by D. A. Young
“Don’t ever call her a bitch again,” he said in an eerily calm voice. It was the calm before a tsunami struck, wreaking havoc and destroying everything in its path. Casey’s jaw clenched tightly, and his large hands balled into fists as his blazing eyes dared her to repeat herself. They promised that his brand of crazy would surpass Sidra’s faster than a cheetah on Red Bull, if she was stupid enough to try. Gotcha!
“Why can’t I express my opinion about what you’ve just told me, Casey?” Laura demanded, going hard on him. “It seems to me that she’s causing unnecessary stress in your life that you don’t need. Surely you can see that she’s bad for you? When I think of all the progress we’ve made and how her “Negative Nelly” ass is interfere-”
Casey’s hand slapped the table so hard; Laura stopped mid-sentence, heart beating with excitement at the progress they were making.
Face hard with fury, Casey spoke slowly, “Doc, I think there might have been a bit of miscommunication between you and me. What I was trying to say is: she’s the most vibrant, outrageous character I’ve ever met.” He looked away from her. “She’s beautiful, smart, funny, and sharp; and when I’m with her, she makes me feel…incredibly alive.”
Fighting back tears of happiness, Laura struggled to keep her tone neutral. “So is that why you’re here?”
Frustrated, Casey ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, I don’t know why I’m here! We’re in the middle of this thing…and it’s a secret!” He stood up, pacing back and forth in the dining room as Laura patiently waited for him to continue.
“Why do I have to be a dirty little secret? I own a successful law firm, pay my taxes, and am decent-looking. Not to be conceited, but most women happened to find me to be a catch! What is she so ashamed of? Is it because I’m white?” he raged aloud, pacing the dining room slowly. Laura got the feeling he’d forgotten she was in the room, and this was a conversation he’d often argued in true lawyer style with himself.
“You think she’s a closet racist?” Laura asked mildly, and Casey looked thoughtful.
“I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t even know. We don’t really talk about shit. We just, pardon my French, fuck. There’s no wining and dining, which I think is highly unfair. I mean, I work her over pretty good, the least she could do is buy me a steak! Or leave a twenty on the nightstand!” Casey said indignantly, causing Laura to laugh and cover her embarrassed face. “I suppose I could always run a background check, but I want her to open up to me on her own, which I don’t think will be happening anytime soon. Whenever I get chatty, she grabs her clothes and takes off!”
“How do you feel about Sidra?” Laura asked gently; and the heated, lustful look he gave her made her raise the cold bottle of water to her neck in an attempt to cool off. “Dear me, I don’t know whether to be jealous of the poor girl or say a prayer for her,” she whispered, half-envious of the passion between these two.
Embarrassed, Casey chuckled. “I know, right?! Half the time I feel like I need a drink just to tolerate her. Nevertheless, I do like some things. With Ruby, her tough side is gone. She’s so soft, sweet, and open. I also like how her breathing changes whenever I touch her. I like that she’s passionate, responsive, and adventurous.” With a serious look on his face, he said, “Don’t even get me started on that body, Doc.”
“I think I get the picture!” Laura exclaimed, fanning herself. Heavens that was way more information than she needed to know. Clearing her throat, she continued “Case, you’re a handsome, smart, and charming guy. There are plenty of women who’d love to spend time with you and give you what you want. So I’ll ask the two most important questions that need to be addressed. One, why are you wasting your time with this person? And two, what scares you from going after what you want?”
Somberly, Casey looked at her. He wanted to answer her, but the words were lodged too deep in his throat to come out.
Laura smiled gently. “You can’t hold back now. This is good stuff. Your visit tonight was a good thing, so don’t take twenty steps back. You already know the answer to question one. Question two has everything to do with your parents. It’s time to address it, Casey.”
Chapter Two
Whiskey Row
“Will you need anything else, Ms. Barton? The pilot estimates that we should be arriving at the hangar in about twenty minutes,” the older, blonde, flight attendant said with a warm smile.
Sidra smiled back. “No thank you, Caroline. And again, please call me Sidra. I’ve been on this plane enough times that you should definitely drop the formalities!”
