by Tate James
A micro-smile touched his lips. "That's cute."
Sometimes his lack of verbal skills really irritated me. "What's cute?"
"That you want to hang out and get stoned with me." His gaze dipped to my lips on the mouth of my beer bottle. "But that’s not what I had in mind."
Sick of trying to pry answers out of him, I just sat back and drained half my bottle with one gulp, then wiped my mouth on the back of my wrist like a really classy bitch.
"What did the note mean?" Cass asked after a long pause.
I huffed a humorless laugh. "It meant Chase is crazier now than he ever was. That's my guess, anyway." The beer soured in my stomach, and I regretted drinking it so fast. Tension vibrated through me, and my fingertips danced an anxious pattern on the side of my beer. This wasn't me. I wasn't this jittery, scared woman. Every message from Chase was making me forget more and more of who I was now. I kept backsliding into the weak, easily manipulated victim I'd been back then. Back when I’d been stupid enough to think he loved me.
"He blew up all my cars," I said eventually. "Those seven smaller explosions? My cars. And Fat Bob. The note was his way of taking credit for it." I pulled it out of my back pocket and smoothed it out again.
"I'd say that was a little more than scratching them," Cass muttered, then gulped his own beer.
I gave him a weak smile. "Zed taught me how to drive when I was sixteen," I told him. "But he didn't trust me not to crash his car, so we would take Chase's instead and just... not tell him. Until one night I thought a cat was on the road, and I swerved to miss it. Crashed right into a tree." I swallowed heavily as the old, venomous emotions clinging to my memories of Chase tried to surface. "I knew he was going to be so mad, so I wrote him a note and left it taped to the windshield after the car got towed back to his place."
Cass nodded his understanding. "Gotcha. Word for word, I assume?"
I wrinkled my nose. "Pretty much."
He was quiet for a long time. I had nothing else I wanted to add to the story, so I just tossed the note on the table beside my jacket and finished my beer.
Cass’s phone beeped and he checked it, then nodded to me. "Zed's trying to get ahold of you."
Oops. My phone was on silent. I found it in the pocket of my jacket and saw the screen flashing with Zed's name already, so I slid my thumb across the "answer" button.
"I'm fine," I said before he could even get a word out. "He waited until we were right outside to blow it."
There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "To blow what, boss?"
I don't know why, but I looked over at Cass in confusion. Not that he could hear Zed on my phone, but I was confused. "The... wait, what were you blowing up my phone for?"
"The hospital called me to come pick Lucas up; I thought you'd want to know. Dare, what blew up?" Zed sounded like he was just one step away from shouting at me, which was new for him.
I rubbed a hand over my face, cursing myself for not letting him speak first. "My building. Landon House. Chase fucking blew up my cars, then took the entire building down for good measure."
Another pause. Then a muffled string of obscene curses. "Where are you now?" His voice was shaking with fury, and I guessed part of that was over the loss of my McLaren. Or maybe the fact that Mrs. Greenbriar had almost certainly been inside at the time of the explosion. In fairness, I was simply avoiding thinking about all those deaths. It was the only reason I hadn't given in to my panic attack in the car earlier.
I let out a sigh. "I'm with Cass. We followed the guy from the scene and caught up with him just outside Shadow Grove. Chase got there first, though."
"Shit," Zed said with a groan. "Where are you? I'm getting in my car now."
I shot a glance at Cass again, but he was just watching me with an unreadable expression. His long fingers toyed with the label on his bottle, and I found the small movement strangely mesmerizing.
"I'm fine here," I told Zed, evading his question for some reason. "Go pick Lucas up, and I'll meet you at home." I stiffened, my pulse racing. "I mean, at your house."
Another pause. "Sure thing, boss." He ended the call, and I tossed my phone back onto the table.
"You okay?" Cass asked after a moment.
I blew out a breath, running my hand over my hair. "Yeah. I should go. Thanks for..." I gave a shrug. Thanking people was still an uncomfortable concept for me. I wasn't used to giving a shit about social niceties.
