Getting Rough

by C. L. Parker

  I closed my eyes, falling prey to the familiarity of it all. And then I felt his lips on mine, soft and supple, tender in his silent plea for me to kiss him back. I’d missed his kiss. I’d missed Casey. And although my mind told me it wasn’t right to do so, that I’d regret it later, I gave in and kissed him back.

  The moment I parted my lips, Casey’s passion took over. He cupped my face and held me there as if he was afraid that if he let me go, I’d pull away. Covering his hands with mine, I removed them with every intention of doing just that, but instead I guided them to encircle my waist again. And then I wrapped my arms around his neck, cradling his head and holding him to me. Tilting my head, I gave him better access to my mouth, inviting his tongue inside to sample the taste he’d said he’d been missing. And taste me he did. Our tongues met and I melted into him. Casey’s kisses had always been fueled by his emotions for me, and I felt it all then. Mia was right. He was still in love with me. And judging by the hardness growing and pressing against my belly, he still wanted me, too.

  Casey’s hands moved to my ass and he lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his hips. I was lost to him, to his kiss, to a world I’d once known long ago. My back met the cushioned bench and Casey was on top of me. His lips left my mouth and started a hot trail down my neck even as his hardened cock rubbed against my center with slow but deliberate strokes.

  “That’s my good girl,” he said against my neck.

  And then I freaked. Those were Shaw’s words, but that wasn’t Shaw’s voice.

  “Stop… Casey, stop,” I said, pushing him away and wiggling out from underneath him.

  Casey sat up to give me room, but still hovered close. His breathing was heavy and he was obviously still aroused, which made me feel like the biggest tease in the world. But what I noted most was the pained expression etched into his ruggedly handsome face. He looked like I’d just slapped him. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

  “Because of him?”

  “No. Yes. I mean, no.” I jumped up and growled, frustrated and mad at myself. Taking a deep breath, I tried again. “I can’t because it’s not right, Casey. I love you. That’s never going to change. But the way I love you has.”

  I remembered a time when I’d been with Shaw and felt like I was cheating on Casey. Now, the tables had turned. Whether Shaw felt the same way about me or not didn’t matter. I did feel something for him. And although I had no clue what that something was, I knew I had to figure it out.

  Meanwhile, it wasn’t right to treat Casey like a safety net. He had been my constant; the one person I knew would always be there to catch me if I fell. Maybe some part of me had sent him mixed signals to keep him in that place, should everything in my life go to hell in a handbasket. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. And I refused to do it to him again.

  Casey sat back and his shoulders slumped. “So that’s it, then? There’s no more you and me?”

  “No, that’s not it, Casey. You’re my best friend. You always will be. We’re just not meant to be together in any other way.” I paused, not to let the words sink in or because I was waiting for his reaction, but because there was something else I needed to say and I was having a hard time pushing the words out of my mouth.

  He was no longer my Casey. I had to let him go.

  “You’re free, Casey. Really free. Be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

  “And you’re going to be happy with Shaw?”

  That wasn’t a question I could answer. Not yet. I didn’t know if Shaw wanted me. I didn’t know if I wanted him. I just didn’t know anything right then, but I definitely didn’t want Casey to wait for me any longer. So I gave him a smile and leaned in to kiss my best friend on the cheek. I realized then that this was the only sort of kiss we would ever share again.

  Rubbing my thumb over the spot when I pulled back, I told him, “I’m going to be happy knowing you’re happy.”

  And I meant it.

  CHAPTER 13

  Cassidy

  I was absolutely exhausted, having ridden some epically emotional highs and lows throughout the day, not to mention the mental strain of trying to figure out my life, and then the physical exhaustion of readying the Whalen House for Hurricane Ayla. Despite said hurricane making landfall and sounding like a train whistle doing the nasty with a banshee scream, all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and hide under the covers until it and all the dramatic bullcrap had passed.

  I’d just finished my shower, changed into my nightshirt and panties, and gotten comfortable in my bed of a million fluffy pillows when there was a knock at my door. With an aggravated huff, I threw back the down comforter, landed my feet hard on the floor, and stomped over to greet the intruder of my sanctuary.

  Abby was standing on the other side. Not that I was surprised, really. There was a freakin’ hurricane outside, so of course the parents would be worried.

  “You’re lucky it’s me and not Anna,” she said, registering my attitude. “If she could’ve gotten that wheelchair up here – and trust me, she tried – she’d have probably tied you off to the back and dragged you down the stairs.”

  It wasn’t an exaggeration. Ma would’ve done it.

  “Jeez… Abbs, will you please get her to chill out? I’m in the house, safe and sound. If the roof starts coming apart, I promise I’ll be down there. But for now, I just want to be left alone.”

  “All right. I’ll do my best,” she said, that understanding ever present in the fine wrinkles of her face. “Where’s my boy? Did you leave anything of him to bury?”

  “I didn’t lay a finger on him,” I told her. Well, I had, just in a nonviolent sort of way. “Find Mia, and I’m sure you’ll find him. What about Shaw? Is he okay?”

