My heart melts into a puddle, pooling at my feet, weighing me to the floor. “I don’t need a commitment. I don’t want you to make promises you can’t keep but I can’t stand this back and forth. If you’re done with me, you’re done, and if you’re not, then I don’t want to go weeks between seeing you, regardless of how casual our relationship is.”
“It’s not,” he quickly blurts. He takes a step closer, bringing his hand to my face. My heart races when his thumb softly strokes my cheek. “I can’t offer you a future, at least not right now, but whatever we are, for as long as we last, we’re not seeing other people.”
Following my heart and not my head, I blurt, “Okay. With that behind us, let’s open that bottle of wine and order some take out. I’m freaking starving.”
He tilts his head back and laughs, and the sound is like music to my ears because, for the first time since I’ve met him, he finally appears relaxed and carefree.
We spent Friday night at the apartment where I learned Kase wasn’t randomly wearing a Dodgers shirt, he’s a season ticket holder—hint: a huge fan. The Dodgers were home yet we watched the game together sitting on Brenna’s old lumpy couch.
Kase stayed the night and the next morning, he asked me to spend the weekend at his house. My mind flashed to three weeks ago. Our weekend started off the same. My head screamed at me to tell him, no but my heart had me packing a bag.
“Make yourself at home, I’ll be just a second. I need to email my assistant and let her know I’m unavailable until Monday.”
After a quick kiss on my cheek, he leaves me standing alone in his living room.
I flop down on a chair in the corner of the room taking in the view when I spot a framed picture sitting on the end table—one I don’t remember seeing before. It’s of a beautiful woman with long dark hair, smiling at the toddler resting on her hip. Her head is turned to the side—making it hard to see her face—but the love she feels for that child is clear as day.
“That’s my mother and me.”
“She’s gorgeous.” I set the picture down. “What happened to her?”
His body goes stiff, and narrowing his eyes toward the floor, he says, “My father killed her.”
My mouth opens, but words won’t form. I want to tell him I’m sorry, but not knowing what happened, I’m not sure what to say.
“Have you seen the movie, The War of The Roses? Because that’s a fairly accurate description of the type of relationship my parents shared.”
My lips part, and I manage to whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“My dad was an asshole, and my mom was plenty capable of being a bitch when the mood hit but out of the two of them, she’s the only one who gave a damn about me.”
He turns away rubbing his hands over his face.
“If you want to talk about it, we can. And if you don’t, that’s okay too.”
“I’m sorry,” he responds, dropping down on the couch. “But talking about my parents is still a sore subject for me.”
“It’s okay.” I get up only to take a seat next to him. Staring out the window, I ask,
“Have you ever wished for a redo?”
“A redo?”
My head turns to the side at the same time his does. “If you were given one redo, one chance to go back in time and change something, would you take the opportunity?”
“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat.
“I read an article a couple a years ago about a woman who was dating a man who beat her regularly. She couldn’t afford to leave him because she had nowhere to go. No family, no friends. She prayed every night for something to change. Then one day, while she was getting gas she went into the convenient store and bought a Powerball ticket. She’d never purchased a lottery ticket before but that night, she became a millionaire.”
His eyebrows pucker. “Are you suggesting it was a good thing her boyfriend beat her?”
“She ended up using a huge chunk of the money she won to start a foundation that builds shelters for those in need. She’s helped hundreds, if not millions, of people but if she had the power to go back in time, to not meet that man, she wouldn’t only be altering her life, she’d be affecting everyone her money has helped.”
His mouth quirks up. “So, it is a good thing he beat her?”
“No, but change starts a domino effect.” Taking a page out of his book, I ask, “Haven’t you ever watch Back To The Future?”
He smiles. “I get what you’re saying.”
“The list of things I wish I never did or wish I could change is a mile long, but the truth of the matter is if I hadn’t traveled the road I did, I wouldn’t be here.”
He places his hand on the side of my neck tilting my face toward his. “When two people were destined to meet, it’ll happen, regardless of the journey.”
I can’t help but wonder if he’s talking about me or his parents.
“I’m done focusing on the past. From now on, I’m going to concentrate on my future.”
At my comment, he squeezes my neck and says, “Your future is worth a hundred lottery tickets. I only hope one day you remember the reason you wanted to purchase one in the first place.”
Looking for a reason to lighten the tension, I climb onto his lap. “Who needs a lottery ticket when they have you?”
Chapter Eleven
Kase
With her hand in mine, we walk past the pool and out to my private piece of paradise.
“We’re spending the afternoon on the beach?”
“Staring at you in a swimsuit could easily become my new favorite pastimes, but I also wanted to give you a taste of something else I enjoy.” I motion with my head to the boards lying close to the shore.
“Surfing?”
“Windsurfing.”
With her feet firmly planted in the sand, she shakes her head. “I have horrible balance. My one and only attempt at skiing, I ended up with a broken ankle.”
Giving her hand a light tug, I force her legs to move. “Lucky for us, if you fall, you’ll land in water. You can swim, right?” I question with a laugh that fades when her eyes fill with panic.