Cass leaned forward and slammed his beer bottle on the table. "Stop," he snapped. "Stop doing that."
His sudden anger gave me a small jolt of shock, but not in a bad way. Just... it was surprising to see a raw emotion out of his perpetually stone-like state… and fascinating in a way that made me want to poke the bear with a stick.
But not now. Now, I had to deal with the destruction of my building, set up death benefits for my neighbors who were killed, and, somehow, hunt down Chase.
"Spare me the tantrum, Saint," I told him in a cool voice. "I don't have the time or the patience for this." Grabbing my jacket from the table, I stood up and started toward the door.
"So, we're not going to talk about it?" he demanded before I could even get my arms into the sleeves of my jacket.
Spinning around to face him, I flipped my hair out of the collar. "Talk about what?"
His eyes blazed. "The letter. You demanded I write you a letter, so I did. But you still don't trust me enough to let me help."
I gave a bitter laugh before I could catch myself. "I don't trust anyone, Cass. Don't take it personally."
Silly me for thinking that would be the end of it. I turned my back on him and reached for the door handle. But I’d barely gotten the door open a couple of inches before his huge palm slammed it shut again.
"You trust Zed," Cass rumbled, his lips so close to my ear that his breath warmed my skin. How the shit had he moved so freaking fast? Then again, he'd trained with Phillip D'Ath, just the same as Zed and me. It really wasn't that surprising.
I drew a slow breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Zed's my second. My best friend." I grimaced and amended that statement. "My only true friend."
Cass left his hand planted against the door, fencing me in on one side. His other hand brushed the hair away from my neck, and I shivered involuntarily as his fingertips brushed my skin.
"You trust Lucas." His voice had dipped to a husky whisper, and my whole body was responding.
I gave a small headshake, my eyes still glued to his tattooed hand pressed against the door. "Do I, though? Lucas knows nothing about me. He has no idea why he was taken and tortured. All I trusted him with was my orgasms. And look where that landed him."
Cass shifted closer, his chest brushing my back and his facial hair tickling my neck as he bent low over me. "That's still trust, Red. What do I have to do to earn the same?"
I gave a sharp laugh, spinning around abruptly to face him. "You wanna give me orgasms, Saint?" I tilted my head back, mocking him as our eyes locked.
He didn't flinch. "I thought I was pretty clear about that in my letter, Red."
My lower belly fluttered. He really fucking had been. But that wasn't all he was asking for here. I knew it. He knew it. But apparently we were both just pretending this was only about sex.
I dragged my lower lip through my teeth, sorely tempted. "I've got too much shit to deal with right now, Cass. I don't have time for this."
He wasn't backing down. In fact, he just leaned in closer, his mouth hovering over mine like he was waiting for me to kiss him again. "I'm not asking for forever, Red."
Like a magnet, my body arched closer to him, and I mentally chastised myself. I wasn't that girl. I wasn't ruled by my dripping cunt like some airheaded twit.
Cass was done messing around, though. That subtle signal from my body must’ve been all the answer he needed because his mouth crashed into mine with an intensity that knocked the breath clear out of me. My back hit the door, and I turned to putty in his hands. Whether he
intended to or not, he'd just stumbled over my Achilles heel. I wanted him to take charge.
With a small moan, I kissed him back, letting my tongue meet his as my fingers dug into the hard flesh of his back. His huge hand gripped my face, holding my firm when he pulled back from our kiss, his eyes burning with heat as he stared straight into my soul.
"I'm not asking you for forever, Red," he murmured in that deep, husky voice that all but dripped sex. "But you'll give it to me anyway."
I scoffed, genuinely amused by the size of his ego. "We'll see."
A wicked smirk touched his lips. "Damn right, we will." He used his grip on my face to bring my lips back to his, this time kissing me slower and with undeniable purpose.
It scared me. It legitimately terrified me. Cassiel Saint didn't just want a quick fuck; he wanted commitment. There was no way I was ready to give him that. Not now, probably not ever. But I also wasn't pushing him away and walking out the door.