  She shrugged. “Seemed to be when he went up to his room. A little shaken still, contemplating life maybe, but physically fine.”

  “Thanks for what you did for him, Abbs. I don’t think you understand how much that means for him.”

  Abby patted my cheek. “I understand more than you think,” she said with a wink. “Get some rest, sweet girl. I’ll hold the fort down. And put some pants on in case you’ve got to scatter in a hurry.”

  She turned to leave and I closed the door behind her. Screw the pants. Shuffling back over to the bed beckoning me to get lost in its comforts, I snuggled in deep and tried to concentrate on nothingness, willing the sleep to come. But the more I tried to think about nothing, the more I thought about everything.

  Had I made the right decision where Casey was concerned? Yes, definitely. Most women were never lucky enough to find one good man. I, as it turned out, had two. Choosing between them had not been easy, but when I put my analytical powers to work, I could see the differences between my best friend and the man who had become the long shot.

  Where Casey always let me find my own way in my own time, Shaw pushed and shoved. Where Casey supported whatever decision I made without putting up much of a fuss, Shaw never let me become complacent and issued new challenges. Where Casey was my loudest cheerleader in the stands, Shaw ran alongside me as I raced to the finish line to meet those challenges. And where Casey helped mold me into the woman I had become, Shaw helped me realize the woman I wanted to be.

  Yes, Shaw was a long shot, the last of the draft pick, but somehow he’d still managed to make the playoffs despite his less-than-impressive stats. With the big game at hand, I realized I was no longer playing referee, but rather I was the opposing team. Would he be the one spiking my heart in the end zone with the game-winning play?

  There was another knock at my door, which irritated the living daylights out of me. Jesus, Ma had probably dumped herself from her chair and hobbled all the way up the stairs. Again, I stomped across the floor like a petulant child preparing to throw a tantrum. But when I opened the door, Ma wasn’t standing there. Neither was Abby.

  I nearly tripped over my own
feet as I tried to move out of the way of a charging Shaw, as he blew past me and into my room. If our turbulent history had taught me anything, it was that when Shaw Matthews was in a tizzy, as he seemed to be now, a less-than-quiet confrontation was about to go down. So I closed us in together, hoping the fit that Hurricane Ayla was throwing would keep the parents and Casey from overhearing. Especially Casey. The last thing I needed was to give him a reason to bust down the door so he could finish the brawl he and Shaw had started earlier.

  When I turned around, Shaw was so close that I nearly collided with his chest. But it didn’t keep me from noticing the way those jeans sat sinfully perfect on his hips, or the way they hugged his thighs, or the way they accented the bulging package in the center. His white T-shirt was stretched too tight across his toned shoulders and chest, the collar snug around a perfectly sculpted neck. For the first time in my entire life, I wanted to mark a man. I wanted to mark this man.

  It was yet another difference in the way I saw Shaw versus Casey. With Casey, I’d wanted to snuggle into the warm protection of his embrace. But Shaw? I wanted to climb him. Climb him and sink my teeth into him. And I wanted him to shove me away so that I’d have to work for it. There was something unhealthy about that, disturbing even. Then again, he was the one person who’d always managed to make me insane.

  Judging by his expression, now was not the time to attack. There was no cocky smirk on his lips, no ticking of his scruffy jaw, and no high-and-mighty set to his chin. His eyes were electric, swarming with white lightning. Yet there was a gentleness about them. He hadn’t come here to argue. So what had he come here for?

  “I almost died today, and it made me realize something.”

  My heart plummeted, and the thought of Shaw dying made me sick to my stomach. I don’t think I’d thought about how much his near-death experience had affected him, which was so incredibly stupid of me. None of this was about me. It was about him. I had to find a way to fix this.

  “Shaw,” I started, but he cut me off.

  He grabbed my shoulders, holding me in place, and though it was firm, it wasn’t meant to be forceful. “No, let me finish. If you don’t, I’ll never get it out.”

  “Okay.” I looked down at my shoulder and he eased his hold as if he’d just realized what he’d done.

  “I almost died today and I was alone. Just like I have been for my entire life. And I always thought I was okay with that, but I’m not.” He stopped, cupping my face in his hands. “Cassidy, I don’t want to be alone anymore. Not tonight. Not any other night.”

  Before I could even process what he’d said, Shaw was kissing me. And though his body was taut with restraint, his lips were tender. I couldn’t put my finger on what was different, but something had definitely changed. Maybe it was his near-death experience. Maybe it was the hurricane beating down with all its fury outside. Or maybe it was Shaw’s internal fury, rising to the surface to finally surrender.

  A contradiction to his kiss, Shaw’s hands were at my hips, his fingertips pressed into my skin with a firm grip. And then he fisted my shirt and broke the kiss to pull it over my head before fusing his lips back to mine once more. He was still dressed, and even though I wanted nothing more than to rectify that situation, Shaw was running the show.