Caroline laughed. “Oh no, I couldn’t! Mr. Romankov would definitely not approve of us using such familiarity with his friends and family.”
Sidra gave a fake pout. “Well it will just have to be our little secret then. By the way, how’s that gorgeous grandson of yours? Break any hearts lately?”
The other woman’s face lit up like the Fourth of July. “Adam is getting so big! His mama was just saying that he loved the frosted animal cookies you made for him. She can’t thank you enough, and he can’t stop asking for them.”
With a teasing smile, Sidra reached into her carryon bag and pulled out a long flat package adorned in snowman wrapping paper. “Then it’s a good thing I made these for him!” She handed the package to a teary-eyed Caroline, before reaching inside the bag for more packages. “I got these awesome, sheepskin socks for the pilots. They make you feel like you’re walking on air. Absolutely to die for! Here, this one’s for you. Spoiler alert, it’s your favorite perfume and a certificate to Miramar’s Spa.”
Caroline took the package with trembling hands. Never in a million years would she ever have thought that she would be comfortable enough to speak to the young woman in front of her. She could still remember the epic fight between her and Mr. Casey last year on this very plane. To look at Sidra’s exquisite face, one would never think that she could spew vernacular foul enough to make truckers and sailors want to take notes. Mr. Casey either, for that matter. By the time the plane landed, the crew was ready for therapy and shots of tequila to calm their frayed nerves.
With the relocation of Jack and Noelle Sullivan from New York to Whiskey Row, friends and family were frequently utilizing Mr. Romankov’s private plane. Sidra was usually accompanied by Ms. Monroe or, like today, flying solo. At first, Caroline was leery of even looking in the temperamental woman’s direction for fear of having her throat slit. Then one day, Caroline was talking to Teddy, one of the pilots, about her husband Fred, who was reminiscing about Italian rainbow rookies. She wanted to surprise him with some, but couldn’t find them anywhere.
Three days later, Ms. Barton boarded the plane, keeping to herself as usual. When she left the plane, in her seat was a box addressed to Caroline. When she opened the package, she was surprised to see the colorful, cake-cookie treats filled with apricot and raspberry jam. Her husband Fred was ecstatic when she brought the cookies home and later that night particularly amorous. The next time Caroline saw Ms. Barton, she gave her an impulsive hug, and the crew collectively held their breath to see if she had just flipped the bitch switch and they needed to buckle up for the ride. Sidra just smiled and hugged her back. Then she apologized to everyone for using extremely creative “sentence enhancers” on her first trip.
“Thank you so much for thinking of me, but you didn’t have to do this,” Caroline said tearfully, clasping hands with her.
“I know I didn’t, but I just wanted to let you guys know that I really appreciate all you do. You’re married with a family and constantly traveling. Women are the nucleus of families and should always take care of themselves. So enjoy,” Sidra said firmly. Half-jokingly she added, “Just don’t tell anyone. It will ruin my reputation.”
A loud beep sounded before Teddy’s voice came over the speakers. “Ladies, I’m gonna need y’all to buckle up. We are just about to land. Ms. Barton, as always it’s been a pleasure. Merry Christmas to you and your family.”
Caroline
gave her another hug, before disappearing to her station. Buckling up, Sidra shouted in the direction of the cockpit. “Thanks, Teddy Bear! The same to you and your family. I expect pics of your newborn daughter next time I see you!”
Quickly Sidra got out her purse and used her pressed compact to reapply her lipstick and add an extra coat of mascara to her long lashes. Satisfied that she looked decent, she pulled out a bottle of hair spritz and flipped her hair over before spraying. Quickly she ran her fingers through her tresses and counted to twenty before lifting her head up and peering into her compact mirror. Happy with the results, she put her beauty supplies away.
While Sidra didn’t think she was ugly enough to walk through a haunted house and come out with a paycheck, she felt it didn’t hurt to look your best at all times. Especially when dealing with a man beautiful enough to coin Beyoncé’s popular phrase “I woke up like this”. It kind of gave you a complex somewhere between ‘Yeah I know he fine, ain’t he?’ and ‘Reminder: set early alarm so he doesn’t wake up next to Gollum’. Butterflies flitted in her tummy at the thought of seeing Casey again. After hooking up for a third time at Noelle and Jack’s wedding, they’d both reluctantly agreed that they each had an itch that only the other could scratch.