When his hand shifted from my face to my neck and gave a light squeeze, I moaned in a way that would put a porn star to shame. His response was just to crush me tighter into the door until the hard length of his dick trapped in denim was unmistakable against my hip.
His fingers slid under the collar of my jacket, and his other hand at my waist tugged me slightly away from the door so he could push my jacket off. I let it fall from my arms, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. I quickly unclipped my gun holster and tossed it onto the decorative table near his door.
"You've got fifteen minutes," I told Cass in a breathless whisper as he hitched his hands under my ass and lifted me clean off the floor. "Make them count."
He just grunted an amused sound and responded by striding through to his bedroom with my legs still wrapped around his waist. "That's cute," he told me, kicking the door shut and then dropping me onto his bed. He planted his hands on either side of me on the bedding and brushed a light kiss over the side of my neck, making my head tilt back in invitation. "I'll take as long as I want."
His teeth scraped my pulse point, and my breath caught in a sharp gasp. Dammit. Damn it all to hell. I wasn't even wearing any panties to destroy, but that alpha-male-asshole comment would have done it. As it was, my jeans and the snaps of my bodysuit were taking a solid soaking, and I gave zero shits. Cass seemed to know exactly what made me tick.
My back arched as his hands skated down the thin fabric of my body suit. I kicked my heels off as he flicked my jeans open like they were made of Velcro. Then he peeled them down my legs and tossed them across the room in one smooth, very practiced motion.
Cass paused then, his heated stare on my body and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
"Problem?" I taunted, running my own hands over my breasts to tease my hard nipples and let them show through the thin fabric. "Clock's ticking, Saint."
He huffed a short laugh. "Fuck your clock, Timber. You're a damn goddess, you know that?" His face dipped low again, and he dropped a teasing kiss at my collarbone. "The number of times I've pictured you like this..." His knee wedged between my legs, pushing them wider.
"Cass," I groaned, rolling my hips forward so that he’d be perfectly situated, if not for his jeans and my bodysuit. "Quit talking about it and show me."
A low, sexy laugh rumbled from his chest as he pulled away and sat back on his heels. "Such a smart mouth, Red. Makes me want to fuck it." He tugged his shirt off in a one-handed motion, and his ink-covered muscles rippled as his hands dropped to his belt.
I watched him eagerly as he unbuckled it, sliding it from the loops of his jeans slowly enough that it had to be for dramatic effect. As badly as I wanted to give him another quip about taking his damn time, I was mesmerized. I bet he knew how to use that belt for more than just holding his pants up.
He clicked his tongue at me when I licked my lips, a sly smile on his own. "All the times I pictured fucking you, Red, I never guessed what really turned you on."
I gave a small shrug, pushing myself up on my elbows to get a better view of his tattoos disappearing under his waistband. There was no need to offer up explanations; it was pretty damn obvious I was panting all over him right now. He'd thought I needed control in every area of my life—bedroom included. He’d been wrong.
Here... this was one place I was happy to step back. Or at least I was willing to give it a try. So far no one I'd slept with had been ballsy enough to even try and take charge, but I didn't think Cassiel Saint would have that issue.
"Take it off," he told me, nodding to my bodysuit. "As hot as that is, I wanna see you naked, Red."
No arguments here. The snaps holding it together opened with one swift tug, and a second later the garment hit the carpet beside the bed. Cass inhaled sharply.
"Well?" I coaxed when he did nothing but stare at my body sprawled across the bed in front of him. "You taking those jeans off or what?" Because I really wanted to see how far those tattoos extended.
Cass's eyes jerked back up to meet my hungry stare, and the corners of his mouth curved up. "Turn over."
I did as he asked, feeling a small part of my constant tension ease at the simple act of following a direction from him.
"Shit," he breathed, smoothing a rough hand along my bare back. I had a tattoo running down my spine, and he loosely traced the lines of it before grabbing a handful of my ass. "This ass..."
