by Remy Rose
I can’t hold back. I close my eyes as she makes me explode, imagining I’m pounding inside her, fucking her hard…
Making her mine.
—don’t leave—
Fuck you, Leone. Fuck you and your weak thoughts. Keep this in perspective. Focus.
I pull up my boxes and jeans, prop myself on one elbow and brush the hair out of Cassandra's eyes with my free hand. “You were so good, sweetheart. And now it's your turn.” I shift my body so it lays partly on top of hers, pinning one of her legs beneath me.
She inhales shakily as my hand travels down her bare stomach to the top of her pants. I’m not going to waste any time. “I'm betting you're still wet for me. Am I right?”
A whisper. “Yes.”
“Good.” I ease her jeans down her thighs to reveal silky white panties trimmed in lace. Jesus, this young virgin look is making me horny all over again.
This time, I’m going to allow her to close her eyes and just enjoy my touch. I won’t overwhelm her with too much tonight. I slip a finger in the leg of her panties to lightly stroke her engorged lips. No touching her clit just yet; I’ll make her wait for now. The soft feel of her pussy makes me want to yank down her panties and bury my face between her legs...torment her with my mouth. But that will be another time.
I push a finger inside her wet opening, her pussy tightening in response. Tunneling it farther in, I watch her reaction. Her head is tipped back, eyes closed, fists gripping the fleece blanket. She moans, and I silence her with a quick kiss.
“Do you have any idea, Cassandra, how much I want to fuck you?”
Her breath is coming in short, quick gasps. “My God. Carlo, please...”
I grin and begin to circle her clit with my finger—lightly and slowly at first, till she’s writhing beneath me. Seeing a woman in this way, literally powerless with want, and knowing I’m in control of her is exhilaratingly erotic and completely addicting.
It’s basically what I live for.
My finger flicks over her clit. Cassandra is groaning now, her hands gripping my bare shoulders. She’s almost there. I’ll give her one more command tonight. “Ask me to make you come.”
“Carlo...Jesus, why are you—”
“Ask me to make you come, Cassandra, or I'll stop touching you.” I slow my strokes.
“Please...” Her voice is raw. “Please make me come, Carlo.”
I circle her clit again, faster and harder, and cover her mouth with mine, feeling the bite of her fingernails sinking into my shoulders as she cries out, quivering as she comes.
As Cassandra's breathing begins to slow, I slide myself down to lick the glistening skin between her breasts. She tastes pleasantly salty on my tongue. I fasten my lips around first one nipple, then the other, sucking gently until she’s gasping and squirming. Chuckling, I lay on my back beside her and release a contented sigh.
A deep, shuddery exhale from Cassandra. “My God, Carlo. That was...I can’t.”
“Good. You’re speechless.” I’m grinning as Cassandra gets to her feet, steps into her panties. I pull on my jeans and watch her bend over to collect the rest of her clothes, admiring the sexy, feminine curve of her back sloping into the firm, round shape of that killer ass. She notices me staring as she gets dressed and gives me a quick eye roll, sighing in mock exasperation while she pulls her hair back.
I pat the spot next to me on our makeshift bed. “Lay down with me.”
“I really should get home. Early day for me tomorrow, remember?”
“Lay down with me.”
Sighing again, she flops down unceremoniously, lying on her side to face me. “Do you ever take no for an answer?”
“No.” I grin and stretch my arms over my head, amused to catch her staring at my crotch. “Wishing he could come out and play again?”
“What? Oh my God, you’re just so...” She hastily averts her gaze and folds her arms across her chest, looking so adorable and embarrassed and indignant all at once that I start laughing. Her eyes slide over to meet mine, and then we’re both laughing.
It strikes me that this is one of the best parts of the night.
I look around the loft at the neatly-stacked bales and spot the fire extinguisher. “Ingrid still paranoid about barn fires?”
“Oh, yes. She's had me up here with the probe tester checking random bales for moisture, like every few days since we got the hay in.”