Slowly he pulled out of her, and immediately she missed the sense of crazy intimacy that was building between them. Casey lowered her until her feet touched the floor and pulled her close, massaging the ache in her lower back as his lips trailed soft kisses and nipped gently along her neck. Spent and pliant, she clung to him, turning her head to seek his lips, ravenous for more of his wildly potent kisses. Tongues dueling, he pressed her into the door again, his hands cupping her breasts and fondling her swollen nipples roughly.
“Don’t stop,” Sidra moaned shamelessly into his mouth, clutching him tightly to her. Underneath her bridesmaid’s gown, her pussy was throbbing from their recent joining and an eagerness to have him inside of her again. Casey slipped one hand under her dress and placed it between her slick thighs, cupping her silken heat. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at her, eyes glittering in the moonlight as his fingers claimed her. His thumb caressing her clit before abruptly stopping. Sidra canted her hips, silently urging him to work her over good and ease the ache building inside, but he refused to move; just watched her and waited. Frustrated, she bit her lip and looked away refusing to grind on his fingers. Damn, she hated being so vulnerable to him!
“Look at me,” Casey rasped. Closing her eyes, Sidra shook her head stubbornly, stuttering on her next breath as his fingers suddenly plunged deeper into her wetness. “LOOK. AT. ME.”
Her eyes flew open, and the stark need she saw reflected in the depths of his eyes took her breath away. She swallowed hard, before replying in a low tone. “You have my attention.”
Casey smirked, “That’s not good enough. I want more than your attention, Sidra. I want this.” His fingers curled against her g-spot repeatedly as his thumb stroked her clit. She whimpered but was determined not to break his gaze, even though she was soooo close to release. “Whenever I see you.” Curl, stroke. Curl, stroke. “As many times as you can take me.” Curl, stroke. Curl, stroke. “Until we have to part ways again. Do you understand?”
Heart pounding furiously, Sidra nodded her head wordlessly. Casey shook his head regretfully and inserted a third finger into her tightness. His grin turned positively feral as her pussy clamped down on his digits and her legs started to shake. “That’s still not good enough. I need the words confirming you understand and that this is what you need too.”
Sidra was so wet; her arousal was running down Casey’s hand. Shuddering, she hissed “YES. I’m saying yes. That I want this too, but… it stays between us. I...don’t want anyone else to know. Those are the terms I’m agreeing to. Take it or leave it.”
She thought she saw disappointment in his eyes, but must have been mistaken as his mouth came crashing down on hers brutally. Her eyes drifted shut in ecstasy as he expertly finger-fucked her into oblivion, swallowing every sound she uttered along the way.
They agreed that they wouldn’t seek each other out, but if they happened to be in the same city…in close proximity…then fucking was a done deal. It was hot, wild, and they couldn’t get enough of each other. He was just as far gone as she was, and when he pulled that big dick out of his pants…MERCY.
Sidra didn’t care how he gave it to her, just as long as he didn’t stop. With a stroke deeper than Michael Phelps, he served it up as fierce and on point as Serena Williams. He was rough, thorough, dominating, and very meticulous about her coming several times, before he gave in to his own release. Casey had her steady clutching whatever she could so hard, as she took him in over and over again, that by the time they were done, he either had scratches all over his back and shoulders or the bedsheets had come off. It was so good, that as vocal as she was, Sidra couldn’t even scream out her release. It came out in a soft, strangled sob, making her sound like a goddamn damsel in distress. It infuriated her to no end and his smug, egotistical grins let her know that there was nothing she could do about it.
It still boggled her mind how someone so calm, polished, and professional, could rock her world so thoroughly. Always a gentleman, Casey was charming and polite to everyone except her. With her, his gaze was hooded, so only she could see the fire smoldering in those gorgeous, hazel eyes. They perused her body, leaving her feeling as if she were standing too close to a raging fire. Or the way his square jaw, covered with five o’clock shadow, clenched when he looked at her lips. He especially took her breath away when his lips quirked into that devastating, signature smile to reveal his perfect, white teeth. With his deeply tanned skin, tousled dirty blonde hair falling across his forehead, and chiseled cheekbones, Casey Sullivan was breathtaking.