I arched my hips, wiggling my behind at him in invitation. Smack it, fuck it, I didn't care. I just wanted him to take whatever the fuck he wanted from my body. Use me, abuse me, make me forget my own goddamn name.
His weight shifted on the mattress, and I turned my face to watch him unzip his fly. Then my mouth went dry and I needed to swallow several times as he palmed his dick and met my eyes with a dark, hungry gaze.
"I bet that hurt," I murmured, breaking away from his stare to eye his inked cock.
Cass responded by stroking himself, his thumb highlighting the designs decorating the base of his shaft.
Then we both jerked when someone knocked loudly at the front door.
Cass's expression hardened with anger, and I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me.
"What the fuck is so funny, Red?" He leaned over me and bit my shoulder teasingly.
I smirked at him, then smacked a light kiss on his lips. "Sounds like reality is knocking. Time's up, Saint."
With a smooth motion, I rolled off his bed and swiped my clothes up in my hand. Whoever was at his door was knocking again, and I wasn't in the mood to lie there with my legs spread, desperate and waiting while he dealt with whoever it was.
Nope, that was the universe's way of reminding me that my life was already far too complicated without adding any extra dick to it.
"Get your fine ass back here right now, Timber," Cass ordered with a rumble of frustration underscoring his words. "We are not leaving it at that."
I snorted a laugh, totally at odds with the internal turmoil I was struggling to contain. "Yeah, we are." I turned to face him, then gave his hard dick a pointed look and licked my lips. "Guess you'll have to keep using your imagination." Goddamn, I did not want to go.
Some dark emotion flashed across his face, and he unfolded off the bed with the smooth grace of a shadow—or a reaper. "Don't you dare walk away. We're not even close to done." He seemed to pay no mind to whoever was at his door; his focus was on one thing and one thing only. Me... leaving.
Just because he’d told me not to, I opened his bedroom door and took a very deliberate step through it while flashing him a wide grin. "Moment's passed, Cass. You've got a visitor." I was still naked—there was no way I was actually running out of his apartment until I got dressed—but I couldn't pass the opportunity to push him.
"Fuck that," he rumbled, prowling after me with long strides. He caught me in just a couple of steps, grabbing my clothes from my hand and throwing them out of reach.
I arched a brow. "Really? That's your plan to stop me from leaving?"
He huffed another husky,
pure-sex laugh. Then he shoved me against the wall and kissed me until I was breathless and shaking. But whoever was at the door was determined and knocked again. When Cass wrenched his lips from mine to glare at the door, I took the opportunity to push him away.
I made it all of three steps before he caught me again, this time with his fingers tangled in my hair. A surprised yelp escaped my throat as he pulled me backwards against his hard chest with a twist of his wrist, tightening my hair around his fist and holding me prisoner.
"No, Red," he growled in my ear as he walked me forward. "I don't have to stop you because you don't want to leave. You just want me to take the decision out of your hands." His free hand caressed my bare belly, then dipped lower to stroke my throbbing pussy. His fingers spread me open as he pushed me into the wall right beside the front door. Right where this had all started. Except this time, someone was on the other side, knocking persistently like they urgently needed his attention.
I started to deny his accusation, but my words failed when he pushed two thick fingers into me, rough and demanding.
"Isn't that right, angel?" he murmured in my ear, then bit my lobe in a way that made me shudder with pure desire.
The knocking sounded again, louder this time. "Boss!" a man shouted through the door. "It's Roach."
Cass paused a moment, and I tried to wriggle free of his grip. That movement, though, only made him tighten his hold on my hair, jerking my head back to an almost painful angle. It gave him access to my lips, though, and he kissed me so hard I knew my lips would be swollen and puffy for hours.
I moaned as he roughly finger-fucked me, making me writhe and buck against his tight hold.
"Quiet," he growled in my ear with an edge of anger when he released my mouth. "I don't want my asshole second knowing what you sound like when you come."
"Boss!" Roach shouted again, accompanied with more knocking. "I know you're home and I'm guessing this is shit timing, but something's happened. It's urgent."
This time, Cass withdrew slightly, clearly considering what to do.
