Authors: Katie Porter
Ryan pushed to sit, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed. One swift move took care of the condom.
He wanted to smile. To laugh. She liked that. Liked him when he was being charming. There wasn’t an ounce of funny in him. He scrubbed his hands down over his face.
The bed shifted as she came to her knees behind him. A tentative touch stroked over his shoulders. “Ryan?”
“I just… Give me a minute.” A fast push had him on his feet.
“Ryan.” She grabbed his wrist. Pulled. He wouldn’t let himself be moved. “Come talk to me about this.”
He couldn’t deal with this, not now. Not when he realized that he wasn’t the man he’d tried to be.
The bathroom wasn’t much of an escape, but at least it was something. “I need a shower.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cass scrambled off the bed before her brain caught up with reflex. Not even bothering to tug off her miniscule skirt, she skittered between Ryan and his bathroom escape hatch. She braced her arms on either wall of the short hallway. He reared back as if touching her would burn.
“So, what, you think a shower will wash it all off?”
He tried to angle past her. “Quit playing, okay? No more insolent teenager.”
“Oh, this isn’t insolent teenager. This is full-grown, pissed-off woman.”
“I’m tired. I don’t want to get into this.”
“Of course you’re tired! We just had a monumental good time. If you think I’m letting you shut me down, now, after what we just did, you’re insane.”
Jaw clenched, Ryan clamped his hands around her upper arms, but he didn’t try to move her. He just stood there, his eyes begging for something she couldn’t give him—privacy.
“What?” she asked. “Can’t do it, huh? Can’t fight me unless there’s a backstory and a hard-on involved?”
“You’re making too much of this. I just want a shower.”
“Bullshit.” She shrugged from under his hands, poking a finger against his bare chest. “I call bullshit, Ryan. Now you sit your butt down and tell me what’s been going on!”
“
Been
going on? What the hell?”
“Sure. You’ve been on the defensive about this almost since day one. I’m standing here dressed like a Nabokov fantasy, but you aren’t man enough to tell me why it wigs you out—when only two seconds ago you couldn’t get enough.”
Movements stiff and clipped, he turned away and grabbed a fresh pair of boxers out of a drawer. Cass shucked what remained of the slutty schoolgirl getup. She snagged a soft white dress shirt from his closet. It wasn’t as safe as talking to him in her own clothes, but at least she wouldn’t feel quite so chilled. The contrast was huge between wearing that outfit when Ryan was on board…and when he was walled off by unnamed regrets.
He stood with his naked back to her, head bowed. His fists tightened over and over. When he finally turned, his face was twisted by some conflict she couldn’t understand. To see him caught in such a moment pulled her close. She crossed to him, touched his shoulder. His tiny flinch made her drop her hand.
“Do you have any idea how much that turns me on? What we just did?”
Cass tried to find some humor—any glimpse of her Ryan. “I have an idea, yeah.”
But Ryan wasn’t home. He looked…hollow. Broken down.
“I’ve been like this for years. Just couldn’t admit it. I’d look at
Playboy
or something but wouldn’t get much out of it. Yeah, they might be hot. Might even be saucy or pretty. Then… Shit, I’d see an ad in a magazine of a cute woman dressed like a nurse or a goddamn librarian, and I’d get hard so fast I couldn’t breathe.”
“So? Ryan, I’m not getting it. What is the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal?” His voice was an explosion in his small bedroom. “What do you mean, what’s the big deal? It’s sick, Cassandra. What we just did is
sick
.”
This was full-blown Major Haverty talking, like when he’d laid into those pilots. After an initial reflex to retreat, Cass stood her ground—one small part frightened, one huge part furious.
“Oh, sure,” she sneered, “you can say that now after you’ve just come. I didn’t see you trying too much when I flashed my waxed kitty.
You
called me back.
You
decided to play. Or maybe your dick did.” She glanced down at his crotch. “Is that why you’re so angry, Ryan? Something else calling the shots?”
“Stop.”
“No, I deserve some straight answers.”
“I just told you! What more do you want from me?”
Cass narrowed her eyes. “I want to know why what we do as consenting adults in the privacy of your bedroom is cause for such a freak out.”