“Sounds like a wise idea. I know I always enjoy probing and checking for moisture.”
“Stop,” she protests, giggling.
“This place brings back some memories.”
“Other hayloft conquests?”
“None until you. I was thinking in terms of childhood memories. I was about eight when my stepfather bought the stable for my mom. Gianna and I used to play hide and seek up here. She'd dare me to climb to the very top of the stack, and of course I always did. Even though I was scared of heights.”
“I can't picture you being scared of anything.”
“I've overcome all my childhood fears. Except for one.”
Shit. That slipped out before I could stop myself.
Not surprisingly, Cassandra pounces on it. “And what's that?”
“I don't share that with anyone, sorry. Back to what I was saying about the memories of this place...I had some wonderful times here, but nothing will compare to tonight with you.”
She blushes, lowering her gaze. “Well...thank you. I have to say, you definitely know what you're doing.” A pause as she picks stray pieces of hay off the blanket. “Carlo...we didn't have sex tonight.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She’s disappointed. Good. “I have my reasons. There was still a little hesitation and resistance in you. Even though it was less than before, I need you completely ready for what I want to do with you, and you aren't. Not yet. There are certain...conditions that must be met in order for me to be with you.”
“What kind of conditions? And what do you mean by 'what I want to do with you?' Having sex with me?”
“I know I’m sounding secretive, Cassandra, but I don't want to say any more. Not right now. I’ve said it before—I'm not like other men. I'm complicated, and if you want to be with me, you'll need to accept that. I hope you can.”
“Complicated is actually the opposite of what I need right now.” She hesitates. “But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see you anymore.”
“I'm glad to hear that.”
“It's just...I respect that there are things you don't want to tell me. It's obvious you're a private person, and I totally get that, but I need to be able to trust you, Carlo. I've been hurt in the past, and I don't want to be hurt any more.”
Jesus. Something tugs at me then—like when you loosen up a tight, thick knot and can see light and space where you’ve pulled it apart. In the loft’s grayish light, Cassandra’s eyes are wide with her truth. She’s the picture of untarnished innocence, her expression so fucking earnest that I feel my throat close.
And then come the sharp barbs of guilt.
“I seriously need to leave, Carlo. Thank you for a very memorable night. I don't think I'll ever view this hayloft in the same way again.”
“Good. And I appreciate the new memories, too.” Buttoning my shirt, I replay what she just said: I don't want to be hurt any more. The last thing I want to do is hurt this girl. So I’ll take whatever steps are needed to keep that from happening—which includes keeping things from her.
I need to be able to trust you, Carlo.
Her eyes are on me, shining with what looks almost like hopefulness. I smile at her, making a silent apology for the promises I’ll be unable to keep.
chapter twenty-three ~ Cassandra
“I'm really glad we’re doing this,” Teal sighs blissfully, slathering sunscreen on her arms.
“By this, you mean 'nothing?'”
“Exactly. This is like my last hurrah before classes start.” She hands the bottle of loti
on to me. “Do my back, please. And take your time—I have some major tension knots.”
“You're being needy.”
“I know. And I wish I didn't have to use this goddamned stuff, but I burn so easy, I can just about feel the melanoma setting in.”
I squirt a glob of lotion in my hand and start rubbing it into Teal's upper back. We’re in bikinis, soaking up the end-of-August sunshine and eighty-five degree temperatures at Teal's apartment complex, sharing the pool with a pudgy bald guy in a Speedo who’s swimming laps.
Teal hunches over on the chaise lounge, her head drooping as I work the lotion in. “So what's the latest with Carlo? Did you end up seeing him Thursday night?”
“I did.”
“And...?”
“We met at Bull Feeney's for drinks. And then we met somewhere else.” I try to hide my smile.
“Tell me!”
“The hayloft of Windswept.”
“Seriously? The hayloft?! My God, that’s so fucking sexy.”
“It was, actually.”
“Was it hot up there? I mean, I know it was hot hot, but were you like all sweaty?”
“No. It was just right. The loft windows are always open.”
