Cash

by Cassia Leo

  It’s probably a bad idea to go to a nightclub with the intent of hate-fucking a girl just to piss off her brother. But after the shit Leo Osborne pulled the other day at the Billionaire Club, that motherfucker has it coming. He needs to be put in his place. Plus, I doubt there’s anything that can make me forget Kara right now better than a tight pussy wrapped around my cock.

  “I’ll meet you there at eleven,” I say, then I hang up without giving Dean a chance to respond.

  The music in the club is so loud, it thumps inside my chest like a second heartbeat, I can hardly think much less ask where to find Misty Osborne. I pass at least a dozen supermodel lookalikes who eye-fuck the shit out of me, but I’m on a mission tonight. I don’t want to fuck just any girl. I need more of a challenge tonight. I need to fuck the one girl who’ll get me the most satisfaction. Screwing Misty Osborne will be a big fuck-you to my dad, Leo Osborne, and Kara Langley.

  “You need a drink!” Dean shouts at me, nodding to the walkway on our right, which leads up to the main bar area.

  I shake my head. “Not drinking tonight. I need a clear head.”

  I don’t say it aloud, but I want to make sure I feel everything tonight. I want to burn the fiery memory of this experience into my mind, so I can call upon that memory any time I get the urge to give up sex for a woman I hardly know. So, when I go back to work tomorrow, and I’m sitting at a table in an overpriced restaurant on a lush green golf course, listening to my coworkers drone on about maximizing profits, my mind can wander to the feeling of my cock prodding the back of Misty’s throat, and Leo’s face when he finds out I fucked his sister, and Kara’s face… I can’t think about Kara’s face. I can’t think about her, period.

  Maybe I should get drunk.

  Five vodka tonics and one hour later, I find Misty on the dance floor, writhing against a Jersey Shore wannabe with a fake tan and hoop earrings. How the fuck do guys like that get anyone to take them seriously?

  Between us is a swarm of bodies packed tightly together, moving to the hard hitting dub-step music of Skrillex and Diplo. I make eye contact with a few fuckable girls as I make my way through the crowd, flashing them a brief blazing glance. The way their eyes focus on me as I brush past them, completely ignoring their inferior dance partners, I can practically hear them creaming their panties.

  I reach Misty and she immediately stops dancing when she sees me. She reaches up to lift her dark hair off her neck to fan herself. My eyes are locked on her as I reach up and curl my fist around her hair, tugging gently to lean her head back. The lights are flashing, the music thumping, my pulse quickening, and somewhere in the background I can faintly hear the walking spray-tan advertisement protesting as I pull her head sideways, exposing her neck. Her mouth falls open in a soft sigh of ecstasy as I lean over and brush my lips over her heated skin.

  There’s a scuffle off to the right, probably Dean disposing with her dance partner. I kiss her neck, savoring the faint taste of salt on her flesh. Her hand lands on the bulge in my slacks, massaging my cock until I’m painfully erect. Loosening my grip on her hair, I move my hand to the top of her head and push her down slowly until she’s on her knees in front of me.

  I ignore the shocked looks around us, and the voice in my head telling me this is going to be on the front page of TMZ in a few hours. Nothing wrong with showing off your cock once in a while when you’re as well-endowed as I am.

  Her blue eyes are locked on mine as she unzips me, but I quickly push her away as cameras start flashing. Suddenly, there’s more commotion behind me and off to the right. Someone grabs my arm and yanks me backward. It’s Dean. He’s yelling something at me, but I can’t hear him. As soon as he glances over his shoulder, I realize what he’s saying. Leo Osborne is making his way toward us through the crowd.

  I swiftly zip up before Osborne tries to take his first swipe at me. His fist barely misses my cheekbone, giving me enough time to land a hard upper-cut to his abdomen. It takes four security guards to break us up and haul us off the dance floor to the security room.

