by Sheila Grace
He didn’t hesitate. He tore the shirt open, causing buttons to pop and scatter all over the wood floor. In seconds I was completely bare. He took my breasts in his hands and pushed them together and up. When his thumbs brushed over the peaks, I gasped and braced my hands behind me on the bed.
He bent forward and took one nipple into his mouth and sucked it before scraping it roughly with his teeth, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight between my thighs. He kissed around my breast to the tender skin beneath it and then moved to draw the other nipple into his mouth. Feeling his teeth on me again, I arched toward him and gasped as I nearly came.
He pinched and sucked as his other hand skated down the center of my chest, across my belly, and between my legs. My eyes closed, and before I could even catch my breath, I felt his finger slide around my clit before dragging cruelly straight across the tender spot. My head fell back as I came immediately, sobbing my release as tears pricked in my eyes.
“That is the sweetest sound in the world.”
By the time I blinked up at him, James was standing above me, completely naked, his inked chest heaving as he grasped one of my ankles and lifted it until my leg was resting against his chest. He took the other ankle and held it against him. When he turned and kissed the inside of my calf, my breath caught.
He began touching me again. At first, just the lightest stroke, like he was playing a quiet piece on the piano. My eyes closed as he did it again and again, tapping out an uneven rhythm until I couldn’t think of anything but the pleasure I was spiraling toward. When I was right at the edge, his fingers slipped down, circling the center of me.
“I need to be inside you, Cass. I need it more than I’ve needed anything.”
I opened my eyes and flinched when I saw him gripping his length, already sheathed in a condom, as he guided it toward me. Then I felt the blunt head caressing me, sliding along the slickness between my legs. Oh god. It felt too good. I moaned. I was aching for him—but I was also terrified.
Finally, my need won over the fear.
“Please … James,” I begged. “I want you.”
Chapter 12: James
As I stared down at her—feeling my dick slide along the heat of her pussy—I had never wanted anything more in my life. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let this be her first time. Gritting my teeth, I pulled back before gently lowering one of her legs to the bed, then the other. She blinked up at me as confusion slowly replaced the lust in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I shouldn’t have.”
As I turned and started walking toward the bathroom, the sound of her stifled sob followed me from the room. Seconds later, as the cold water of the shower beat down on me, I tried to regain my senses. I had never come that close to losing control, and there was a degree of irony in the fact that it had been the sound of her begging me that had snapped me out of it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t appreciate the humor in my present state.
The moment I had seen those packages from my father, I had lost it. The fucking bastard. The one good thing I had stumbled on—the one pure thing in my life—and I could feel him grasping for it, trying to taint it. Trying to taint her.
It was a minor miracle I hadn’t thrust into her in that moment. Just the thought of it now—how close I had come to taking her—was enough to drive me out of my mind.
“Goddammit.”
I slapped the tile wall. I couldn’t stomach the thought of Cass in the same room with my father. It was a bitter irony that Ryan Bennett had most likely felt the same way about me being in proximity to Alex Reed.
I closed my eyes. Maybe I was even more like my father than I wanted to admit. Had I been seeking to corrupt and destroy the purest person I could find?
There was no reason I couldn’t have Cass, but if I had taken her a few minutes ago—I would have ruined everything. I would have infected her with the festering darkness and deceit of my father’s world.
This wasn’t exaggeration—it was the fucking truth. My father was a black hole. He had destroyed my mother, and he had tried molding me into his image … into someone dark and twisted, driven by greed and general malice toward the human race.
I couldn’t let him contaminate Cass.
I finished my tour of self-loathing and unfulfilled lust and finally turned off the water. I was feeling only slightly more in control and fractionally less enraged, but as long as Cass wasn’t in my bed looking like temptation incarnate, I was fairly certain I could control myself.
After wrapping a towel around my hips, I opened the door and walked into the bedroom. Cass was gone. I walked down the hall, checked the guest bathroom, the guest bedroom, the kitchen, the living room.
“Fuck.”
I walked back to the bedroom and quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Then I went to the back of the house and stepped into the utility room, where Janet, my efficient twice-a-week housekeeper, did laundry and stored assorted cleaning products. When I opened the door to the back yard, I found Cass sitting in a chaise longue wearing one of my dress shirts. She glanced over at me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and the green of her irises glowed with reproach.
“I didn’t feel like doing the walk of shame back to my apartment with blisters, heeled boots, and my outfit from last night—or I would have been gone by now.”
I walked over and sat on the edge of the chair and tried not to stare at her thighs. I imagined it would make my apology seem less sincere if I tried to fuck her on the lawn furniture.
“I crossed a line. I’m sorry.”
She laughed bitterly.
“A woman begs you to be her first, and you decline? Speaking of firsts—that’s gotta be a singularity for you to walk away from a begging naked woman. Apparently I’m the most easily rejected female on the—”
I reached over and snatched her from the chair. A second later, she was sitting in my lap. I grabbed her ponytail and tilted her face, kissing her hard before trailing my lips down to her jaw, then up to the spot under her ear, along her neck until she shivered in the morning heat. I pulled back.