“Because it’s not just here, okay?”
“What, the call-girl thing? The sex shop? If you’re worried about conduct unbecoming, Major, we don’t ever have to again. We’re the only two people involved here.
We
set the terms.”
Hands still tense, he raked his scalp. “Sure, but now Jon knows.”
“He’s not the paparazzi. You think he’ll tell anyone?”
“No.”
“So it’s just that
someone
knows?”
“Why not? It’s not like I go broadcasting this.”
Cass curled her fingers against her mouth, her heart pounding too loudly. “Not ever?”
“Once, okay? Once,” he spit. “That was a huge disaster. I definitely learned my lesson.”
“Who?” Cass couldn’t contain her curiosity, not when this had become so intense. He shook his head, which only made her angrier. “I deserve to know, Ryan. This affects both of us and you know it.”
He sagged onto the mattress, his shoulders curving forward. With a glance up he said, “Her name was Ashleigh. We dated all through my senior year. I even popped the question, thinking she’d want to make it official before I asked her to wait for me on deployments.”
It was Cass’s turn to sag. He’d had a fiancée and hadn’t even told her. What a fool she’d been to think she knew him.
“We’d played around some,” he said. “Stockings. A cheerleader costume at Halloween. When I asked her a few weeks later to wear it again… Shit, Cassandra, she freaked. I tried to explain it. I owed her that after asking her to get married. Nothing calmed her down. ‘Women aren’t Barbie dolls to help you get off,’ she said.”
That judgmental bitch. Cass curled her hands into fists, riding a surprising wave of disgust. Sure, it wouldn’t work for every woman. But had this Ashleigh really needed to belittle Ryan like he’d done something wrong?
“That’s why you didn’t tell me,” she said quietly.
He lifted his gaze from the floor, his expression weary and defeated. “I thought she loved me. I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together—and even that wasn’t enough. Do you really think I was going to risk something as new as you and me by opening up about my perversion?”
“Perversion?” She made a face. “Oh, come off it.”
“Of course it is.”
“Which part doesn’t track with your brutish gender, hm?” Ticking off the list on her fingers, she said, “Sex with submissive young women, sex with high-class call girls who claim you’re the biggest and best, sex that pushes limits and provides an escape. Just what the hell is so weird about any of that? It sounds like ninety-nine percent of the straight male population.”
“Because it’s common, Cassandra. It’s weird. It’s
trashy
.” His slouched pose only accentuated the fit definition of his abs where they rippled in on each other. “You know how I grew up, right?”
“What you’ve told me.”
“There I was, in that sleazy trailer park. It sounds like a stereotype, I know. Some trailer parks are nice. They’re a real community, well kept. This wasn’t.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I saw when I was younger. Drugs. A stabbing. There was this feud between two families that wound up with an arson charge. Every boy knew where you could hide behind a few old fences to watch the prostitutes come out after dark.”
Cass’s hands shook. She clasped them together, then held as motionless as a rabbit in danger.
“After Coach Dan kicked some sense into me, I worked my ass off. I wanted out of there. Someday I would be a pilot. Do you know what kind of ridicule that much ambition gets in a place like that? So I stopped telling everyone. Just kept my head down, kept focused on my goals.”
“Ryan, you’ve achieved them.”
He lifted his chin, meeting her eyes. “It wasn’t just about the job. I swore I’d be better than all of that one day. I’d have a nice house, a great wife, people’s respect. No one would have to know…”
Cass forced the tight tendons of her neck to relax. She tested him when she concluded, “No one would have to know you’re just as unworthy as that trailer trash.”
A sigh pushed out from his strong chest. “Busted. Now you’ve dragged all this playacting shit out of me and there’s no going back.”
That flickering rage, almost quelled by his pain, flared back to life. “Me?
I
dragged this out? How is this my fault?”
“Just drop it. You’ve poked at me enough for one night.”
“No, I won’t. Everything we’ve done has been straight out of your deepest fantasies, and now I get the blame for it? How is that fair?”
He surged off the bed, his defensive anger like a tidal wave coming in. “It wasn’t enough that I think about it all the time. You had to go make it
possible
. Now how the hell can I shove that knowledge back?”
