Bayview Heights Trilogy (24 page)

“Thanks. I’d go out, but I think I should
stay here in case he changes his mind and shows up.”

Smiling, Seth said, “You’re not in this
alone, Cassie. Neither is he. I’ll be in touch.”

An hour later, Seth called. He hadn’t found
Mitch. Promising to call back, he told her everything would be all
right.

Cassie sank onto the couch, unable to block
out the horror revealed that morning. She took in deep breaths,
trying to get a grip. The child blown apart before his eyes...Mitch
going wild...his stone-faced reluctance to get involved. No wonder
he was so controlled, so in need of rules and regimens.

The bell rang again, startling her out of her
ruminations. Again she flew to the door, dragging it open
hopefully.

And there he stood. His face was
wind-whipped, his eyes wide.. He stared at her, his hands stuck in
the pockets of his bomber jacket. “I couldn’t stay away. I tried. I
drove all over, then it got too bad on the roads. I was heading
home...” He scanned her house. “I ended up here instead.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, she drew him inside
and closed the door on the bitter, frigid air. She turned and
watched him, thanking God he’d come.

He paced. “I shouldn’t have come. I don’t
know why I did.” He stopped abruptly and faced her. “I want, I
need...something.”

Slowly, Cassie crossed to him; she encircled
his neck with her arms and pulled him close. He was cold and tense
and, she knew, hurting, so she molded her body to him. “I’ll give
you whatever you need, Mitch.”

Stiffening, he pushed her away. “No, no,
don’t say that.” Then he yanked her back to him and buried his lips
in her hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What I’m saying. I—”

The phone rang. Cassie whispered, “I’ve got
to answer that.” She told him about calling Kurt, and how Seth was
looking for him. He followed her into the living room while she
answered it; Cassie assured Seth that Mitch was all right and
thanked him for his help. All the while, Mitch paced in front of
the fireplace. She phoned Kurt, too, and told him Mitch was with
her. Holding her hand over the mouthpiece, she said, “Do you want
to talk to him?”

Mitch shook his head, then said, “I’d
better.” He took the phone from her. “Yeah, I’m all right. No, no,
you don’t have to do that. It’s rotten weather, anyway.” He turned
and studied Cassie. “Yes, I’ll stay here.” She saw him grip the
receiver. “Yeah, I love you, too.” He barely got the last words
out.

Setting the phone down, he said, “I shouldn’t
be here.”

“You told Kurt you’d stay.”

“He’s worried.”

“A lot of people care about you.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” he repeated.

“Why?”

“I have nothing to give you, Cassie.”

“Then let me give to you.”

His emotions flared, skidding out of control
again. “I won’t be satisfied with a back rub tonight.”

Her eyes never left his. “All right.”
Unbuttoning her sweater with steady hands, she crossed to him. By
the time she reached him, the front was undone, her lacy bra
peeking out.

His eyes riveted on it, then locked on hers.
“I don’t want a mercy fuck.”

She pressed two fingers against his lips.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He frowned.

“I’ve wanted this for weeks,” she told him,
molding her lower body against him. “So have you. We’ve been
dancing around it because we’re both wary.” She reached up and
twined her arms around him again. “I’m sick of the caution.” She
brushed her lips against his. “Make love to me, Mitch.”

His hands went to her waist. They flexed
several times there. They pulled her close. “If I do...I’m going to
want you all night, Cassie.”

She shivered involuntarily, then whispered in
his ear, “I’ve never been wanted all night before.”

Holding her close, he plunged his hand in her
hair. He kissed her deeply, then led her toward the fire.

Snagging the afghan from the couch, he tossed
it on the floor. Two big, fat pillows followed it. Kicking off his
shoes, he stepped onto the afghan and pulled her with him. The
firelight flickered on his face, softening the harsh planes of his
jaw. Reaching up, she ran her palm over it. It was sandpapery.

“My beard’s rough. I’ll hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me that easily.”

His eyes on hers, he smoothed his hands down
her arms, then rubbed his knuckles up and down in the opening of
the sweater. They scraped the skin of her stomach and chest.

“So soft, yet so tough. You are a study in
contradictions.”