Apparently Sidra was crazy because she was the only one who could see that “Mr. Goody-Two Shoes” Sullivan was up to no good. Oh sure it seemed innocent to others, but only because the sneaky bastard was clever with his Jedi mind tricks. For instance, they missed the way his casual touch caused her pulse to leap erratically. Or how about his scent of warm spices, leather, and something woodsy that was so deliberately intoxicating, it made her long to curl up into him and never leave. Then there was the way her eyes helplessly tracked him whenever they were in the same room. This ensured that he was always visible to her, and she could appreciate his tall sinewy frame. It made her wish that she had x-ray vision, so she could enjoy the broad shoulders, washboard abs, sculpted thighs, and ass that were concealed by his custom-tailored wardrobe. Sneaky. Bastard. All of these calculated actions were guaranteed to produce the desired effect of her being aroused and ready to receive him. And she was. Always. That is, until two weeks ago when she’d seen him at the Kennedy Center Honors with little Swiss Miss clinging to his arm. When Casey had offered her a ticket, it was done very casually, as he urged her to use it as a way to network. He insisted that she do her thing and he would do his. Sidra’s pride wouldn’t allow her to accept his indifferent offer. He’d practically called her his homie!
Instead, she’d bought a really sexy dress, got herself all bossed up, and accompanied her boss, Dominick Harris. She hoped that Casey did see them together, but never did she imagine that she would have to see him with someone else. It was unnerving how good Casey and his date looked together. Judging from the way blondie preened like a peacock and clung to his arm, she thought so as well.
Sidra tried to appear unruffled at the sight of them, but inside she was Grinch-green with jealousy. That was her awakening moment on just how screwed she was. Because clues like watching him sleep, discreetly spraying his cologne on her body, the sound of his low laugh making goosebumps break out all over her body, or his smile causing her heart to beat like an 808 drum were too subtle for her. Now she was in too deep with her feelings to walk away from Casey unscathed. Sidra decided right then it was time to end things. Since then, she’d avoided all forms of contact with him. It was inevitable that she w
ould run into him this trip, but she vowed to keep her distance and behave herself. Having feelings for someone that couldn’t be returned made one vulnerable, and after the kind of childhood she’d endured, Sidra didn’t do vulnerable.
***
“Ms. Barton.” Sidra blinked and was surprised to see Teddy the pilot, standing next to her chair, smiling at her with sunglasses on. “We’ve landed. You might wanna put your sunglasses on if you have some, ‘cause it’s a little bright out there. Do you have a ride arranged or should I call someone for you?”
“Sorry, Teddy. Yes, I do have a ride, thank you,” she said, standing up to gather her things and put on the requested sunglasses. Sidra followed him out of the plane, shivering as the icy fresh air hit her face and the wind whipped her hair around. She gave a long, approving whistle as she took in nature’s beauty. The sky was a clear blue, and the sun caused everything covered in snow to sparkle brightly. Teddy urged her to watch her step as she descended the stairs carefully. Jack’s Range Rover was already there, and Noelle was getting out. She said her goodbyes again to the crew and carefully walked across the icy tarmac to one of her dearest friends. They squealed and hugged each other tightly. Or as tightly as they could, considering Noelle’s swollen belly.
Sidra pulled back to examine her. A little over six months pregnant, Noelle Sullivan was absolutely gorgeous. Her clear skin, the color of brown sugar, radiated with a pregnancy glow. A bright, red knit beanie adorned her head, concealing her curls, and she wore a black turtleneck sweater with a herringbone-patterned vest over it. Her long legs were encased in black sweater-like leggings, and covering her feet were…what…the…hell?
“Girl, I am loving this look! You need to leave this here with me when you go,” Noelle gushed, touching Sidra’s knee-length burgundy, navy blue, and copper geometric- patterned poncho. She looked down at Sidra’s high heeled, laced up, cognac-colored boots. “And those boots though! I know you didn’t bring your high-maintenance behind down here without bringing me a pair. Tell me you brought me some!”