I held out as long as I could, but it didn’t take long and I was close to the edge, so close to blowing. I wanted her in so many ways, and being the dirty prick I was, there was no resisting the burning need inside me.
It was hard, torture, but I managed to pull my cock from her hungry mouth without whimpering.
“Squeeze your tits together,” I barked, unable to control what or how words came out of my mouth at that point.
Her eyes flared and she licked her lips then slowly cupped her tits, doing what I asked while giving me that fucking innocent look. Making me crazy. This couldn’t be the first time someone had come on her tits. Her rack was spectacular. Shit, whatever, I was too far gone to think. Gripping my slick cock, I started stroking from base to tip, hard and fast. I’d ask her to play with my balls, but I liked looking at her hands on her tits too much. My hips started thrusting on their own. I fucked my fist while Cassy watched—shit, so hot—and imagined it was her tight pussy gripping me instead.
My eyes lifted from those creamy mounds up to her face, and fuck, yeah, her blue eyes were on my dick, lower lip between her teeth, cheeks dark, hair wild—then they slid up to mine and locked on, and I knew right then that no one had ever done this with her before.
The asshole in me needed to hear it. “Man ever come on your perfect tits, Princess?”
She shook her head then she reached out and covered my hand with hers again. “Let me,” she whispered.
My hips snapped forward without my say-so. I liked that little rasp in her voice, that excitement in her eyes, too damned much. I took my hand away and gripped the back of the couch on either side of her head as she started jacking me with both hands. Her hold was too gentle—shit—cautious.
“I won’t break,” I forced out past dry lips. “Squeeze me tighter…that’s it.” My head dropped forward, and it felt so fucking good I struggled to keep my eyes open, but I couldn’t look away from the sight of her delicate manicured hands wrapped around my cock.
She squeezed me tighter, just the way I liked, and I groaned. “Cup my balls, Princess.”
She did as I asked. “Like this?” That look of innocence was on her fucking face again and it pushed me over the edge.
I shouted and watched my come splash on her perfect skin, slide down her gorgeous breasts. The sight satisfied the monster in me, the hungry teenager who had been half in love with her once—and the man I was now—in a way I had no hope of understanding.
As soon as I pulled my shit together, I climbed off the couch, tucked my dick back in my jeans, and went to the back to grab a towel.
She was still sitting where I left her when I walked back. I kneeled in front of her and slid the towel over her skin, cleaning her off, then I tugged the sleeves of her dress into place and dragged it back down her legs, covering her.
I didn’t want to send her away. I wanted to take her up to my apartment and eat her again, make her come so many times, in so many ways, she forgot who the fuck she was.
Which was exactly why I didn’t.
I held my hand out. She took it, and I pulled her to her feet. Her lips were slightly parted, and I couldn’t stop from leaning in and taking another taste. She stared up at me when I pulled back, and my gut tightened again.
“All right?” I asked, because, honestly, I wasn’t sure. The woman was impossible to read.
“Yes. I’m fine,” she said.
Her cheeks were still pink, and I liked the way that looked on her a whole hell of a lot. “That’s good,” I muttered. “I like watching you come, Cassandra. You gonna give that to me next time?”
The pink got darker. “I’d, um…I’d like that.”
I grabbed her shit off the counter and handed it to her. “I’ll text you with a time for our next appointment.”
A smile curled her lips and I watched her pull herself together. Her shoulders straightened. “That would be good, thank you. I’m free afternoons and evenings the rest of this week except Friday,” she said, now all professional politeness.
She’d come against my mouth just minutes ago, and now she was talking to me like she’d just made an appointment with her dentist. I reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear because I couldn’t fight the urge to touch it. Her hair had always fascinated me. She trembled slightly. She was trying to hide behind the ice queen act, but that’s all it was. The way she’d come apart for me twice now, I couldn’t believe anything else. I wanted to force her to give me more of what she just had, but I wouldn’t.
Cassy was protecting herself. I got that, I respected it, and since there was no end to this that didn’t involve me hurting her or her father in some way, perhaps that was a good thing.
I took her hand and led her out to the street to her car.
She climbed in. “Thank you for tonight,” she said, then shut the door, started her car, and pulled out.
I stood there staring after her like an asshole, watching her go until she turned a corner.
A curl of unwanted guilt rose up inside me and I shoved it back down.
Lyall had tried to destroy my family. Bull and Dane had suffered because of that bastard. It was only fair I returned the favor.
It was Lyall that hurt you, not Cassy.
I dragged my hand over my cropped hair. Christ, I felt like I was on a freight train set on a collision course and there was no way off.
This shit was about to blow up in my face and there was no way to stop it. Not now.
Chapter Eight
Cassandra
Fall in Springhaven was beautiful, and I’d spent the day walking around taking pictures. Photography was a hobby of mine—well, a little more than that. I’d sold a few of my pictures in the gallery. I probably looked like just another tourist walking around with my camera. If I wasn’t with my horses, it was one of my favorite things to do on days like this, which meant I didn’t get to do it often.