  Luckily, since Osborne was the first to take a swipe at me this time, he can’t press charges. And the casino decides not to press charges against me, probably because they know tonight’s stunt will only serve to draw more attention to the club.

  All publicity is good publicity.

  As Dean and I walk through the casino toward the exit, Dean starts laughing uncontrollably. “I can’t fucking believe you almost got a beej from Misty Osborne in the middle of XS. Can I be you when I grow up? Seriously, did you see the look on Osborne’s face? That was fucking epic!”

  I chuckle half-heartedly as I realize how after all that, I still can’t stop thinking about Kara. I check my phone for missed calls or texts, but there’s nothing.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Dean hands his check to the valet and we step aside to wait for them to bring his car. “You want to hit up Tao. I think Calvin Harris is there tonight. Maybe you can get his girlfriend to finish you off.”

  I laugh along with him, though I don’t find the joke one bit funny. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna catch a cab home. I’ll catch up with you at work,” I say, flagging down the next cab that passes us. “Later, man.”

  I slide into the backseat and tell the driver to head east on Flamingo. “I’ll get you the address in a minute.”

  I open up my email app and search for the message I received from the private investigator I hired to look into Kara. The background check attached to the email has her home address on it. I enter the address into Google Maps and spout off the directions to the cab driver.

  Twelve minutes later, he pulls up into a tract of rundown stucco houses with clay tile roofs, all basically the same model in different colors. But most of them look as if they haven’t been repainted in twenty years. Only one or two houses on each block have grass growing in the lawn. The rest have the typical water-saving wood chips or gravel you commonly see in Vegas.

  The driver pulls up in front of a small peach-colored house, where Kara’s SUV and Dex’s Mercedes are parked in the driveway.

  “Keep the meter running,” I tell the cab driver. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  I text Dex as I exit the cab. I need to give him a heads up before I knock on the door, so he doesn’t think I’m someone else who’s here to attack Kara. Then, I text her.

  Me: I’m outside your front door.

  Kara: Go home.

  Me: Open the door or I’m ringing the doorbell.

  Kara: Go ahead. It doesn’t work.

  Me: I’ll knock on the door.

  Kara: And Dex will kick your ass. He likes me better than you.

  Me: My fist is hovering over your front door. I’m knocking in 3, 2…

  The door swings inward and the sight of her furious face makes me happier than I’ve felt in ages. “Are you crazy?” she whispers angrily. “What are you doing here? We’re not supposed to be seen together!”

  I pause a moment to take in the way she looks: her messy ponytail, her tank top and pajama bottoms as thin and worn-through as the layer of cracking stucco on her house. She’s as worn down as a girl her age can be, yet she’s stunning. Absolutely fucking beautiful.

  “Kara, it’s 1:30 in the morning. There’s nobody out here.”

  “You don’t know that.” She looks up and down the street nervously. “What do you want?”

  “I want to apologize for—”

  She shushes me as a pair of headlights approaches at the far end of the street. “Hurry. Get inside, but you have to be quiet. My dad’s asleep.”

  She leads me through the door and closes it softly behind me. The room is dark with a dim golden glow shining through the front window from the streetlamp outside. Even with the faint lighting, I can see the sleeping man lying in the hospital bed in the middle of the living area is hardly a man at all. He’s a wisp of a human, the thin blue blanket crumpled around his slight frame.

  Is this my fault? Did I do tha
t to him?

  “Hey, boss.”

  I startle slightly at the deep whisper of Dex’s voice, but I can see his smile through the murky darkness. “Hey, man,” I whisper barely loud enough for myself to hear.

  “Come with me,” Dex replies, nodding toward a hallway on my right.

  It isn’t until then that I notice Kara is gone. She must have left the room while I was busy gawking at her father. I follow Dex into the dark corridor and into a bedroom, where Kara is sitting on the edge of a bed covered in crisp white linens.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she says, as Dex closes the door on his way out.