Her hands gripped his shoulders, and she
closed her eyes to savor his touch and his words. Dizzying currents
of pleasure shot through her at the simple caress. “I love it when
you touch me.”

His hand clenched on her waist. “Cass, don’t
say that kind of thing. I’m trying to control myself.”

On her tiptoes, she breathed into his ear, “I
want your uncensored response.”

He held her even tighter. “You don’t. I can
be an animal.”

“I don’t care. All of it makes you the
special man you are. I want all of you, Mitch.”

His arms banded around her with stunning
force. He dragged the sweater off her shoulders. Drawing back,
looking down at the black, demi-cup bra she wore, he said, “Oh,
God.”

She looked down too. His big hands closing
over her breasts made her breath catch in her throat.

“Hurt?”

“No. It feels wonderful.”

Slowly, she inched her hand down to his
waist. His breath hitched. “These chinos look so sexy on you.” She
pressed her palm against his fly. “I want to feel you, see you. I
want you inside me.”

Suddenly, he closed his eyes. “Oh, damn. I
don’t have anything with me. Any protection.”

She chuckled. “Forty-six-year-old men don’t
carry rubbers in their wallets or their glove compartments?”

“Not this forty-six-year-old man,” he said
against her hair. She could smell the outdoors mixed with his clean
male scent. “There are other ways, of course, but I wanted...” His
hand stroking up and down her back almost robbed her of
thought.

“It’s okay,” she finally said. She slipped
out of his arms, darted across the room, down the hall, into the
bathroom. She returned with a box of condoms.

He scowled. “I’m not sure I like your having
these on hand.”

She chuckled again. “Zoe bought them for
me.”

“Zoe?”

“She teaches a health class to the At-Risk
kids. She’s vigilant about taking precautions—she watches over me.”
Feeling suddenly shy, she dropped the box onto the floor and
burrowed back into his arms. “I haven’t used that many, Mitch. I
haven’t needed them.”

His heartbeat picked up speed. “I haven’t
needed many, either. And I’m sorry about jumping to conclusions.
I’m feeling so raw right now, I’m not thinking straight.”

“If it helps, I’m feeling pretty raw
myself.”

He planted a wet kiss on her shoulder. “It
helps.”

He fondled her backside through her jeans,
then gripped her tightly. Tension came into his body— but it was
tension of another kind. “No more talk,” he said, caressing her. He
slid his hands around and pulled hard at the snap on her pants. As
he brushed them down her legs, he bent on one knee, disposing of
her jeans and her socks. He stayed down and buried his face in her
stomach, just above the lacy top of her panties. He outlined their
black band with little kisses. When he finished, he pulled the
panties off with more haste. Giving her bare middle one last kiss,
he stood and fumbled with her bra, his hands unsteady. She laid her
face against his chest. His heart thrummed. Reaching down, she
pulled at the hem of his sweater and drew it over his head. Her own
heartbeat quickening, she yanked at the buttons on his shirt. He
helped her with shaky hands. She licked the hair-roughened skin of
his chest, his nipples, ran her palms—somewhat frantically—all over
him. His breathing became very fast. When she slid her fingertips
inside the waistband of his pants, his body jolted forward.

“Take them off,” he said harshly.

Cassie smiled against his chest and caressed
his buttocks.

He drew back. Blazing eyes watched her as he
tore at the snap and kicked off his socks, pants and underwear. He
pulled her close before she got to look her fill, then dragged her
down to the floor and covered her body with his. “I won’t be able
to wait long,” he said in between kisses on her neck and shoulder.
His mouth moved down to cover an aching nipple. Cassie sucked in
her breath and arched into him. He slid his hand between their
bodies, tangling his fingers in her wet curls. “Mmm, Cass...”

“I don’t want to wait, either.”

He fumbled on the blanket, drawing back to
rip open a packet and roll on the condom. Then he covered her again
and reclaimed her mouth. “You feel so good, too good.”

“Mitch...” He suckled her again, placed his
hand between her thighs and palmed her. “Mitch...”

“Wrap your legs around me.”

Blindly, she did as he instructed.

He positioned himself and tried to ease into
her. Her hips bucked and his restraint broke. His thrust was hard
and strong and forceful.