But this morning I’d gotten up extra early for my morning ride. I’d been doing that a lot lately. It was the only way I knew how to clear my head, or at least try. I hadn’t been very successful at that the last few weeks. And even after exercising the other mares, the sun hadn’t long been up when I’d finished.
Now it was warm enough to keep the chill out of the air, and I’d been enjoying myself so much I’d wandered down Pine View Lane and toward the lake. Before that I’d taken shots of several buildings. The architecture had always fascinated me.
Walking along Springhaven’s main street was like stepping back in time. Most of the stores were protected by the historical society and their brightly colored fronts, ornate wooden verandas, and the hanging baskets overflowing with bright cheerful flowers gave me a feeling of stepping back in time.
I stopped by the lake and breathed in the crisp air. It was so beautiful. Chris and I used to swim here in summer. Mom and Gran would bring us down. They’d sit under a big sun umbrella, drinking lemonade while we splashed around with our friends.
I loved this place and had hoped that one day I would come down here with my own children.
For a while I’d wanted to leave this place permanently, after Chris died, and I went to college.
I’d done a summer internship at the Met, and I’d loved every moment of it. My dream was to eventually become a curator, but positions there were highly competitive, and my father had decided it wasn’t a good idea, especially when I applied for and got an internship at the Louvre in Paris. He laid on the guilt when I told him I was going to accept it, made me feel like I was abandoning him. How, after everything I’d done, I was just going to walk away and leave him and Gran on their own.
I’d been forced to turn it down.
After that, I opened the gallery and immersed myself in building my business and my reputation—and eventually, making plans with Gran to reestablish a breeding program at the ranch.
While desperately trying to please my father, like I had been for the last ten years without success.
I wasn’t Chris. No,
I was the one who failed Dad, the reason he’d lost his only son.
But somehow I’d found happiness. My business, my horses, they became my passions. Now I couldn’t imagine losing either of them. I couldn’t imagine leaving this place.
Light glinted against rooftops on the other side of the lake. Rocktown. So close, but so different from Springhaven. What was Cal doing at that moment? Was he working? Or out enjoying the autumn sun like me?
My phone beeped and I pulled it from my bag. A knot formed in my stomach. Sometimes I wondered if my father had a sixth sense. He always managed to call or text when he was sure to ruin my day the most.
* * *
Dad: Are you free tonight? We need to talk. Time is running out.
* * *
I stared down at his message and wondered for the millionth time if my father actually hated me. Because how could you ask this of your own child? How could you expect them to sacrifice their future to ensure you continued to live in the style in which you’d become accustomed, to make sure you weren’t humiliated in front of your peers? Because that’s what it boiled down to. Pride.
His pride was more important than me. How he looked to his friends and associates was more important than me. He didn’t really care how this would affect Gran, not really. He was just using her to control me. And it had worked, because I did care. I’d do anything for her, to keep her comfortable and happy, and my father knew it.
I stared out over the rippling water.
And coming up with a solution to this nightmare was proving more than a little difficult. My meeting at the bank had been unsuccessful…and humiliating. I owned the building my gallery was in and I’d hoped I could use it as collateral, that I could borrow against it. But there wasn’t enough in it for the amount of money I needed, not even close. And my father had already borrowed against the ranch, so that was out.
My phone beeped again. I expected it to be another message from him. It wasn’t. Heat flashed through me instantly, my pulse bouncing into an erratic beat, pounding heavily at the base of my throat.
Cal.
Three days had passed since our last encounter. I’d never experienced anything in my life like what we’d shared. My face heated just thinking about it. God, the way he’d looked leaning over me, solid thighs bracketing mine, chest bare, muscles bunching, rolling with his movements. One of those big hands wrapped around the length of his cock, stroking. I’d never seen anything more beautiful or exciting in my life. Keeping my hands to myself hadn’t been an option. I’d never seen a naked man, in the flesh at least. I’d certainly never touched one—tasted one. His cock had been heavy, long, thick. The skin smooth, like raw silk over an iron bar in my hands, against my tongue. I wanted badly to know how it would feel moving inside me. I shivered, blinking down at my phone, trying to clear my head.
* * *
Cal: Today. 8.30?
* * *
I quickly typed my reply.
* * *
Me: See you then.
* * *
I shivered thinking about what might happen tonight. I’d never encountered a man like him. He wasn’t polite, or cautious, or false. He was what he was. Cal took what he wanted and made no apologies for it. And right now what he wanted was me. I’d made him lose control like he had. Me. My scars hadn’t turned him off. They didn’t seem to factor at all. Like he didn’t see them.
He didn’t treat me like I could break at any moment. He treated me like a woman, a woman he wanted, and he didn’t even attempt to hide how much.
His touch was sure, at times rough in a way I surprisingly liked. It could also be incredibly gentle. Those hands of his were so large and strong, but he had complete control over them. This shouldn’t have been surprising after seeing his drawings, but it still was. It was just another layer to the man, a man I realized I wanted to find out more about.
