It isn’t any big injustice; it’s just long, long overdue.
“I guess I never thought of it like that,” I say, swallowing thickly.
Has it really been that simple all along?
“Listen,” he says, his eyes shifting from mine. I watch intently, hanging on his every damn word as he looks past me down the boardwalk. “I have an idea. Something to commemorate this week.”
“Hopefully I’ll have a crown to commemorate the week,” I quip, raising an eyebrow, “or did you forget why were were here?”
“Nah, I could never forget,” he says, “but I have an idea. Plus,” he adds, throwing a look over his shoulder toward the hotel, “it looks like we have company. Let’s give them a new headline.”
Before I have time to ask what he’s thinking, he grabs me by the hand and leads me down the boardwalk. I take big strides next to him.
I feel taller. I feel bolder. I feel wanted. And I look behind us, and I feel…
“Jason, we have company,” I say.
They’re following us. It’s Cynthia, it’s a camera crew, it’s a big microphone on the end of a big rod and they’re gaining on us.
“Let’s go, baby,” he says, holding my hand tighter.
17
Jason
I think the shop is technically closed, but I shoulder through the front door and see Dylan sitting at the front desk. I quickly close the door behind us, lock it, and close the blinds.
The shop is called Big D’s, and the owner’s name precedes him. It’s right there above the entrance of the shop, lit up big and bright and there for everyone on the boardwalk to see.
“Closed,” he grunts without looking up.
Big D fits his namesake. I should know. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. He’s a fucking awesome tattoo artist, but he’s also worked with me on the road, doing security for a few tours.
“It’s me,” I say back to him with Cassie held tight on my hip, walking over to the front desk.
Big D doesn’t look up from his sketchbook, but I watch as a smile spreads across his lips.
“I haven’t seen you in a fucking minute,” he says, throwing his pencil down and standing up to shake my hand.
Big D is the kind of guy who could steal your girl, but wouldn’t. Big D is the kind of guy who drinks hard, talks hard and is really just a big, muscled teddy bear.
“Been working,” I say. “You really closed?”
“Technically,” he says. He turns his attention away from me and takes in Cassie softly, regarding her with a respectful distance before going over to the front door of his shop and pulling all the blinds closed a little bit tighter.
“I’m Cassie,” she says, sticking her hand out for him. She’s used to shaking hands with people, being what people want her to be, and she’s damn good at it, too. “Old friend of Jason’s.”
I look down at her and watch as she catches herself in the truth. She should have told a lie on purpose. Imagine that - slipping up and accidentally telling the truth. Cass looks up at me and raises her eyebrows.
“Oh, um...I mean…”
“It’s okay,” I interject, “Dylan and I go back a long time. You don’t have to keep up the ruse with him.”
“Okay,” Dylan says with a laugh, “now you’ve piqued my interest.”
We tell Dylan everything, staying by his side as he closes up his shop. We go outside and watch as he pulls the big metal grating down over the front windows where he has portraits of some of his best work on display. But the one thing he never shuts down is the glowing light over his shop, the one that proudly displays his namesake.
“I’ve done some pretty outlandish shit in my time,” he says, tugging on his chin as his eyes pass between me and Cassie, “but pretending to be engaged for publicity? I guess if it works for you, that’s cool.”
We slip back into his studio and he shuts the big storm door behind us, then follow him up to his apartment above the shop. I’ve been here before. It’s the best property on the whole damn boardwalk, and it’s some shit studio apartment. It’s got the best damn view though, unobstructed by even a lifeguard’s stand.
“You guys want anything?” he says as he pushes the door to the apartment open. “Beer? I don’t have a lot of stuff here. I mostly use this place as like a vacation spot.”
“I’ll have a beer,” Cassie says, taking a seat at the small table in Dylan’s kitchen. He hands me and her each a beer and closes the fridge with a quick swing of his hip.
I look out the big picture window and watch the rolling waves, taking a sip of my beer. I could use a cigarette; I’m a smoker, and I’m not proud of it, but I especially like smoking when I drink. I like having the chemicals coursing through my veins. I don’t want to abandon Cassie, though, even if it would be only for a few minutes. And even more, having her around is calming and exciting all at the same time. It sounds crazy to me, but she’s almost like a drug.
“Hey,” I say, “do you remember when I took you to that party when you were, what, twenty?”
“I was nineteen,” she replies, “and yes, I remember it. My brother said you were a bad influence because you allowed me to drink. And I told him it wasn’t your influence, and I told him that I actually had begged you to take me. It wasn’t your idea at all. I’m not sure if he ever really believed that, though.”
The three of us wile away the better part of a couple hours, sharing stories. It feels good. It feels good to reminisce with her, to compare notes, to contrast our experience of growing up together with Dylan’s experience of growing up alone. It’s fun, and by the time we’re on our third or fourth beer, I notice that Cassie is growing slightly restless. I can tell, because she pulls her leg up underneath her like she always does when she starts feeling nervous, like she has somewhere to be.
