Authors: Christa Maurice
All Jason had had to do was smile, and she’d just about leaped into his bed. Her bed, actually. And from the very beginning, she’d known what the deal was. This was a fling.
She sat down on the edge of the tub and pressed her face into her hands. He made her feel so good in so many ways, but it was all wrong.
A knock at the door startled her. “You okay in there?” Jason asked through the door.
“Uh, yeah. I’m okay.” Her voice sounded funny. She hoped he wouldn’t hear it.
“I thought you’d gone down the drain.”
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Cass stood up and looked at herself in the mirror again. She needed to pull herself together. She only had a little more event stuff to deal with, and needed something to do. Paint maybe. Or sit around pining about how she was losing Jason in a few days.
At least she wouldn’t have to worry about the bet anymore. Jason would break before she would in this mood.
He’d told her if she won she could have anything she wanted. All she wanted was him, and he wasn’t part of the deal. The bet did not supersede the original contract.
Bare feet propped on the armrest, he lay on the couch in the living room, still reading that stupid tree identification guide he’d found. “You got a couple of calls while you were in there,” he told her. “They’re on the machine.”
“Okay.” For a moment longer than necessary, she stood in the kitchen door, watching him. She still wanted him. Her bath and her guilt had dampened her desire, but hadn’t extinguished it. Nothing would ever do that. Which increased her guilt. She turned to the answering machine and pushed
Play Message
.
“Hi, Cass, it’s Donny. Hey, the weather says we have another storm brewing for tonight, so do you want me to plow you out now or can you wait some? Just call and leave a message on my machine, okay?”
Cass paused the machine and called Donny’s. “Hi, Donny, it’s Cass. We might as well wait until tomorrow if we have another storm coming in. I hope we don’t have to dig again. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” She hung up and started the machine again.
“Cass, this is Finn... Um, I hope everything’s going well up there. You weather this storm, okay? Um, I hear Bill gave you a high price on that land of his. I can help you with that if you want. He’s got it in his head that you’ve got money to burn with this fancy winter guest of yours and he wants near the fire. Give me a call when you’re ready to talk about it. Or I guess I’ll see you when you come in for your mail. Unless you’re coming down the holler for the dance at the church the day after tomorrow. Give me a call.”
Poor Finn. For some reason, years of her resistance and refusals hadn’t brought home the idea that she didn’t love him, but Jason appeared, and he knew. Maybe she needed to give Angela a call.
“Hi, Cass, it’s Paul,” was the next message. “You probably know already about the argument I had with Finn. I feel terrible about it and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I wish I’d never opened my mouth, but that man makes me so angry. He thinks you’re his right as a citizen of the town. He votes, he pays taxes, he gets Cassandra. Anyway, would you please call me? I just can’t sleep, thinking you might be mad at me.”
Cass picked up the phone. Paul might be dramatic, but he was dramatic through and through and he really wouldn’t sleep until he talked to her. At best, he would start baking and not stop until the sugar ran out.
“Who are you calling?”
She jumped and spun around. Jason leaned in the kitchen door like he’d been there all along. His gaze trailed down her then rose and met her eyes. Heat coiled in her belly. “Paul,” she managed to say.
“Oh. I thought you were calling Finn.”
Cass shook her head. Her knees shook, too. Her guilt receded to the dim recesses of her mind, driven there by the desire in his eyes. “Paul, he’ll worry until he hears from me. He’s very sensitive.”
“Then by all means, call him.” Jason smiled. “I’ll just watch.”
Her hands were so sweaty, she had to adjust her grip on the phone. What was Paul’s number? It was in her phone book. What was his last name? Where was her phone book? She wondered what Jason would exact from her if he won the bet. Free camping every winter for the rest of their lives? Gosh, wouldn’t that be terrible. “I can call him later.”
“We don’t want him to worry.”
She’d never come up with the number now, and so hung up the phone. Not with him looking at her like that. “He’s lived this long. Another hour or more won’t hurt him.”
“What do you plan on doing for that hour?” Jason’s smile turned wicked. Shivers tumbled down her back.
Cass licked her lips and watched him watch her do it. She’d had a surefire plan a minute ago. Where had it gone? “Ever made s’mores?”
