by Lydia Rowan
“Are you going to stay out there all night?” he said.
Cassandra pursed her lips and then huffed, watching him in disbelief as he stood in her foyer like he belonged there. Her first impulse was to buck him if only to satisfy her own stubborn streak, but soon enough she walked through the door.
••••
The look on Cassandra’s face when he’d taken her keys had been priceless, something he would have ordinarily found amusing. He didn’t now, though, still preoccupied with trying to figure out what had happened earlier.
And trying to ignore the new flash of anger that had sparked. It was clear she wanted him gone; her incredibly polite and even more incredibly distant thank-yous and unspoken good-byes were more than enough evidence of that. Lucian suspected that was her stubbornness at play. Lucky for him, he had plenty of his own.
After she entered, he closed and locked the door while Cassandra disarmed the security system.
“Nice setup,” Lucian said.
He recognized both the locks and the system and knew they weren’t ones that most people would buy.
“Damien recommended it,” she said.
No surprise there, but Lucian was surprised by the sudden burst of jealousy. Damien and Cassandra were colleagues and friends, nothing more. Couldn’t be, not when Damien was still heartbroken and crazy after what had happened. The Senate investigation had been his brother’s nadir, his once-sterling reputation forever sullied, and most people he would have called friends now refused to have anything to do with him.
Cassandra had stuck by him, though, was close enough to ask him for advice on a security system. The logical part of Lucian was happy she kept in touch with Damien. He needed all the support he could get, but the illogical part of him, the one that Cassandra seemed to have a direct line to, recoiled at the thought of her going to someone else for help.
Cassandra was Lucian’s to protect.
In an effort to suppress that particular train of thought, he looked around the house.
Of all the times and things he’d thought of Cassandra, he’d never imagined her home, which seemed strange to him as he considered it. But, whatever he might have thought, he knew he wouldn’t have expected the place they were in now.
Cassandra’s precision and firmness made it easy to think she might live in a modern, icy environment like one of the sleek condo towers he called home. However, from this first glimpse at her home, he saw that nothing could be further from the truth.
Warm. That was the very first thought that went through his mind as he took in her space. The main floor was open with a combination living and dining room and kitchen in the back, partially obscured by four columns. The walls were filled with framed pictures, a smiling Cassandra and scores of people he didn’t recognize with the exception of Sloan.
He drifted toward the fireplace and looked at the pictures there, and as he stood, he felt Cassandra move to stand beside him.
“Big family?” he said.
“Huge. But most of them are on the East Coast. I try to get back every couple of years to see them,” she said.
“Must be nice,” he replied.
“It is, usually,” she said.
Lucian knew that both of her parents were deceased but she had two sisters and a brother, and, he gathered from the photographs, a large extended family. Something he envied her. He’d just had his parents and his brother. No aunts and uncles, no cousins. And now that his parents were gone and his brother was doing his best to join them, he had no family except the one he made at Silver Industries.
One that included her.
That thought had him looking at Cassandra, and this time he looked at her in a new light.
He wanted her. Wanted her more than he had any other woman in his entire life. But it wasn’t just that. Attraction, desire aside, he cared about her. And he would do whatever he could to make sure he never saw that look of fear ever again.
She turned, lifted her eyes to meet his, and in the next moment, she threw herself into his arms.
6
Cassandra couldn’t say what came over her.
One moment she was standing next to Lucian, looking at the pictures she saw every day, and the next, she was in his arms, holding him as if her life depended on never letting him go.
Were she herself, not still stewing from embarrassment and the last remnants of fear-induced adrenaline, she would have been able to hold herself back, but in that moment, she couldn’t think of anything else she needed to be doing.
And like the rock he was for everyone else, Lucian was there, strong, solid, telling her without words he would hold her up. She squeezed her arms around his shoulders and pressed her face against his neck. Then she held on, couldn’t make herself let go.
Soon, as the moments passed, she became aware of him in different ways. His arms around her, the masculine scent that was all him.
She’d noticed all of them before, and though she tried to pretend otherwise, now, there was no room for pretending, no room for anything but being close to him.
She tightened her grip on him, flattening her breasts against his chest. Their bodies molded together—she fit him perfectly.
Cassandra moved even closer. Lucian didn’t respond, at least not initially, but then he moved, shifted just the smallest amount until their bodies were completely aligned, every inch of their upper bodies in contact, his ever-hardening cock against her stomach.
And then, finally, she looked up and gazed at him.
His eyes were dark, even darker than before, and when she peered into them, she saw the desire that she felt reflected back at her.
She saw the moment when she knew that desire would not be fulfilled.
Lucian reached up, tucked a loose stand of hair that had fallen out of her tight bun behind her ear. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”
His voice was soft, his words sensible, and they had the same effect as being doused in ice-cold water.
The automatic step backward was thwarted because her arms were still hooked around his shoulders. By now, the cold shock had been replaced with the heat of embarrassment, and Cassandra quickly dropped her arms and stepped backward until she brushed against her sofa.