“Is everything alright, Cass?” I ask, putting my hand on hers softly.
“Yeah,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I just don’t know if I’ve had this much fun in a long time.”
“You aren’t tired?” I ask.
“I’ve been tired for the past four years,” she replies, her bright blue eyes are sleepy and ringed with red. I think it’s from all the laughing we’ve been doing, or maybe we’re just getting a little bit drunk. “I’ve been on the pageant circuit too long. I’m too old for this shit.”
She surprises me with that. I thought she loved it. I thought she’d do anything to save her career.
“Life on the road is hard,” Dylan say to Cassie, cocking his chin toward her. “You don’t have to say that to me twice. Me and Jason have been on tour together before. You don’t get to have your own schedule. You’re at the goddamn whim of someone else. Most of the time, you don’t even know who is in charge. You just have to go along with whatever shit’s thrown at you.”
“That’s what I like about it,” Cassie says, feigning excitement. “But that’s also what fucking sucks about it.”
Big D scoops our empty beer bottles off the table and walks over to the sink to put them in there, flashing Cassie a sympathetic look.
“I know you guys came by trying to get tattoos. Sleep on it. Come back in a couple days and tell me what you want.”
“I’d really like that,” Cassie says, looking over at me.
It’s been a long day. It’s time to take this girl home.
We say goodbye to Dylan and make our way back onto the boardwalk. We can hardly keep our hands off each other.
“Jason,” Cassie breathes as we take each other’s hands and make our way back to the hotel, “what would you do if we could just be open with each other?”
“What are you talking about, Cass?” I ask. I spin her toward me in the thick, late moonlight and bring my arms around her little waist. “I am being open with you. As open as I fucking know how to be.”
But there is still something I should tell her.
“No,” she says, her eyes grazing over my face, searching it for something. An answer, a question, I don’t know wh
at, but she looks so fucking beautiful. I want to take her away from here for good. I want to bring her back to our hometown and make her mine forever.
And I’m not surprising myself. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.
“Not like that,” she continues, “I told you we have to be careful about the pageant, and you said that if you weren’t being careful, I’d know it. So what would you do right now if we didn’t have to be careful?”
I feel my cock stir at her words as I watch her lick her lips, making me grow hard in an instant.
“If we didn’t have to be careful, I’d fuck you right here,” I say softly, bending down to whisper in her ear, feeling her soften at my touch.
“I’m tired of being careful,” she says, pressing her little body into mine.
“If you let me, I’d wreck you,” I reply. “But you told me we can’t. You told me we have to cool down. But you’re fucking hot for me, aren’t you Cass?”
“Yes,” she moans softly. I watch as her pink lips part, her eyebrows coming together in pained pleasure, the agony of not getting exactly what she wants. Because I know she wants me to pull her little panties to the side and take her right now. She’s dripping for me, I can tell by the look on her face.
“You want me to wreck you, baby?” I ask.
Fuck it. I watch her eyes as I slide my hand up her inner thigh. Suddenly I remember this dress. She wore this dress at her high school graduation, and I told her I liked it. She looked hot in it, with her full tits and ass flaring out from a tiny little waist, and I burned for her as I watched her flirt with all the fucking boys at her graduation party.
“What does that mean?” she asks before I crush my lips against hers. Instead of telling her, I show her by going under her panties with my hungry fingers, finding her clit right away and strumming at her, rubbing wildly. She is so fucking soaked and ready for me, it’s like she wants me to ram myself into her right here.
“Wait,” she says, pulling her lips away from me. Her eyes dart down the boardwalk and she pulls away from me completely, and I allow her body to fall away from mine. “We have company again.”
18
Cassie
I’m drunk on him.
Okay, I’m also drunk on alcohol. How could I not be? His friend gave us a few beers, and yeah, I guess I could have said I don’t drink. But first of all, that would be a lie. Second of all, even if I didn’t drink, it wouldn’t matter. I wanted to drink.
It takes me back. It makes me remember the forbidden. It makes me remember what it was like to want Jason before I knew he wanted me back.
Wreck me.
He said he’d wreck me.
I can’t take this anymore. I just want to tell him how I really feel.
And I’m about to, when, out of the corner of my stupid eye, I spy someone walking down the boardwalk toward us.
I’ve always been somewhat suspicious. Some might even call me paranoid. But right now, with those alcohol bubbles...bubbling through my veins, I think I’m just being careful, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
I really fucking want to know what he meant when he said he’d wreck me. But for now…
“Jason,” I say, “there’s someone over there.”
He looks over his shoulder, his big chest flexing and making me bite the corner of my lip. When he looks back at me and his eyes meet mine, he shakes his head.
“I think it’s just some random person,” he says. He’s not amused. He doesn’t want to stop kissing me. I don’t want him to stop kissing me, either.
But…
“Jason, we have to be careful,” I say, grabbing his hands.
And I start dragging him to the sand. I feel like this isn’t my greatest moment. It’s not the most graceful I’ve ever been, but it’s what feels right right now.