His salacious grin disappeared, and he blinked. “What?”
“S’mores. We make them around the campfire all the time.” Cass crossed the kitchen and opened the cupboard. “You toast a marshmallow and put it between graham crackers with some chocolate. It’s like a dessert sandwich. You’ve never made them?”
“I didn’t go camping when I was a kid,” he said.
“Well, we’ll start with lessons on how to toast marshmallows.” Having stacked the bag of marshmallows, the box of graham crackers and the package of Hershey bars on a tray, she opened her utensil drawer. “I thought you might not have. I have some skewers that should work. Here they are.” She held up the long handled skewers.
Jason looked befuddled now. “Okay.”
Cass carried the tray past him into the living room. As she settled in front of the fire, she felt willful and wild. She’d never purposely provoked a man into seducing her, and wasn’t sure how she planned to do it now, but a hot fire and some sticky food should provide inspiration. Desire thrummed through her as he sat down beside her. She stuck a marshmallow on a skewer and handed it to him. “There are two schools of thought on the toasting of marshmallows. One says to let them catch fire and eat them when they’re completely charred on the outside.”
“And the other school?”
His frown, brows drawn down, confirmed, yes, he was truly bewildered. Obviously the idea of a hot, sticky food wasn’t working for him yet. “The other school leans toward a slow roasting so the inside melts.”
“Hmm.” He smiled. “I think I like the second school.”
“Until you overcook one and it falls in the fire.” Eyebrow raised, she watched a flush rise up his neck and spill across his cheeks. Turned to the flames, she held her marshmallow just above the glowing coals while she arranged a piece of chocolate on a graham cracker with her free hand. He had thrust his marshmallow in the flames. It caught fire, and he started turning it so all sides would char.
“I thought you liked the second school,” she said.
As he blew out his marshmallow and pulled it off the skewer, he captured her gaze. “Baby, I’ve been on a slow burn all day.” He popped the whole thing in his mouth.
“You forgot the rest of your s’more.” Cass hoped she sounded like herself, but the sight of him licking melted marshmallow off his lips had her feeling hot and melty like her slowly roasting marshmallow. She forced herself to look at it instead of him.
“I thought I should investigate all positions first.” He skewered another one.
So far hers was browning nicely. If only her plan wasn’t backfiring. He seemed to be in complete control while she might spontaneously combust. Her marshmallow flamed, and she blew out the flames before sliding the oozing mass onto her chocolate. Perfect. Gooey all the way through and beginning to melt the chocolate. A good approximation of how she felt at this moment. She looked at the tray to see where the condom she’d prepped had gone. The way things were headed, she was going to cave in a few minutes and she wanted to know where it was.
“Your turn,” Jason murmured.
Cass turned and he pressed a scorched marshmallow to her mouth. The charred skin crackled across her lips. Her eyes closed as she caught his hand and leaned forward to draw his fingers into her mouth. As she licked the sticky sweetness from his long fingers, he trembled, tangled his free hand tangled through her hair. He drew his fingers out of her mouth and eased her back onto the floor.
“You win,” he murmured as he slanted his mouth across hers. His demanding hands tore at her clothing, undressing her in moments. She shuddered at his raw need. Everywhere his hands were not, she felt his mouth, his lips, his tongue, as if he wanted to devour her. He struggled out of his jeans and cursed.
“Here.” She grabbed the condom and pressed it into his hand.
He laughed. “You had this all planned, didn’t you?” he whispered as he entered her. Cass arched under him, only aware of his long powerful strokes filling her. She clutched his shoulders as his lean, hard body slid against hers. The heat of the fire beside her seemed distant and cool compared to the heat in her belly. His friction increased until she over wound and released, uncoiling in his arms.
His thrusts slowed, but didn’t stop. Face buried in the curve of her neck, he breathed hard. “Come for me again,
bella
,” he whispered. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, sending fresh shivers down her spine. Incredibly, her body tightened around him. She dug her fingers into his back, and his mouth closed over hers as she came in a shattering crescendo. He groaned against her lips and collapsed.
For a long time they lay twined together. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his head between her breasts, just breathing.
