“Everything is locked, the alarm is on, and police are watching the grounds and house. They’ll find Leary before he gets in here, if he tries.”
“And if they don’t?”
“I’ll be here. You’re not alone anymore and you don’t have Tim to protect this time. Things are different; things are going to turn out.”
“I wish you could guarantee that.”
“I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day,” John said, as he got up, taking his dishes to the sink. He looked out the window. The dripping rain made being inside seem the best use for the day. He scanned the yard for any movements or anyone lurking in the sand dunes. He wasn’t scared like Cassie. He’d never seen or met Leary, and he wasn’t the type to be scared of what he didn’t know. It seemed like Leary was a loser who was too much of a coward to dare to go through with anything. But he wasn’t about to belittle Cassie’s genuine fear, or on the off chance that he was wrong, have Cassie get hurt.
Chapter Fifteen
“Cassie go to bed,” John said, as she yawned for the third time. They were sitting in the living room watching the late night news, and after a day spent trying to keep her mind off of Marcus and Tim, Cassie’s eyes kept closing.
“Soon,” she said her tone noncommittal.
He’d found her company surprisingly easy all day. They had talked more than they had to date, and he’d liked it. He looked over at her with his eyebrows arched, “So are you going to just go to my room now or later?”
Her eyes grew big. “You knew?”
“It’s hard to miss when you nearly pushed me out of bed.”
“I got scared last night.”
“So are you sleeping with me again?”
“No. No of course not. I’m not trying to start old habits.”
“I gathered by the sweats, still your favorite choice of man-armor huh?”
“Why didn’t you say something this morning?”
He shrugged.
“Well I’m sure I’ll be fine tonight, after all we have the cops here now and everything.”
He shrugged again. “You’re welcome to go to my bed.”
He stared right into her eyes. What was he saying? What exactly was he offering?
“Okay,” she said finally, looking away.
John waited until Cassie had enough time to go to sleep. The lamp was on, and she was asleep on her side, the book she’d been reading had dropped carelessly onto the mattress. The cover was a couple in an embrace alongside a cliff; he shook his head over Cassie and her books. But lingering over the attractive woman in his bed was a sure way to lead to things he did not want. He turned and headed to the bathroom. When he came out he finally got into bed on the other side of her. It was one thing to wake up with Cassie next to him, but a whole other proposition to try and go to sleep when she was already in bed. He tried to forget about her and will himself to sleep.
He finally flipped flat on his back sighing up at the ceiling. He still wanted her, despite everything that had happened between them. And although until two nights ago he’d had a girlfriend, he now didn’t. John flopped around trying to forget how uncomfortable he suddenly was, and that she was there. But then…there really wasn’t any reason to keep fighting this battle.
****
Cassie woke up. A hand rested on her stomach, fingers gently brushed over her bare skin, then up her rib cage to cup her breast. The thumb brushed over her nipple, causing it to constrict and harden, tingling with sensation. Cassie froze. She was on her back, close to John. She couldn’t see his face in the darkness. “John?”
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing?”
He shifted so she was alongside of him. Clothes separated them, but he was hard and hot against her.
“Isn’t that obvious?” he whispered into her ear, his voice alert, his breath warm against her skin.
His hand slid from one nipple to the other, tugging at it and distracting her thoughts from her head and focusing them on the fire he was creating inside of her. His hands cupped the weight of her breasts as his palm rubbed against the sensitivity he’d inflamed. She pressed her crotch harder against his in reflex to the almost painful heat that seemed to be simmering through her and ending there.
“That’s it baby,” he said, as he slid his hand from her breasts down over her stomach and to the waist of her pajama bottoms.
His mouth came to hers. He tugged at her pajama bottoms. His lips caressed her, while his tongue slid into her mouth. It was fast and hot and hurried. He wanted her. And he wanted her now. His hands went back to her breasts. He cupped them, pushing them up and bringing his mouth down on them, sliding his tongue over one tightly beaded nipple before pulling it into his wet, warm mouth. She groaned as her insides squeezed deep and hot in waves of intense sensations. There was tight, white-hot, heat igniting along her stomach and gaining strength the lower in her it went.