“Then you have no idea how painful it was for me to stop.”
“Why did you?” she asked softly in a small, pained voice.
“Because I was angry and out of control. You’ve waited a long time, and I didn’t want that to be your first time. You can’t take it back. You would have regretted it … and so would I.”
She gave me a crooked smile.
“You would have regretted it?” she asked.
My jaw flexed, and I quickly lifted her from my lap and stood.
“Yes. Eventually, I would have regretted it. It wasn’t the right time.” I gestured toward the house. “Breakfast?”
“Are you making it?” she asked.
“I am at your service,” I nodded.
“Then, definitely.”
After we ate, I took her back to her apartment to shower—by herself—and collect clothes and anything else she wanted. While she was occupied, I started making arrangements. I needed to be prepared for seeing my father again, because if I didn’t anticipate the worst, my father would initiate it. I opened a text from Irving. Apparently Cass had a plane ticket to Southern California booked for the day before my father’s event. A trip to see the parents? Now that would be interesting.
When Cass walked out of the bedroom fifteen minutes later, she dropped her bag on the floor in front of the door and wound her wet hair into a bun.
“James? Are we going to …” She stopped and looked down. “Are we going to talk about that invitation that came from your father, or just ignore it?”
“As much as I would like to ignore my father, I’ve found it’s not always the best tactic. Unless, of course, you’re prepared for retaliation.”
“Retaliation? You sound like you’re talking about the head of a drug cartel, not your father.”
“My father has a lot in common with the head of a drug cartel. First and foremost, crushing his enemies. Second,
swift retaliation. Third, no mercy.”
Cass hugged her arms and shivered as she came to sit next to me on the sofa.
“He sounds like a monster.”
“Now you’ve got the idea,” I said with mock cheerfulness.
“And we’re going to go to an event he invited us to? Is that smart?”
“Smarter than not attending.”
She started chewing her lip.
“Okay. Just one small problem.”
“What might that be?”
“That’s in four days … and it’s the day after I’m supposed to be in Southern California for my stepdad’s sixtieth birthday. I can’t skip it. My mom bought me a ticket, and I promised I would come down. Yeah—I know. It’s gonna be fun. Happy Birthday—and thanks again for cutting me off and screwing me over on financial aid. But if I don’t show up, my mom will flip out. She likes to pretend we’re this perfect little family about twice a year.”
“Not a problem.”
She gave me an incredulous look.
“You really think I can get a new flight to get back in time for this event of your father’s?”
“We’ll make it back in plenty of time.”
She rose from the sofa with a blank look on her face.
“I’m sorry. Did you just say we?”
“I did. I’m looking forward to meeting Mr. and Mrs. Agnew.”
“Oh god. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cass muttered.
“Why not?”
She gave me an exasperated look.
“Are you serious? What am I supposed to tell my mom? ‘Hey, this James. He’s the thirty-year-old guy who bought me for the summer? Oh, and by the way, I’ve been working at a strip club!’ Yeah. That’ll go over well with my mom.”
“You’re an adult. You can do what you want. You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone.”
Cass raised an eyebrow.
“I could say the same about you.”
“Touché. However, I highly doubt that your mother has the motivation or the means to ruin your reputation, finances, and ability to breathe without a tube.”
She frowned and shuddered.
“I’m going to have to give you more credit for being a human being, seeing as you are the spawn of Satan and all.”
“Thank you, lovely. I will take any credit I can get from you. Shall we?” I asked as I stood and offered my hand.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to the city, if you don’t mind.”
“Really?”
“I have some things to take care of, and I thought I would schedule some appointments for you.”
“Appointments?” she asked as she followed me to the door. “Should I be worried?”
“Only if you’re opposed to spa appointments.”
Cass laughed.
“Careful. I’m going to start getting a little too used to being a kept woman.” She frowned as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “No offense, but I’m going to be extremely relieved to shed that title. It sounds about as good as gold digger if you’re a woman or cuckold if you’re a married guy.” She glanced at me. “I’m curious. Do you hook up with married women a lot?”
“No. It’s one of my rules.”
I regretted my words as soon as I spoke them.
“Rules?” She practically choked on her laughter. “No way! You are like the damn books. Let me guess. No virgins. Only one-night stands—”
“Yes.”
When I didn’t smile, she immediately stopped laughing. As soon as we reached the car, I opened the door for her and waited for her to sit. Then I got behind the wheel and began driving back toward the house. I didn’t look at her as I spoke.
“Everyone has a set of codes they live by, whether those are dictated by religion or personal choice. In terms of sex and relationships, my parameters are very specific. There’s no deep underlying drama or Freudian psychosexual early life explanation—I simply function more efficiently without the constraint of modern-day social programming, and I enjoy sex without the complications.”
Cass remained silent, and when I finally looked over at her, she was staring out the windshield.