“You don’t! You thank the sweet baby Jesus that you finally found a girl who loves it too and wants to play along.”
“I don’t want you to play along! I want something normal and good.”
“And this…” She pointed to the plaid skirt where it lay in a rumpled heap. “This isn’t normal or good. I get it.”
Cass left him there, her steps nearly blind as she hurried toward the apartment’s front door.
“Where are you going?” he called, coming after her. “You can’t leave the house in that.”
“I can.”
“Cass, don’t do this.”
“Cass? I’m Cass now, huh? All that adorable Cassandra stuff was just part of the All-American act, wasn’t it?”
“What act?”
“You! Your whole life is an act.”
“Screw that.”
“Sure it is! You play dress up every day,
Major
Haverty. People see your uniform first. Then they see that quick smile of yours and, well, who could blame them for not looking any deeper? I did. And look what I found.”
“Don’t bring my job into this.”
“Why not? It’s not off limits here. When was the last time you were with a girl who didn’t know you as a pilot first, or a varsity quarterback?” His hesitation was answer enough. Cass grabbed her coat and tugged it on. “I caught you off guard, didn’t I? Me and my stockings and these fucking pigtails.”
He flinched.
“Before you knew it, you’d revealed too much. You showed me just what you liked and just what you needed. It was okay, though, right? Just a weekend. Just a fun fling.” Her motions were sharp as she cinched the jacket’s waist tie. “It’s fine to whore around with a waitress. You probably could’ve locked that weekend away in a dark corner, only bringing it out to jerk off on special occasions. All nice and private. But the longer we stayed together, the tougher it’s been for you to reconcile. So I’ll go.”
“Don’t. Please.”
“You don’t think I’m staying here, do you, Professor?”
His expression revealed surprise and hurt. She’d lashed out using his shame as a weapon. At that moment she didn’t feel like being kind.
“That’s not fair,” he said. “You liked it too.”
“My point exactly, you stubborn asshole.” Her voice shook. She couldn’t stop herself from venting it all. “I liked it too. I have from the start. I wasn’t ashamed, not until about four minutes ago.
You
did that to me. You took the fun and the laughter out of it and turned it into something gross.”
Ryan crossed the living room. His face said contrition, but his posture remained painfully tight. Even defiant. He was just going through the motions of placating her.
“I’m asking you not to go. Don’t…don’t go away angry.”
“I’m not one of your subordinates, Major. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“
You
don’t get to lead me around by my dick.”
“I can. I did. Not anymore.”
His nostrils flared. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re done.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not,” she said, forcing the words out of her constricted throat. “In fact, I’m applying some pretty shrewd logic to the situation. I’m sorry about your ex, Ryan. I am. I’m sorry you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about her before now. But I’m even sorrier that she made you think you need to choose between fantasy and reality. So I’m making it easy on you.” She nudged her chin back toward the bedroom door. “That outfit is a size six. Keep it anonymous and I’m sure you could find another waitress to fill it out.”
“It’s not like that!”
Cass held back her tears by force of will. He was ruining something wonderful with every word. She needed to get the hell out. Soon she wouldn’t be able to look back on any of their time together without fits of nauseated shame.
“How am I supposed to trust that?” she asked. “You didn’t even have enough trust to tell me in the first place.”
“Cassandra,” he rasped.
“Good luck, Ryan. I hope you figure out that there doesn’t need to be a choice. That there might actually be a good woman in this world who can give you everything.” She shrugged, her heart breaking. “I just hope you don’t realize that it could’ve been me. I imagine that would hurt like hell.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lost in the last dregs of sleep, Ryan didn’t know what was pounding at his door. He stretched a hand across the bed and found nothing. Cool sheets. No warm body or soft hair. Just like there hadn’t been for the past three weeks.
Shit.
The pounding kept up anyway.
He stumbled out of bed, glancing at the green glow of his iPod dock. Six a.m. Who in their right mind would bother him at that hour?
Jon and Leah. Of course.
They stood in the walkway outside his door dressed in workout clothes. Jon leaned against the railing while Leah practically danced. The woman had so much energy she lived life at a full-out sprint.