  I step forward and take a seat at the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry I hurt you. And I’m even more sorry I didn’t trust you. I’ve just… I’ve been burned so many times, and not just by women. I’ve sabotaged myself more times than I can count. I can’t trust my own judgment. But that’s not your fault.”

  She sighs and hangs her head as she stares at her hands in her lap. “I should have told you about my dad, but the truth is… I did sleep with you that first night to try to fix the situation with my dad’s medical bills.” She looks up and there’s a fierce look in her eyes. “But that’s not why I agreed to the bet.”

  “Why did you?”

  She looks down at her hands again. “I can’t talk about it.”

  I scoot closer to her, but she doesn’t look up at me. “Kara, I want you to know that I fought extremely hard against those layoffs. And when I go back to work on Monday, I’m going to get everything fixed with your dad. I’ll make the company fix his employee record so it shows he was laid off. And I’ll have them reinstate his health care benefits. Fuck, I’ll pay his medical bills myself if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

  She swipes her hand across her cheek to wipe away a tear. “Thank you, but I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You’re not asking me for anything,” I say, reaching up to brush a tear off her chin. “You’re the first person in a long time who hasn’t asked me for something.”

  Our eyes lock for brief a moment, then she turns away. “You should probably go.”

  I nod as I stand from the bed, but I stop and turn around when I reach the door. “I know this is a long-shot, but I have to ask. Will you be coming by after your shift?”

  She looks at me for a while as she ponders this, then, to my surprise, she nods. “I’ll be there.”

  I smile and let out a sigh of relief. “Good-night, Kara.”

  As I tread lightly through the dark corridor, I can’t help but wonder why she’s still going through with the bet if I just agreed to pay off her father’s medical bills. I fully expected her to back out of the bet now that she got what she wanted. Is it crazy to believe she’s doing this for more than money?

  I shake off the thought as I exit the front door. I can’t allow myself to think that way. Kara doesn’t want to be in a serious committed relationship any more than I do. And I definitely don’t want to be in a committed relationship.

  Do I?

  No, I definitely don’t.

  I shake my head at these crazy thoughts as I cross the street toward the cab, which is still running with its lights on. As I reach for the door handle, I notice a guy sitting in a car parked along the curb five houses away. The moment our eyes lock, he turns on his car and makes a U-turn out of the street. I try to get the license plate, but I’m only able to see the first four digits before he turns the corner: 7921.

  Must be a reporter, I assure myself. Then I remember the attack on Kara’s house a few days ago and the fact that she can’t tell me why she agreed to the bet. Is it possible someone else is after Kara for money?

  I don’t know the answer to that question, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.

  12

  Kara

  When I arrive at the penthouse, the raw memory of Cash’s accusations the other night comes back to me. I consider turning around and going home, but I think I’m far beyond the point of no return now. The sharp soreness in my thigh is a constant reminder of what will happen if I don’t pay Benny soon.

  I place my thumb on the fingerprint scanner and the soft click of the door unlocking is warm and welcoming. When I enter, I pass through the foyer and find Cash standing near the wall of windows, his back to me as he gazes at the dazzling lights of the Strip. He’s wearing slacks and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up. Even from behind, he manages to look gorgeous. The man has an ass that even a girl could envy.

  “You’re late,” he says, his gaze still focused out the window.

  “I had a sit down with Mick after my shift,” I reply, making my way across the plush wool rug in the center of the living room. “He wanted to know if I was in some kind of trouble.”

  He glances over his shoulder at me as I lay my purse on the coffee table and walk over to join him. “Are you… in trouble?”

  “I don’t know, am I?”

  He shakes his head. “Honesty, Kara. It’s all I require.”

  “I seem to remember you saying something about doing with me as you please,” I reply with a smirk.

  He doesn’t appear amused. “How’s your leg?”

  I sigh. “It’s been better.”

  He turns around and places his hand on the small of my back. “You should lie down. Come.”

  I chuckle. “I’m fine. I’m supposed to stand up and walk around at least once every hour.”