“Oh, Cass, you feel so...oh, God.”

“Mitch.”

He stroked her, grazed her all over inside,
then thrust mindlessly, recklessly. It started fast for her and was
upon her in an instant. Lights burst beneath her closed lids. Every
muscle strained toward him, her heart hammering in her chest. She
came up slightly off the floor and clutched his shoulders, digging
her nails into him, “Oh...oh...” She moaned, groaned into his skin.
Then she was flooded with sensation and pleasure and feeling that
increased and burst, then increased again and finally exploded. She
couldn’t breathe in enough air as she cried out his name, over and
over and over.

Cassie’s explosion snapped the last vestige
of Mitch’s control. She was so tight and wet. He wanted to prolong
the sensation, but he felt himself going over, and he couldn’t stop
it. Rockets went off in his head, and his body quivered as she
spasmed around him. All sensation focused on that one spot where
their bodies joined. He felt himself grow harder, bigger, and he
pushed and pushed and pushed until he was so deep inside her he
couldn’t stand it. Then everything went black, except for the burst
of lightning-like pleasure that shot to every part of his body at
once. He was electrified by her, heedlessly seeking the currents
that jolted between them.

Unable to stop himself, he collapsed on her.
He knew he outweighed her by more than fifty pounds, but an
earthquake couldn’t have made him move at that point. Slowly, he
became aware of several things about her: her breathing was ragged,
her body slick against his. Eventually, when he finally could, he
raised himself up on his elbows. Her eyes were closed, her hair wet
around her face, which was sheened with sweat. He watched her chest
heave. And for one primitive moment, he was overcome with pure
masculine power: that he had destroyed this strong, vibrant woman’s
control, that he had shattered every defense she had. He couldn’t
remember all of it, but he did know she’d come apart completely and
splintered around him.

Then the tenderness came, at odds with the
sense of victory he’d felt. With stunning intensity, he wanted to
protect her forever, keep all harm from her, shield her from any
hurt. The juxtaposition of the two equally potent feelings made his
head spin.

He felt her hands in his hair. “Mitch.” Her
voice was hoarse.

It took courage to look into her eyes. They
were shining with unabashed surrender. “I never felt like that
before. It’s such a cliché, but I never realized how I’d held back
in everything.”

“Not with me,” he said harshly, feeling
displeasure at the implication that any other man had had her.

“No, not with you.” She swallowed hard. “It’s
scary.”

Did she realize what she was doing, what
power she was giving him over her? Where had all her armor gone? He
wanted to warn her not to give him so much, and at the same time he
wanted to get down on his knees and thank her for it. He smiled
grimly at the paradox.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because I feel so gentle and tender toward
you one minute, then I want ravish you the next.” He scowled. “I
feel more comfortable with the ravishing part.”

“I know what you mean. Me, too.”

He kissed her nose. “We’re a pair.”

“Yes, we are.”

Easing off her, he rolled to his side and
tugged her close, snapping up half of the quilt to cover them.

“Want to sleep?” she asked, nestling into his
chest.

“No, just stay close for a minute.”

She did. Then she said, “Want to talk?”

“Absolutely not.”

“How about eating?”

“Yeah, I am hungry.”

“I’ve got food all ready.”

He tightened his grip on her. “Thanks, Cass.
For being here. For luring me here. For this. I feel better.”

She kissed his breastbone. “
I
feel
wonderful.”

They snuggled for a few minutes, then
untangled themselves from each other and stood. Cassie bent down
and picked up the green plaid shirt he’d worn underneath the
sweater. She put it on and he felt his heart constrict. There was
something about her, standing there in the firelight—her hair
mussed from his hands, her mouth swollen from his lips, wearing his
shirt—that elevated the moment from one of raw passion to one of
deep intimacy. He stared at her.

Unaware of what he was feeling, she chatted.
“I’ll get the soup reheated. You might want to...” She looked up.
“What?”

He grabbed her and crushed her to his naked
body. “I want to stay tonight all night.”

Against his chest, she said, “I want you
to.”

When the storm of feeling passed, he drew
back. “Is there something I can do with my car? I wouldn’t want the
neighborhood or the kids to see it here in the morning.”