“That’s the most foreplay I’ve ever had,” she said, trying to sound light even though she wanted to sob. She had promised herself this short affair would leave her with sweet memories, but suspected they’d be bitter as well because they would only be memories.
Laughing, he sat up and helped her up. “You are certainly full of surprises.”
Cass forced a dry chuckle.
Jason watched her face. She tried to plaster on a convincing happy expression, but it cracked at the edges. After a moment’s study, he picked up her flannel shirt and draped it over her shoulders. “You better put this on,” he said. “It’s kind of cold in here.”
* * * *
When she called, Paul was predictably distraught. From the sound of things, he’d gone into a round of guilt-induced baking which would make the Baptist Church dance a real treat the day after tomorrow and next week as well. Cass leaned on the kitchen counter watching Jason play cards, wishing she could go. Bill, Finn and Angela would all be there, offering the chance to wrap up several problems at once, but Jason’s presence would create more. As she watched, Jason picked up a card and flicked it into the fire. It went past too fast for her to register what suit, but it was either diamonds or hearts and a face card. He made a few more moves and then flicked another card into the flames. This time she saw what it was. The king of hearts. She finished her conversation and hung up.
“Throwing cards in the fire will make it more difficult to win,” she commented.
He looked up and the chill in his eyes nearly made her stagger. “I guess it will.” He scraped the rest of the cards together and dropped them in the fire, but not before she noticed the queen of diamonds missing. “I’m coming up all spades anyway. I guess you’ll have to add a deck of cards to my bill.”
“I’ve got a computer version if you promise not to throw that in the fire.”
He glowered at her and this time she did step back. Half an hour ago they’d been making love on the floor and now he was glaring and tossing cards in the fire. The king of hearts and the queen of diamonds yet. Why? Was he thinking about Stella again?
“I’m going to take a walk,” he announced, startling her.
She nodded. “Okay. Stay within sight of the cabin though. There’s another storm coming up and you might need to get inside quick.”
He grunted and stalked down the hall.
Once she heard the garage door open, she dialed the phone. “Hello, Gretta?”
“Hey, honey, did you manage to spare a few minutes from having hot sex with Jason Callisto to give me an update?”
“Something’s not right.”
“What’s the matter?” Her tone had shifted from cheerful to deadly.
“He’s acting funny. He just threw the cards in the fire.” Cass’s throat closed. She didn’t want to panic Gretta and Jason to walk in on her crying, but everything seemed to be headed there quick.
“What cards?”
“My deck of cards. He threw them in the fire.”
“Is he scaring you?”
If she said the wrong thing Gretta would have state troopers on her doorstep in twenty minutes, storm or no storm. “You watch too much TV, Gretta. He’s not going to kill me. He’s just moody and he withdraws from me.” She’d been trying to sound light, but still choked on the last words.
“Is he there with you?”
“He’s outside.” Cass pulled the phone to the window and looked. Jason stood knee deep in snow in the side yard, his black coat making a stark outline against the whiteness. “I think he’s building a snowman. Oh God, Gretta, I’ve done something terrible.”
“You did?”
“I fell in love with him. I didn’t want to and I didn’t mean to, but I did.” Saying it out loud felt so good. It had been festering in her like a wound. In the air the secret might dry up and heal. Why did she feel like she had to heal from being in love with Jason?
“Surprise. It’s not like you weren’t half in love with him when he walked into your house. Cass, you’ve been hot for this guy since college. Hell, if he was walking around my living room, I’d be thinking seriously about my wedding vows even if he wasn’t flirting with me.”
“It’s not just lust, Gretta. I really love him. Stella hurt him when she dumped him and I want to heal that. I love the fact that he snores a little in his sleep.”
“He snores?”
“Very softly. I love the fact that he wipes up the last traces of his food with a chunk of bread, and the way he wraps my hair around his fingers. I love his playfulness. I love that he’s building a pyramid in my yard.”
“He’s building a pyramid in your yard?”
Cass pressed her cheek against the window to get a better look. He’d found a shovel in her garage and was using it as a sculpting tool. “It might be an Aztec temple. You know, those pyramids with the steps. Hard to tell at this stage. I love that he balls his socks up and throws them in the corner at night.”