“Yes, but I’m used to swimming in a pool, not an ocean.”
“I learned to surf when I was just a kid. A friend of mine introduced me to windsurfing when I was fifteen, and it quickly turned into a passion.”
She’s staring at the boards, her shoulders stiff. “Relax,” I mumble pulling her into my arms. “I’d never place you in danger, nor will I make you do something you don’t want to.”
Dropping to the sand, with her between my legs, I brush a strand of hair behind her ear, breathing in her sweet scent, one I tried for weeks to forget. “What do you do for fun?”
She huffs a fake laugh. “Fun? Until I moved here, I can’t remember the last time I did anything considered fun. Image was everything to my mother. I was always expected to act a certain way, to dress a certain way, and go wherever I was told without question. That didn’t leave me with much time to think about what I’d do with my time if I actually had a say in my life.”
My childhood was far from perfect, but I didn’t give a damn what my parents—especially my father—thought of me. The idea of living life trying to please someone else makes my skin crawl. “Your overbearing parents are nowhere to be seen, it’s ‘sky’s the limit’ here. Tell me what you want to do, and we’ll do it.”
A rush of adrenaline spreads through my veins at the idea of showing her, no, giving her the world. With a sigh, she relaxes into my arms. “In college, I always wanted to go out dancing but I never did. My mother would have killed me.”
“Dancing?”
She turns her head to the side looking me in the eyes. “Yes, dancing, and not the kind you’d do in a ballroom.”
“Aw, I see.” My arms instinctively tighten around her. “Then we’ll go dancing.”
“We will?” She questions with a hint of giddiness that has me smiling.
Delanie is completely opposite
of any woman I’ve known. She comes from money but she seems to appreciate simple things others take for granted. And, unlike my ex, when she looks at me, I don’t see dollar signs in her eyes.
“You want to know a secret?”
I force myself not to tense hearing her question. Do I want her confessing secrets when I’m keeping so many myself?
“I hate my job,” she goes on when I don’t say anything. “My mom thought a college degree was a waste of time. She only agreed to pay half my tuition after my dad told me I could go to any school I wanted.” She glances down, suddenly avoiding my eyes. “For four years, while Carter was across the country earning his degree, I was earning mine, thinking I was gaining my independence from not only him but my family. However, I was wrong. We both graduated, Carter proposed, then left for Cambridge to earn his masters. Without telling anyone until after the fact, I applied and accepted a job at Thornton Investments.”
“And now you hate working for the company?”
She looks up at me. “I ended up with exactly what I wanted. A degree and a job but…”
“But what?” I prompt, when she doesn’t say anything else.
“A career and a job are two different things.”
You can only learn so much about a person from the internet. Knowing her credit score or that she graduated Summa Cum Laude only paints the picture she wants the world to see, not the person behind the glass wall she’s clearly wearing around her heart.
“If you want to go dancing, then we’ll go tonight. I know just the place to take you.”
“Really?”
“You’re acting like taking a beautiful woman out to a club is a hardship, but I assure you, it’s not.”
She sits up in my arms, her eyes wide with excitement. “Thanks to Brenna, I brought the perfect dress to wear.” Her gaze wanders to the boards I had Tim bring out earlier this morning lying on the beach. “I think I’m ready to learn how to windsurf.”
“I appreciate the effort but I’m not going to push you into learning something you’re not interested in.”
“I just told you something I wanted to do and you agreed without question. Why would I refuse to do the same thing?”
“Dancing and surfing aren’t really comparable.”
She laces her hands around my neck, her eyes still bright and thriving with energy. “You have everything already out here. What’s the worst that could happen? I might drown?” She quickly brushes her lips across mine before jumping to her feet.
Drowning? Shit, just how bad is her balance?
“You know what? I’m not sure this is such a good idea after all.”
She laughs, thinking I’m joking when I’m not.
“Get your butt over here and teach me how to windsurf.” She strips off the pink cover-up she has on, exposing three little green patches of cloth.
“Holy shit,” I groan, my dick instantly hardens. “That’s not exactly the type of swimsuit you surf in.” With my eyes locked on her tits, I close the distance between us, like a tiger ready to pounce on its prey.
Delanie
When I told Brenna I was spending the weekend with Kase, she insisted I take her knee-length burgundy wrap dress—something I’m now extremely grateful for. The V neckline dips lower than anything I’ve worn, but looking at myself in the mirror, I feel sexy and confident. Leaving my hair down, I slip on my open-toed strap heels and make my way downstairs. Walking through the kitchen and living room but coming up empty, my eyes settle on his office door, the one place he hasn’t openly invited me in, not that there’s been a reason to. Carter was secretive about everything he did, everyone he spoke to. I always felt like an outsider in my own relationship—something I swore would never happen again.
I’m not clear on what the dynamics are between me and Kase, but he showed up at my door after leaving me high and dry for close to three weeks. I’m clueless as to what changed—then or now—but I refuse to sit back, living in a state of denial.