But then her nerves doused her as if cold water had been poured over her warming insides. She was ridiculously shy and nervous, almost incapable of making any kind of move. All the tricks and forwardness she once possessed seemed to have inverted into nerves and awkwardness on her end. What John was doing felt good, but not enough to cause that numbness in her mind that sex used to give her. She didn’t think she was even capable of getting mind blowing turned on any more.
John was though. She could feel it in the way he kissed her and touched her. She rubbed her hands over his bare back. She liked how solid he felt and how silky his skin was. She let her hands fall over his butt and encountered surprisingly he still wore his jeans. He hadn’t been planning on this.
He picked up her hand and brought it to the fly of his jeans. She could feel the tight bulge against her hand, and it made her heart rate increase and her stomach seem to drop. She knew what he wanted but she was unsure. She was slow to react. Slow to think. She didn’t know why he was doing this. She didn’t know if she really wanted to do this, or what it would do to the tentative truce they’d created. Whatever his feelings toward her they seemed to have combusted into a hurried, hot, lust for her. A lust that he’d inexplicably harbored for her since he was eighteen. And sleeping in the same bed had reawakened that desire in him, which of course she’d known would happen. She just hadn’t been brave enough to admit that to herself. Nor had she dared to dream John would ever get past his feelings of betrayal to start something like this between them.
She clumsily worked at getting the top button of his jeans undone, and then slid the zipper down. She reached around him and peeled the loosened jeans from him. He kicked them off his feet. She returned her hands to the waist of underwear to finish what she’d started. Why was she acting so shy? Like she, Cassie Reeves, could possibly get embarrassed at seeing an aroused man.
Finally her hand wrapped around him, he took a breath in and groaned.
He ran a hand from her breast down her stomach and over her inner thigh, pushing her legs open as he rolled over her and settled himself between her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn’t seem to realize she was literally hanging onto him. His arms were on both sides of her, the muscles in them straining. His skin was warm to the touch, and the closeness of him made her feel better than she had in years. He reached past her, clumsily feeling around for the night table and opening the drawer. She heard the crinkle-like sound of foil. He pulled the condom between them and ripped it open, sliding it down where their bodies were almost touching and putting it on.
He kissed her as he pushed into her. She’d known it was coming and that it would hurt. She tried to control her reaction and not show it. She dug her fingers into his broad hard shoulders but couldn’t stop her body from tightening up, her back arching, and the whimper that escaped her lips. He was big and she was too small and tight. Every ounce of lust she’d felt was gone; all that was left was the burning sensation between her thighs.
He didn’t move.
She registered this after a long moment where all she’d been aware of was how surprisingly much it had hurt. Her eyes were tightly shut. She slowly opened them to find him staring at her, his confusion over what was wrong evident in his eyes.
He raised a hand and brushed it over her cheek in the first gesture of real tenderness he’d shown her in ten years. “How long has it been?”
“Years,” she said vaguely. He almost had to lower his head to her mouth to hear her.
“Do you want me to stop?”
She nodded her head yes.
He slid out of her. She didn’t move, feeling wretched embarrassment and regret, and wondering how mad he’d be.
He lay down next to her, his head on the same pillow as her. He didn’t touch her, but he looked into her eyes again. She was cold and vulnerable. Goose bumps raised on her skin. This wasn’t the night of frantic passion she was sure John pictured it would be. He touched her shoulder, turning her toward him, fluffing the sheet to land around them.
“How long?”
“Since I had Tim.”
“That long? I guess when you said you’d changed you weren’t kidding.”
“No, I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
He brought his hand up and cupped her chin, surprising her by kissing her lips in a gentle lingering kiss that went no further than lips but left her feeling strangely languid.
“If I’d known I wouldn’t have hurt you. Or at least made it not so bad.”
“I had no reason to say anything before.”