There might not be any point.
I quickly shut down those thoughts and typed out a reply to my father, telling him I couldn’t make it. My phone rang a minute after I sent it. I ignored him. I didn’t want to think about the decision he was trying to force me to make, and I certainly didn’t want to talk about it.
Not yet.
When I walked into Rocktown Ink later that night, I was greeted by Cal’s blue-haired brother, Dane. He was standing behind the counter, reading a magazine. His eyes lifted to me when I walked in and moved over me in an assessing way.
“He’s with a client. Should be just about finished.”
“Thanks.” I headed to the couch, and memories of what Cal and I had done there only a few nights ago flashed through my mind. My body heated, tingles skating across my shoulders, goose bumps breaking out across my skin.
“So…um,” Dane said, drawing my attention back to him.
I raised a brow in question.
“The name’s Dane. Not sure if he told you, but I’m Cal’s brother.”
“Cassandra,” I said and waited.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, look…about the other day, when you first came in. I was out of line. I acted like a dick and I’d like to apologize.”
He looked pained, and he was right, his comments had been out of line, but I had no desire to make more of it than was necessary. “That wasn’t actually an apology, you realize?” I said, because I wasn’t going to just let him off either.
“I’m sorry for being a dick,” he said.
He meant it; it was there on his face and in the tone of his voice. Regret. He’d apologized, and that was good enough for me. “I accept your apology.”
He grinned.
I smiled back.
He was an extremely good-looking guy. I could see the similarities between him and Cal. Dane was tall, though leaner than his brother, but they had the same strong features. They both had brown eyes as well, only Dane’s were lighter and had a wicked gleam to them that was very attractive.
His head tilted to the side and he winked. “So now we’re friends, how about you and me grab a drink sometime?”
As he said that, a guy walked out from the back of the shop—no, a human grizzly bear. He was huge, bigger than Cal even, and Cal was an extremely big guy. He had just as many tattoos as Cal and his brother, and he was shaking his head and looking at Dane.
“What? A guy can try, can’t he?” Dane said to the hulking bear of a man now standing at the counter.
“You’re fuckin’ trying, all right,” the guy rumbled.
I was surprised the ground didn’t shake beneath my feet when he spoke.
Another man emerged from the back room then, this one also covered in tattoos, but he was wearing a leather vest with a one percent patch on the front. I might have been from Springhaven, but I knew there was a motorcycle club a few towns over. They passed through often enough.
I watched as the huge bearded guy took his hand. They thumped each other’s backs, muttered a few words, then the biker sauntered out and across the street to the bar where there were several bikes lined up.
Dane smirked, his gaze sliding to me over at the couch, then his head tilted to the big man still standing there. “This handsome devil is my brother-cousin, Bull. We like to keep it all in the family here in Rocktown. As you can see, that shit hasn’t been kind to the guy.” He lifted his hand to his mouth and stage-whispered, “The genes mutated. Such a shame.”
Bull. Of course, this was Bull.
Bull snorted, the sound a mix between a laugh and a Lord, give me strength. He lifted one of his huge paws…um, hands, and pointed a long thick finger at Dane. “You’re barred.”
“Oh, come on! I was just yanking your chain,” Dane said, still looking highly amused with himself.
Bull flipped him the bird and walked out. We both watched him head to the bar across the street and go inside.
I looked back at Dane and his brows lifted before he tilted his head to the bar Bull had just walked into. “So that drink?”
“I think you just got barred.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I think you’d be better off asking out girls your own age.”
He barked a laugh. “How old do you think I am?”
I moved to join him at the counter, giving him a once-over. “Late teens, early twenties? Past puberty anyway.”
“I’m twenty-two. But thanks. Every man loves to be told he’s just past wet dreams and breakouts.”
I leaned against the counter, and this close, I could see it. With his dark, thick lashes and full lips, he was almost beautiful, but the strong jaw and nose, the dusting of scruff on his chin gave him the same kind of brutal masculinity that Cal had.
“I’m still too old for you. Besides, I’m sure with those big brown eyes of yours you can woo any girl you want,” I said, enjoying teasing him.
He chuckled. “Woo?”
“Wooing works. You should try it.”
“What if I wooed you? Would it work?” he said.
My grin got wider, and I opened my mouth to carry on teasing, because for the first time in a long time I was having fun.
“No,” a deep voice said from across the room. “It won’t fucking work.”
We both turned. Cal was standing at the curtained door, frowning at his brother, then his eyes slid to me and my belly flipped.
My face heated, again thinking about the last time I was there. I didn’t know what to do under that intense stare, so I waved, like a goof. “Hey.”
His lips twitched. An almost smile? I nearly swooned right there and then.
“Ahhh,” Dane said. “Now I know why you’re unaffected by my charm and good looks.”
I turned back to Dane. “Pardon?”
“Cal.” He tilted his head to his brother. “He has you under his manly spell. Why am I so damn pretty?” he said to the ceiling, then shouted again, “Why?”
Beg For You (Rocktown Ink #1) Page 8