“Isn’t that what I am, though? All complication, no sex?”
I smiled at her summary of the facts.
“Yes. But if you never break your own rules, life becomes predictable—and avoiding boredom is my most important tenet.”
“Is that why I’ve got an expiration date?” she asked.
“It is.”
I pulled into the driveway and got out. By the time I reached Cass’s side, she was out of the car.
“Well, I guess we’ll see whose code of conduct trumps whose,” she said as I took her bag from her. “Before I met you, my code was: don’t have sex with guys I’m not in love with—which has kept me sexually frustrated for three years of college and two years of low-paying jobs. You had your chance earlier today, and you blew it. If your code is—generally speaking—to avoid boredom, then maybe you’ll get bored before I give it up. Or maybe I’ll beg again if my sex drive gets the better of my brain. But don’t bet on it. Rejection is like cold water.”
I could have corrected her and pointed out that I was essentially receiving demerits for chivalry, but I didn’t need to do that. She would be in my bed soon enough, and I was smart enough to know that saying so would only put her on the defensive. Cockiness served its purpose, but only when applied appropriately.
Leaving her in the living room, I walked into the bedroom and began packing. When I returned two minutes later with a duffle and a garment bag, Cass looked up from her phone.
“We’re leaving now?”
“Yes.”
“Can we stop by Vicki’s place first? I want to make sure she’s all right.”
“Blake wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” I promised her. “He’s as good as it gets—and he’s well compensated.”
She nodded and bit her lip.
“I just texted her and didn’t get anything back. I’d just feel better if I knew she was okay after the thing with her ex.”
When I nodded, she stood and walked over to join me at the front door. At the car, I threw my bag in next to hers and opened her door for her. Then I went back for the boxes sitting in the foyer. Cass gave me a disbelieving look as I stepped into the driver’s seat.
“You’re taking those boxes with us?”
“Never look a gift horse in the mouth,” I smiled.
“Even if the gift is from Satan?”
“Especially if it’s from the Devil himself.”
It only took a few minutes to reach her friend’s apartment complex. When we reached the unit, Cass knocked, and a minute later her friend opened the door wearing a pair of microscopic shorts and a tight tank top. She put a finger to her lips as we stepped inside.
Stretched out on the sofa along the wall, Blake was lying—shirtless—with his eyes closed. When Cass’s friend hurried into the kitchen with Cass following close behind her, I smirked.
“Good to know I’m paying you to sleep.”
“I never sleep, mate,” he said with his eyes still closed.
“I take it you had a visitor last night?”
“Quite. That bloke was an orangutan.”
“Did he give you any trouble?”
Blake opened his eyes and gave me the finger.
“McDevitt, it’s me, mate. You think I had trouble? I’m quite offended.”
“Where’d your shirt disappear to?”
“Someone got blood on it,” he grinned. “Vix is giving it a wash for me.”
“Vix?”
“Bloody mystery of the universe why the sweetest of birds always runs out and finds herself the biggest wanker possible. That lad last night was full-on potty.”
“Potty? Jesus, Blake. Do you Brits speak any English these days?”
“Potty. Or as you
Yanks say, one card short of a full deck,” he said in an awful cowboy imitation.
Cass and Vicki came back from the kitchen with Vicki carrying a plate with a BLT, potato chips, and a brownie.
“You’re an angel from above, love,” Blake said as she set the plate on the coffee table.
The girl blushed and batted her big blue eyes at Blake. I gave him a look over her head, to which he shrugged and grinned.
“Are you ready?” I asked Cass.
She nodded and hurried over to her friend. They hugged.
“You reckon we should hug, too, mate?” Blake asked cheekily.
“Put a shirt on, you jackass.”
“I’ll call or text as soon as I’m back, okay?” Cass told her friend as we walked to the door.
She walked out ahead of me into the baking heat, and we had only made it a few steps before she gave me a piercing look.
“Your friend isn’t going to break Vicki’s heart, is he?”
“I’m sorry. You are talking about the young woman with the steroid-addled ape of an ex-boyfriend?”
She smirked.
“Vicki falls in love easily. Or at least she thinks it’s love. I don’t want her getting hurt again.”
“Blake is the perfect gentleman.”
At least while he’s on the job, I added silently. Cass nodded, and I opened the car door for her. Neither of us spoke, and by the time I looked over at her again, she was fast asleep. As the scorched agricultural landscape slipped by, I looked forward to getting back to the city. I wanted to be as prepared as possible for going head-to-head with my father.
Cass had been right when she had called herself a complication. She was a weak flank, a way for my father to manipulate me. He didn’t care who or what he destroyed in his quest for power.
People who led normal lives didn’t think individuals like my father were real. They thought villains like him only existed in the movies. They didn’t understand that for some people, all that mattered was more money and more power. There was no such thing as enough in my father’s world.
I couldn’t let Cass become another pawn, one more victim of his ambition. I needed her protected from his reach, and little did my father know—I had the means to achieve this. It simply required outmaneuvering the bastard.