“No you didn’t. I’m sorry Cassie. I never dreamed I’d hurt you. Given—”
“Who I am.”
“Who you were,” he corrected her. He waited a moment before he asked, “Why?”
Why no sex in six years? How could she describe that? She shrugged. “I finally had more important things to do.”
“No. I meant, why did you let me? Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Because it’s you.”
He looked at her, his expression unchanging. Then he leaned over and kissed her again. She fell onto her back and let him kiss her, opening her body to him because she did want him, even if it hurt, because it was John. He kissed her lips, sending hot shivers down her spine. He looked back up at her, his gaze hot and wanting again.
“If you’d told me I could have done it right the first time. I’ve learned a few things in ten years that might even make this fun for you,” he said grinning at her.
Her stomach leapt at his sexual banter, not expecting it from John. “Well it seems I’ve lost the knowledge I did have.”
“I guess I’ll have to re-teach you.”
She didn’t have a chance to answer because he kissed her again, this time slow and thorough. He ran kisses up to her ear and ran his tongue over her ear lobe. Her body shivered in response. Then he worked his way to feast on her breasts again, telling her hotly into her ear how much he liked them. He was thorough and slow and unhurried this time. His lips and tongue worked their way down her stomach, and then the soft skin on her inner thighs, circling her. And then…she felt it. The slow burning fires that his touch and kiss made spark that much more.
He ran a finger along her, whisper soft, opening her slowly and gently. All the blood from her body seemed to pool there and that soft pressure wasn’t enough. She wanted more. He explored her slow and thorough, fingers and tongue and lips. She was open and wet and the last thing on her mind was the possibility that anything could hurt her, especially John.
This time when he pulled on a condom, he rolled her on top of him, bringing her over him so her breasts were flat against his bare chest. He put his hands loosely at her waist as if to say, do what she pleased, giving her the complete control on how fast and how much pressure. She eased him inside her, letting her body open and stretch, getting used to him. Once he was completely in her, she sat up and moved her hips slowly, experimenting in what used to be as familiar as walking. This was different. Better. This was real. She wondered if she’d ever had sex before when she’d actually wanted to.
He still didn’t hurry her. He let her do as she pleased, and she suddenly liked having that control. She liked him being inside of her. He put his hands on her breasts and flicked at her nipples, making her body expand again, the tightness lessening. She moved. Instead of hot and quick, he moved slow and deep inside her, until she felt so good she laid down over him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding onto him as he finally took over, hard and deep until she came with an exploding loss of awareness she’d never had before.
Chapter Sixteen
John entered the kitchen. Cassie pretended to fidget with the pan she had eggs cooking in. She wouldn’t raise her eyes to meet his. She suddenly seemed intensely interested in her breakfast. The room was lit up with morning sun, bright and cheery, but Cassie didn’t seem to notice. She looked weary, and tense, and intent on giving him the cold shoulder.
“Cassie?” he said, coming to stand directly behind her.
She didn’t move or turn around. He put an arm casually around her waist and pulled her back against him. “How long are you going to ignore me?” he asked into her ear.
Last night she’d stayed on him a long while, limp and spent until he’d thought she’d fallen asleep. Then abruptly, she’d pulled herself off him and made her way to the bathroom. She’d come out fully dressed again in the flannel, baggy pajamas she’d worn to bed. Her hair had been brushed, and she looked as wholesome as a girl at a slumber party, not the satisfied, sexy woman she’d been ten minutes before, totally open and draped over him.
He had rolled up on his elbow and rested his head on his hand for support, watching her, letting her know he was wide awake, curious to see what she’d say. She avoided looking at him. She primly tucked herself back into bed and pulled the covers over herself, still not looking his way.
Who was she? The promiscuous teen and woman who’d managed to screw more men then he’d probably like to contemplate, or this girl here, prim and wholesome, awkward and unsure of herself. Come to think of it that’s how she’d been when they’d had sex way back when. John would bet Cassie could have sex just fine, it was intimacy that she had no idea what to do with. Add that to her celibacy the last six years, and he was left with her being like this.