After one sharp knock, I push the door open and step inside, finding him sitting behind a large oak desk in the center of the room.
“Damn, you look amazing.” He pushes to his feet, wearing a charcoal gray dress shirt that he didn’t bother tucking in, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a pair of dark jeans.
“You look pretty good yourself.”
“We better go before our night of dancing is derailed.”
He places his hand at the small of my back, guiding me to the garage. When I pause in front of the Maserati, he motions with his head to the other side of the garage. “We’re not taking the car tonight.”
Following his line of sight, my stomach tightens. “We’re riding a motorcycle?”
“Why not?”
“I’m in heels, for starters.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says with a wink. “Besides, I can’t stop fantasizing of having you on my bike.”
“I didn’t even know you owned one.”
“There are a lot of things we don’t know about each other. I think we need to rectify that one day at a time.”
He hands me a helmet, waiting until I have it safely secured before he puts his own on. Once he’s on the bike, he turns, wearing a huge smile. “You ready?”
I quickly hop on, sliding my hands under his shirt and around his waist. “Don’t let go,” he shouts when the bike roars to life. Seconds later, with my hair whisking in wind, arms wrapped around him, and my legs clenched against his to keep my dress from blowing up, I’ve never felt freer in my life. Like anything is possible, and maybe with Kase, it is?
At every street light we stopped at, heads would turn our direction, and I fall a little more for him because, for the first time in my life, I didn’t give a damn what anyone was thinking of me.
I’m certain he knew how much I was enjoying myself because he drove several miles past Club Dirt before finally parking out front like he owns the place.
The second he has his helmet off, he’s helping with mine.
“Is this your club?” I say with a laugh.
“No, but I know the owner. He runs a safe yet insanely busy club.”
He shakes the bouncer’s hand like they’re long lost friends, hands him our helmets to hold, then with his arm wrapped around my waist, he guides me inside. Music blares through the packed club, but once he has us tucked in a circle booth for two, it feels like the rest of the world fades into the background.
Sitting in the middle of the table is a bottle of chardonnay but only one wine glass. Kase pours a glass and hands it to me.
“You’re not drinking?”
“I’m driving.”
“One drink won’t hurt you.”
Resting his hand on my leg, he inches his way closer to my panties. “I’m driving,” he repeats. “Hurting you is a risk I’m not willing to take.”
“That’s good to know.”
When Sexy Back fills the air, I tug on his hand. “Oh, we have to dance to Justin.”
“Oh yes, we must,” he dryly says, but the smirk on his face is enough for me to know he’s only joking.
He wraps me tightly against him. His head tipped down, his dark hungry eyes locked on mine while our bodies move to the music. My nipples tingle and a rush of desire pulls between my legs. I had no idea that dancing—if that’s what you want to call what we’re doing—could be such a turn on.
One song turns into two, and my legs start to burn. His lips twitch when he brings his mouth to my ear. “Let’s take a break.”
He guides us back to the table and hands me another glass of wine.
“I like dancing but I didn’t realize how much of a work-out it is.”
Without warning, he reaches for my neck, his mouth crashes into mine. His other hand dips between my legs. His thumb strokes over my panties. In a frenzied need for more, I crawl into his lap, settling myself over the bulge between his legs.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
I grind my pelvis into his a
nd moan, “I need you.”
Placing his hand on my waist, he makes a sound like he’s in pain. “It’s killing me not to fuck you, right here, on this table, but with you, I’m not keen on the idea of people watching us.”
With me? Meaning that’s something he’s done in the past?
He slides me off his lap, his eyes taking in everyone around us. The club is packed, and it’s not even ten o’clock, but glancing around, I don’t notice anyone staring at us.
I grab my wine, downing half the glass in one swallow.
“Get that look off your face. If you want me to fuck you in public or with an audience, we’re only a few blocks from Stella.”
My shoulders slump. “I can’t have sex there. I don’t have a membership.”
With a knowing smile, he slips his finger under my panties, finding me wet and ready. “I know the owner, remember.”
My head tilts back, resting against the booth while my legs fall open. He deliciously rubs my clit before pushing two fingers in. “Oh, fuck,” I moan gripping the side of the table.
“You like the idea of people watching, don’t you?”
My eyes dart around the room, but again, no one appears to be watching at us. “Yes. No… Maybe?”
Until very recently, exhibitionism and voyeurism were nothing more than dirty words for people with fetishes, but thanks to both Kase and Brenna, my mind is open and willing.
A loud groan rattles from my chest when he pulls his hand from under my dress. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. It appears we both have a problem that needs taken care of.”
Once we’re on our feet, we push our way through a swarm of people and outside. The sun has long set and the cool evening breeze feels sobering. “Where are we going?”
He hands me a helmet, not bothering to answer my questions.
The confidence I found from dancing with him takes a nosedive the second he pulls up in front of Stella. I wish I had more experience but the truth is, when it comes to sex, I’m naïve to what men truly desire.
Kase Of Deception Page 8