affair with him? Given her history with men, that would probably be all she could handle. Never in her life had she sustained a relationship for more than a few years. Ken had tired of her quickly, finding other women much more fascinating than his wife. She knew that she already drove Mike crazy, and not just sexually. For years he'd been trying to keep her out of trouble, even though he rarely succeeded. And each time, she could see the frustration that boiled through him at having to once again save her behind from whatever trouble she'd gotten herself in.

  How long would it take before she frustrated him right out of her life?

  They reached the gates with Cassie still torn over what she truly wanted. Rolling down the window, she waved into the camera she knew would be aimed directly at them.

  "Hello, Miss Delistraty. And may I ask the name of your guest?"

  "Hi, Jeffrey.” The security guard must be in his late sixties, Cassie surmised. Yet his voice, coming over the intercom, sounded the same as when she'd met him almost twenty years before. “Mike Ashford is with me. Say hello, Mike."

  Mike waved a lazy hand, but declined to sit up.

  "Mister Calvin's friend? Yes, I do remember him. Your grandparents are in the solarium."

  "Thanks, Jeffrey.” Cassie put the car in gear and followed the winding path up to the ‘summer house,’ which was actually a large mansion smack in the middle of some of the most prime real estate in Washington State. Yet to Cassie, it seemed rather cold and sad, especially since that huge structure only housed two people.

  She glanced over at Mike, who now sat up, watching the house grow ever nearer. He'd always been very good at hiding his feelings. But Cassie'd studied Mike for decades now, and she could almost read his mind.

  He didn't want to be here. He hated this symbol of the upper crust. He'd be miserable all weekend, but to keep up ‘appearances,’ he'd stand it for her.

  Well, couldn't say she disagreed with him. But she'd show him that even here they could have fun. Of course, it might mean giving her grandparents fits, but hey. Everyone needed their lives shaken up a bit, right?

  * * * *

  He hated this. Stepping in the marble foyer that was larger than his entire apartment, Mike stiffened his spine and tried to unlock his already tense jaw. He didn't belong there. Nothing in his past helped prepare him to fit in a place like this. He'd been there a couple times as a kid, and had spent the entire time open-jawed and staring at all the opulence. He'd hoped he'd do better this time.

  The jaw remained closed, but the symbols of money and power still grated on him. He didn't need the reminder that he didn't belong in Cassandra Delistraty's world. But he'd promised to help her with her family, and if that meant being here for a few days, he'd find a way to survive.

  "We put you in the usual room, Miss Cassandra,” the elderly butler that Cassie'd called Steven said as he led them up the stairway. “Your friend is down the hall in the red room."

  "Actually, Steven, Mike's staying in my room."

  Both men ground to a halt and turned to stare at her. She gazed back, unblinking. Mike's pulse accelerated at the idea of spending the next two nights with Cassie wrapped around him. But horror quickly killed his ardor. He clearly remembered Cassie's grandparents from his visits as a kid. Stuart and Loretta Delistraty had made it very clear that they put up with his presence for Cal's sake. He'd felt like a bug that they'd tolerated, but barely.

  He didn't want to imagine how they'd react to Mike staying in Cassie's room.

  "Miss,” Steven's voice cracked. “I don't think that would..."

  Then Mike saw it. That little spark of mischief in Cassie's eyes. She'd wanted to shock them, and she'd succeeded.

  "It's okay, Steven. I'm gay, so she's safe with me."

  Cassie choked, and Mike grinned. Gotcha.

  "Don't listen to either one of them, Steven. Mike's not gay, nor is he sleeping in my daughter's room. The red room will suit him just fine.” Lucia floated down the curved staircase, looking gorgeous in a black pair of short pants covered in red poppies and a matching red shirt tied at the waist, leaving her flat tummy exposed. She looked exotic and many years less than the almost fifty he knew her to be.

  "Darling, you're right on time. Lunch will be served in an hour in the solarium.” She hugged Cassie, and Mike once again marveled at the similarities in the two women. The same energy level, the same walk, the same ‘look-at-me’ air about them.

  Yet, even though her outfit made Cassie's look conservative, Lucia didn't have that mischievous glint to her eyes or the lilting laugh, or that way Cassie tilted her head as she thought over something puzzling. No, Cassie was her own unique person.

  Too bad they shared negative similarities. If only Cassie could sustain a relationship. If only she weren't so impulsive.

  The ‘if only's’ could kill him.

  "Mike.” Lucia gave him a once-over. “You look so yummy. I do hope Cassandra knows what to do with you."

  Mike felt his face flush at her obvious innuendo, and it only grew worse as Cassie laughed and said, “I'm working on it, Mom."

  Lucia chuckled. “Well, darling, if you need any tips...” She swept down the stairs, leaving them alone with Steven.

  The butler carried Cassie's bags to her room, then led Mike to his own. It took him only a moment to realize that he wouldn't be able to stand more than a few minutes in there.

  The walls vibrated with red, compounded by the red and white floral bedspread and window coverings. Even the wooden floors weren't left a
lone; they were inlaid with red wooden roses.

  Too much color. He could bet that Lucia designed the room. He set down his single duffel bag and decided to head back to Cassie's room. He'd wait outside for her, of course. After the car incident, he'd realized that anywhere with Cassie could be a great place for sex. The car, the ferry, the car in the ferry....

  No, the only way to break this cycle would be to stop being alone with her. Otherwise, his hormones and her sexy smile would override his common sense every time.

  It shouldn't be too difficult. The estate would be filled with servants and Cassie's family. All he needed to do was stay in a crowd and avoid being alone with her.

  Good plan. Satisfied that he now could survive the weekend, he knocked on Cassie's door.

  Of course, he'd not built Delistraty quirks into his plan. Before he could say a word, the door opened, a hand snaked out, grabbed him by the tank top and jerked him into her room. A room with all the shades closed. A room that smelled like Cassie, aroused.

  "There's a new Jacuzzi tub in my bathroom,” she whispered against his mouth while one hand pushed the door shut. “And I need you to help me try it out.” Her tongue flicked against his lips, and his erection surged against her stomach, demolishing any protest he could muster up. But he still tried.

  "Cass, lunch—"

  She laughed against his mouth. “Well, love, if you insist, I think you'll be a great appetizer."

  She jerked off his tank top, tossing it aside. Her hand slipped down his chest, followed closely by her mouth. Coherent thought fled as purely debauched pleasure made him forget how much he didn't want to be involved with Cassie.

  "Damn, Cass,” he groaned.

  Her sultry laugh intoxicated him. “Mike, whatever's happening between us is too strong to ignore. I'm tired of fighting it. What about you?"

  With a growl, he pulled her upright, then swept her up. Carrying her to the bed, he asked, “How long until lunch?"

  Her breathy chuckle tickled his nipple. “Almost an entire hour. Think of all we can do in an hour."

  Oh, yeah, there was a lot he could think of doing with her in an hour.