  Finally, he smiles. “Then, you can spend the next hour lying down.”

  I roll my eyes, but I follow without protest. I don’t know why or how this is possible, but I trust Cash. I know he won’t push me beyond my limits. Maybe it’s because I know how deeply he regrets, even blames himself for, what happened to Vanessa. Or maybe I’m just blinded by lust and my need to be touched by him. Either way, something inside me is telling me to trust him, and this both scares me and thrills me.

  His movements are fluid and commanding as he directs me to lie down on his bed where I woke up next to him eight days ago. So much has changed in little more than a week, yet I still feel the same heightened sense of anticipation. My stomach flutters as he casts a seductive glare at me over his shoulder as he reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand.

  “Lie down on your belly,” he says, pulling a small bottle of something out of the drawer.

  Holy shit. Is that a bottle of lube?

  He smiles as he watches me tentatively get on the bed, continually glancing at the bottle in his hand. “Relax, Kara. It’s massage oil.”

  I let out a sigh of relief as I lie down on my belly, laying the side of my face on the pillow so I’m facing him. “I knew that,” I reply.

  He shakes his head as he unbuttons his shirt, peels it off, and tosses it onto a chair in the corner, then takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to undress you gently. Let me know if you feel any discomfort.”

  “I can do it,” I say, pushing up onto my elbows, but he shakes his head again and I lie back down.

  “You will do nothing tonight,” he says, brushing my hair aside to expose the back of my neck. “Tonight is our second official ‘date’ as an engaged couple. And I’m going to spend it getting to know every inch of you.” He softly pinches my earlobe and rubs his thumb over it, a small gesture that instantly relaxes me. “Your ears are pierced. Why don’t you wear earrings?”

  I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of his skin on mine as he traces his fingertips around the back of my ear. “I’m allergic to the kinds of earrings I can afford, so I don’t bother,” I reply, my voice barely louder than a whisper as my body sinks in a deep state of relaxation.

  “I’ll buy you some earrings,” he says as his fingers slide through my hair, sending a chill over my skin.

  I chuckle softly. “You haven’t even bought me an engagement ring.”

  "Oh, I'll get to that later," he replies, as he pours a pool of oil in the center of my back.

  He rubs the oil gently over my enti
re back, and I close my eyes as the stiffness in my muscles melts away. His touch is firm enough to relieve the tension, but soft enough to feel like he’s teasing me. As his hands glide over my shoulders, brushing my hair to the side, he leans over and places a lingering kiss on my nape. My breath quickens as his fingers slides down my spine, his hand coming to rest on the small of my back.

  He trickles some more oil onto my cheeks and smoothes the silky liquid over my bottom. “You have the ass of a goddess,” he murmurs as his hand glides over my skin, his finger slipping into my crease and massaging me gently. “If you weren’t hurt, I’d ride this ass into the sunset.”

  I issue a sharp intake of breath as his hand slides down to the back of my uninjured thigh. “I’m not that hurt,” I protest.

  He chuckles and he gently kneads the tension in my good leg, then moves back to my ass. “Dirty girl,” he snarls, as he slips his hand between my thighs and massages my mound. “Do you want me to ride you, baby? I can fuck you gentle.”

  “Oh, God,” I gasp as his finger slides between my folds and finds my clit. “Please fuck me.”

  His hands glides upward, stopping at my the puckered opening to massage my entrance. “Look at you writhe,” he says as my fist closes around the pillow. “Do you like that?”

  I nod adamantly, unable to speak as the pleasure seems to override all my bodily functions. He slides his finger farther inside and I gasp as my entire body spasms. The pain in the back of my thigh feels icy compared to the hot orgasm building between my legs.

  He leans down and kisses my shoulder as he swirls his finger around to stroke my entrance. “Breathe, Kara,” he growls in my ear, and I can hear the sound of his zipper opening as he carefully mounts me. “Breathe, baby.”