  He walked me backward, his mouth moving to my neck, my shoulders, and the valley between my breasts until he pushed them together to devour first one and then the other nipple. When the back of my knees hit the bed, his hands abandoned my breasts to cup my ass and lift me up to sit on top of the mattress. The crown of Shaw’s disheveled pecan brown hair was all that I saw and felt against my lower belly as he went even farther and…

  I gasped. “Oh, my God,” I groaned when I felt the warmth of his mouth soaking me through my panties.

  Well, maybe his mouth hadn’t been fully responsible for the soaking. My wanton vagina probably had a thing or two to do with it as well. But Christ, the man knew how to awaken the woman in me. I’d have to remember to check this pair of panties to see if I’d purchased them with a bull’s-eye over my clit because Shaw had managed to find it with absolutely no problem. Even hidden as it was.

  Gripping his hair in both hands, I held on for dear – “Sweet baby Jesus” – life. The interruption to my thought was a very welcome one, indeed. Though I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to think of anything when Shaw was doing that thing he was doing… through my freakin’ panties.

  I tried to lie back in order to enjoy the gift being bestowed upon me, but Shaw’s muffled “Mm-mm” and tight hold on my sides kept me from going anywhere. So I did what any other woman in my position would do. I watched him, and I was ever so glad I did. Slow and steady was his pace as his head moved back and forth while his tongue made love to me. And then finally, the panties were breached when he pulled them to the side and plunged two fingers deep inside.

  My back arched, and this time I was permitted to recline back onto the mattress. Shaw’s tongue, lips, and teeth aided him in his quest to drive me insane. Back and forth he moved his fingers, alternating with knuckle-deep thrusts meant to keep it unpredictable. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I couldn’t stand that he was so far away, and I couldn’t stand the damn panties that were keeping him from doing anything more than teasing me into oblivion.

  I could’ve come. And I was sure that was Shaw’s intent, but I didn’t want to. I wanted my first orgasm with him tonight to be on his cock.

  “Shaw, I need you.”

  He stopped what he was doing, and for a moment I almost changed my mind about letting him continue. But when he looked up at me with that same sense of surrender coupled with a hungry need in his eyes, goosebumps broke out across my flesh.

  “You have me,” he said with a quiet conviction.

  I don’t know what it was about his choice of words, but I sat up and took his face into my hands to kiss him, to taste myself on his lips. He needed to know he had me, too, and I tried to convey as much with that one simple, yet passionate action. Because words were meaningless without the physical proof.

  Shaw gripped my thighs and pulled me closer, and I felt the warmth of his chest through a shirt that was every bit as annoying as my stupid panties. It had to go, so I gave it a tug and pulled it over his head. When he sat back and looked at me as if to say, “What now?” I put the words to good use.

  “I meant I need you inside me.”

  My onetime adversary, now turned lover, got to his bare feet. Remaining focused on me, he undid the button and zipper of his jeans. My attention shifted to the toned planes of his chest, the ripples of his abdomen, and the sloping curves of the Adonis belt he wore so well. Chancing movement, I reached out and let the tips of my nails gently comb through the fuzzy trail of hair that started at his navel and ended at his groin. Shaw took a deep breath, the muscles there flexing involuntarily under my touch.

  He was beautiful.

  And impatient.

  Shoving his jeans over the narrow hips that paired well with his muscle definition, Shaw kicked them free of his feet and then stood erect once more. And speaking of erect… His cock was already hard for me, almost begging me to have a taste in the way it jutted out from his body toward me. But there was no time for that before Shaw leaned in, forcing me to recline back once more. It was a good thing, because when he hooked his fingers under the waistband of my panties and gave them a yank, I didn’t even have the chance to lift my ass to aid him. He didn’t need a lovely assistant; he just needed me naked and bare for him.

  As Shaw followed onto the bed, he scooted me up to lay on the pillows, the palm of one of his capable hands planted next to me to hold his weight. And then he did something too sweet for the Shaw Matthews I knew. With a tender touch, he raked his fingers through my hair, being sure to brush it away from my face, almost methodical in the way he arranged it like a crimson halo about my head.

  The veins in his forearm were so mesmerizing, I couldn’t turn away and I couldn’t squelch the savage cravin
g for a taste. So I selfishly took what I wanted, my tongue following a vessel ripe with pulsing blood beneath his skin. The sound Shaw made was half protest, half approval – as if he didn’t know whether to stop me in favor of his own control, or to encourage me so he could lose it.

  My mouth closed over his skin to give him a suckle, and that was when he made his decision. With the dominating insistence of a lion, he leaned forward and nudged my mouth away from his arm so he could capture my bottom lip between his teeth. He could have his way. I loved him like this.

  Except I didn’t love him, did I? Confusing love with lust was one sinkhole I wouldn’t fall into. Not with a man who had the power to devastate me. Not with a man like Shaw.

  My lion’s thick mane of hair was soft between the fingers of my clenched fist. I tugged, attempting to force him to release the hold on my lip before he broke the skin, but there was no victory to be had. Mercifully, Shaw’s appetite for flesh subsided in exchange for that same tender, yet fiery passion he’d shown when he’d first entered my room.