She’d put several feet between them, but those feet were not nearly enough. Not enough to lessen the intensity of his gaze on her, not enough to make her forget her throbbing body, the need for him nearly a living thing. Not enough to make her remember why this couldn’t happen. When she locked eyes with him, she knew she couldn’t, wouldn’t, let this chance pass her by.
Reversing course, she moved closer to him, her eyes on his the entire time, even when she stood in front of him, mere inches separating their bodies. “Lucian, I—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said, cutting her off.
“I wasn’t going to say I was sorry,” she said.
His eyes flashed, a moment’s confusion on his face. “What were you going to say, then?” he asked.
Cassandra’s heart began to thud even harder as she considered the weight of this moment. It would change everything, probably in ways she couldn’t even anticipate, but leaving things as they were was not an option.
“I was going to say it’s pretty obvious what’s going on here. Has been for years. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but tonight…” She lifted her hand to stroke her fingers against his chest, the softness of his T-shirt, the hardness of the muscle it covered, creating a contrast that had Cassandra squirming. “I want to put that aside, explore the chemistry that neither of us can continue to ignore.”
She finished, kept her hand on his belt buckle, and waited, watched him for a response. He kept his features impassive, but she saw the subtle change in his eyes, a deepening, darkening that confirmed to her she wasn’t in this alone.
“And when you say ‘explore,’ what, exactly, do you mean?” he asked, his voice a rough rasp.
Cassandra chuckled and pulled his shirt up t
o let her fingers play against his hard abs. “I think you have some idea,” she said, looking up to meet his eyes.
“A couple come to mind,” he said as he unbuttoned her jacket and pushed it open so that her blouse was exposed.
“I like where this is headed so far,” she said, her voice a little breathless as Lucian settled his hand at the curve of her waist, his palm burning her skin through her shirt.
“Then you’ll like where I want it to go even better,” he said, momentarily tightening his hold on her waist before he loosened it, snaked his fingers up her back, and popped open her bra.
“So far, so good,” she said as he moved his fingers in an irregular pattern on her back, his fingers working magic, the touch drawing her nipples tight and sending a flood of moisture from her sex.
“This,” he chuckled, stopped moving his hand, and began again, “is nothing. No, I want inside you.” As he spoke, he moved closer, so close, his warm breath skated down her neck, his voice rich, full in her ear.
“And then?” she asked, her own voice deeper than usual but wobbly, unstable as the arousal shook through her.
He chuckled again, the sound not humorous but instead full of seductive promise. “Then I fuck you. Hard and fast at first, taking you right to the brink. Then slow, soft, hard again, your tight, wet pussy choking my cock until neither of us can stand it,” he said, his voice barely a whisper when he finished.
She lifted her heavy lids and looped a finger in his pants. “Sounds like we’re on the same page. I’ll lead the way,” she said, not caring that her eagerness was unmistakable in her voice.
“Nope. I’m afraid we can’t,” Lucian said, leaning back to put more space between them.
Cassandra felt the frown on her face and the insistent throb between her thighs that demanded to be relieved. “Why not?” she asked.
“No condoms,” he said.
Cassandra felt her frown shifting to a smile. “Oh, we can work around that,” she said.
“I intend to,” he replied.
As he spoke, he pushed her jacket down and off her shoulders and made equally quick work of her shirt, leaving her standing in her skirt and open bra.
Lucian’s eyes were glued to her upper body, his fingers caressing her skin as his eyes did the same. Cassandra had long ago made peace with her body, and in fact loved her curves, but she still had occasional moments of doubt, expected at least some tremor of self-consciousness when a flawless Lucian looked at her.
There was none.
As Lucian looked at her, trailed his fingers along the rise of her breast, tracing the line where her bra hit skin, she felt nothing but impatient desire. She reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head, happy he lifted his hands long enough to allow her to maneuver it off. When she got her first glimpse of his bare chest, she sighed out a moan that drew a cocky smile from him. She wouldn’t begrudge him the expression or the cockiness, though, couldn’t, because he had every right to be cocky.
“Where were we?” he asked when he again moved closer to her, wrapped one arm around her waist and used the other to again tease that line between fabric and flesh.
“You were explaining how we were going to work around the absence of condoms,” Cassandra said.
“Oh, yes,” Lucian replied, but before he continued, he kissed her collarbone, trailing his lips up her neck and across her shoulder.
Without thought, Cassandra reached up to hook an arm around his neck, desperately needing something to hold on to.
“There are a number of options,” he said, his voice a muffled whisper as he nibbled at her shoulder.
“Enlighten me,” she said.
“I could tongue-fuck you, lick that sweet pussy until you come, keep licking it until you come again,” Lucian whispered.
“Uh…I-I have no objection to that,” Cassandra said, surprised she managed to speak at all.
“Didn’t think you would, but I’m going to save that for another time,” he said, sucking the flesh that covered her collarbone into his mouth before releasing it.
“So instead?” she asked, her voice still shaky.