Fuck what’s correct. I wanna do what feels right.
And even though I told him we have to be careful, this is not exactly us being careful.
“Cassie,” Jacob laughs, “where are we going?”
“You tell me,” I say, “you tell me. You already know.”
“Cassie, this whole crazy chick thing is hot, but you’re making no sense.”
We make our way to the edge of the boardwalk. I feel like I’m on the precipice of something. It’s small, and it’s personal. It might even be insignificant, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m with Jason. He makes everything small and insignificant feel big and important. A chord strummed on the strings of a guitar, a conversation about a shared memory of a party I haven’t thought about in years - it’s all here, and it’s all in the forefront of my mind as I slip my beauty queen heels off and take them in my hands.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing his hand again and pulling him onto the sand.
Jason Anderson. You’re the guy they told me about. You’re the guy they told me not to get involved with. Well, how did they know I wanted you to begin with? Was it the slight change in my voice when I said your name? Was it the slight change in my handwriting when I wrote out a birthday card to you?
“I spilled a lot of ink over you, Jason Anderson,” I shout.
“Cassie,” he says, tumbling across the sand toward of the edge of the water with me, “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
I do something I never thought possible - I jump up on him and throw myself around him, wrapping my arms around his big, broad chest and my legs around his hips. I always thought this to be an impossible feat, something only done by skinny girls in movies that make no sense and TV shows about girls looking for love.
But he catches me, he takes my body in his hands like I’m supposed to be jumping all over him on the beach in the near-black darkness.
He takes my ass in his hands and pulls me so damn close to him that I can’t feel where I end and he begins. His fingers play against my skin in an infuriatingly, frustratingly sexy way. I just want him to go farther. I want what he teases me with.
“You said you’d wreck me,” I say, my voice coming out like I’m begging. I’m just stating a fact, but it feels like something more.
“I’d wreck you if you ever gave me a chance,” he says, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’d wreck you if you ever let me in.”
“I am, Jason,” I plead, “you can do whatever you want.”
It feels naughty to beg him like this. Worse than that, even. Slutty, but in a good way. In a way that’s only for him.
It feels good to be with Jason Anderson, even though he’s supposed to be bad for me.
“I don’t know if you’re ever gonna let me in,” he says, taking my chin in his hand. I feel my heart heat and my chest swell at his words. “You’re never gonna let me really get in there.”
“What do you mean?” I plead, my words harder than I want them to be.
I feel the night tilt on its axis. It was one thing up until this moment, and now it’s something else. Something heavier, and I don’t know exactly why.
“You know what I mean,” Jason says, shaking his head, pushing my hair away from my face. My signature long blonde locks are sticking to the back of my neck in the heavy humidity of this night.
“Please,” I say, “don’t do that.”
He puts me down and I feel my feet hit the sand uneasily. I expect him to walk away, and my heart feels heavy at the thought, but instead he takes my face in his hands and kisses me again.
Before I know what’s happening, my world tilts on its axis again and Jason is laying me down on the sand, pushing my dress up to my hips.
I exhale shakily, deeply, heavily into the thick air as he moves down my body, his hands roaming against my waist and hips.
I am already soaking wet for him. I smile to myself, because this is typical for us. If anything could be predicted in the universe, any law of physics, it would be that I get wet around Jason.
He puts his hand around the thin fabric covering my pussy and pulls it to the side, thrusting his tongue against my clit.
; “Fuck, Jason,” I groan, bending my knees as he gets between my legs.
I am worried about sand, but I can’t stop him. I can’t stop myself. He glides his tongue over my clit and my puffy pussy lips, wet and ready for him, and spreads me open with his eager fingers.
“You want to know what it would mean to wreck you?” he growls, his cool breath hitting me.
“Yes,” I moan, pushing my fingers through his hair. “Yes, I want to know. Please, Jason.”
He moves up my body, and I feel him shift away from me as he starts to go into his pocket.
“No,” I say, “no. I mean...not unless…”
“No,” he says, “I’m good. You on the pill?”
“Yes,” I groan, my head falling back against the soft but firm white sand. “I’m on the pill.”
I feel Jason’s chest thrum as he crashes against me, reaching down to spread my lips apart and guide his thick cock between my legs. He pushes into me quickly, thrusting forward in one big, swift push.
I feel my eyes close hard when I feel him slicing into me, silky and smooth and soft but that thick hardness stretching me out until I feel like I don’t know if I can take it.
But when I’m about to say something, he pushes into me even deeper, slapping against me.
“This is what wrecking you is,” he says, biting my neck, sliding a hand behind my back, “this is what making you mine is.”
I thrust my hips up to meet his, our bodies moving together perfectly. There is nothing between us, no one around, even though we are completely out in the open and vulnerable to anyone who could come by.
Still, I know no one would. And Jason slams into me over and over, kissing my face and my neck, making me feel so damn wanted.
Second Chance Bride: A Fake Fiancee Romance Page 11