“Instead,” he said, pulling her bra down her arms and dropping it before he reached up to palm her breast, “I’m going to suck on this nipple.”
“And?” she asked, which earned her another short bark of a laugh as he pulled her skirt up and pushed her panties down, revealing her sticky-wet cunt to the air.
“And I’m going to fuck you with my fingers while I do it,” he said.
As if to prove his point, he pushed a hand between her thighs, smiled when his fingers made contact at the wetness that greeted him. Or maybe that smile was for Cassandra’s harsh groan, one she hadn’t been able to keep back as he touched her.
She found words somehow, though. “What will I do?” she asked.
Lucian kissed down her chest, teasing at a fleshy breast as he talked. “You’re going to take my cock out and stroke it with your tight fist. And when I’m about to come, you’re going to move your hand so I can shoot my seed on you.”
Cassandra was reaching for his belt before he finished, and, using deftness she hadn’t thought herself capable of, she unbuckled it and opened his pants, pushing them down enough to free his cock. His shaft was hard, the skin smooth and hot and slick with precum. She wrapped her hand around him, squeezing him and then stroking him from root to tip and back again, feeling a sense of feminine pride when she heard the hitch in Lucian’s breath.
But he rallied, and after Cassandra had started a steady rhythm, Lucian began to move, threading his fingers through the stickiness that coated her sex before he pushed his fingers against her puffy lips, and then extended his finger and thrust it inside her, spreading her walls. A single finger eased some of the achy emptiness but didn’t take it away. The second he added took more, and when he started to move his fingers in and out of her, she cried out, her grip on his cock loosening as she rode out the waves of pleasure that crashed at her from each direction.
Their heated, harsh breaths filled the air, both of them clinging to the other. Lucian’s hand on her wrist made her look up, and as she met his eyes, he let out a low grunt. A moment later, Cassandra felt the first splash of his hot cum on her skin. The second triggered her own climax, and Cassandra held him the entire way through.
When a few moments passed, Cassandra began to calm and looked up to Lucian’s eyes. He stared back and then he moved forward slowly and caught her lips with his, kissing her hard, his lips against hers strong, yet soft, demanding and giving. Cassandra clung tight to him, and when he finally broke the kiss and smiled down at her, her heart thumped hard.
Yet, as wonderful as she felt, as the seconds ticked past, she felt an increasing sense of uneasiness. Things had changed, and she wasn’t sure how they would navigate it.
The look in Lucian’s eye told her that he knew the direction of her thoughts, but instead of responding, he pushed her stockings and panties down her legs and then settled her skirt back to its rightful place. She was still bare-chested, her nipples still beaded tight, but his actions were sweet and filled her with a welcome warmth.
“I, um, would you like to…?”
She gestured over her shoulder to the staircase, and Lucian shook his head.
“No. I’d be inside you before we hit the bed,” he said.
“So you’re leaving?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m staying downstairs. Get some sleep, Cassie. We’ll talk in the morning,” he said.
That warm glow intensified as she said, “It’s Cassandra.”
His smile was swift, breathtaking, and demanded that she return it. Then she nodded, and with that, she turned and made her way to her bedroom.
After a quick shower, she curled under the covers of her king-size bed. Her empty bed, the one she wished Lucian was in. He was right to stay away because she didn’t trust herself either, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want him there. She’d rarely given any thought to the e
mptiness, too focused on her career, but in the last year or so, the thought of someone to share her bed with, her life with, had cropped up more and more. Now, with Lucian downstairs, it was impossible not to think of having someone—him—with her here now.
This crazy day had started so ordinary, but now, she was in her bed, the warm afterglow of Lucian’s touch cocooning her in comfort. And when she heard him moving downstairs, she sighed out and then let her eyes drift closed.
7
About an hour after she’d retired upstairs, Cassandra was silent and Lucian figured she’d gone to sleep. He considered going to check, but decided against it.
God, how he’d wanted her. Still did. His hands burned with the need to touch more of her soft skin; his cock throbbed with the need to be inside her warmth.
That she was only a flight of stairs away was a temptation, one nearly impossible to resist, but he wouldn’t give in to it. There would be time later, but for now, he’d stay where he was, Cassandra’s scent on his fingers, his body tingling where he’d touched her, and get some sleep.
••••
He was still there.
It was dark, but the moon and streetlights illuminated Cassandra’s driveway enough that the vehicle occupying it could be clearly identified as one other than hers. When that vehicle had stopped in front of Cassandra’s house and she’d gotten out of it, there hadn’t been much cause for concern.
Cassandra’s tire had been flat, and there hadn’t been time to change it, so maybe that man was simply doing her a favor. A reasonable enough explanation, but one that got harder and harder to believe as the hours slipped by.
When the sun broke through the night sky, the truth was undeniable.
He’d stayed the entire night.
Done who knew what to and with Cassandra.
Cassandra should have been past this. It had been more than four years since a man had spent an entire evening at her house, and there’d been hope she had finally seen that there was no one else for her.