“Okay, I have to ask...how big was he?”
My cheeks flame. “Teal! Jesus.”
“Well?”
“Out of respect for Carlo's private parts, I will decline to answer.”
Swinging her legs around to stretch out on the lounge chair, Teal narrows her eyes. “He was big, wasn't he?”
I pause. I can’t help myself. “Huge.”
“Oooh! I knew it.” She opens the small cooler beside her and takes out two Twisted Teas, holding one out to me, her face glowing with the anticipation of hearing more. “So was it amazing? It was like the best you've had, wasn't it?”
Ughh...I’m not sure how to answer this, because I know Teal is going to be all over the fact that Carlo and I didn't have sex. It’s going to be hard to try and explain since I don’t understand it myself. “So we didn't actually do it, but what we did do was amazing.”
Teal's forehead is wrinkled in confusion. “Wait...you didn't fuck him?”
“No.”
“But did you want to?”
“I was a little nervous about it, but yeah. I did.”
“Was he into it?”
“Totally.”
“I don't get it. You were alone in a hayloft with a gorgeous guy who clearly wants you, and you didn't fuck? What is this, eighth grade?”
“Teal. Believe it or not, there are some people who wait a little bit to do it.”
“Agreed. But you have waited—you guys already had a little pre-game action that night at his house. Don't you think this is kinda weird?”
I shrug. “I don't know...maybe. Carlo isn't like other men. He told me he didn't think I was quite ready. I felt ready, believe me, but he said he wants to see certain things in me before we can do it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why is he making you wait?”
Okay, this is starting to stress me out. Not only because I don’t have the answers to Teal's questions, but because it feels too personal, too private to be talking about this, even though Carlo didn’t ask me not to share. Plus, Teal’s been all about wanting me to date him, and now she’s acting like maybe it’s not such a good idea. “Hey. Aren't you the one who keeps telling me to give him a chance?”
She flings an arm across her face to shield the sun and squints at me. “Yeah. You're right...sorry. I'm just trying to figure out what he wants from you.”
You and me both, girlfriend.
Teal rummages through the cooler, holds up a snack-sized bag of corn chips and tosses it to me. “Here—this'll make you love me again.”
I pull open the bag and begin to crunch. “How's your sex life, anyway?”
“It's fanfuckingtabulous. Garrett's kind of an exhibitionist, which I have decided is way cool. We had a little romantic getaway the other night in Harrisburg and did it in the hotel elevator.”
“So he's quick.”
“He can be. Depends on the mood.”
I flash back to the way Carlo touched me—slow, deliberate, tantalizing. And now I’m tingling. I sink back in the lounge chair, tipping my face to the sun. In seconds, I’m fantasizing about his mouth on my breasts...then drifting down my belly and nestling between my thighs...oh, God...imagining how it would feel to have him inside me, filling me up...
I’ve never been this preoccupied with sex before. Then again, I’ve never enjoyed it this much or had someone who turns me on the way Carlo does. It’s so powerful, the way I’m drawn to him. It goes way beyond his Adonis-like appearance and charm. It’s also that penetrating gaze with those surprisingly soulful eyes. It’s his voice that changes in an instant from rough and commanding to soothing, almost tender. It’s the constant seesawing of emotions he brings out in me: making me feel timid, then daring... confused, then captivated...insecure, then protected. He shakes me up and lets me settle, like the crystals inside a snow globe—and then shakes me up again.
And I think he knows exactly what he’s doing.
He wants to have sex with me—I do know that. But there’s something more he wants, or needs, from me, and he’s being purposefully ambivalent about it. Maybe—hopefully—things will become clearer with time, but for now, he’s keeping me in the dark. As long as I’m in this state of uncertainty, I’m going to be unbalanced and therefore more susceptible to what he wants. And as shocking as it is to admit, I’m more than okay with it.
chapter twenty-four ~ Carlo
Brock and I are meeting to finalize plans for the sales meeting in San Antonio when he slides a box across the oak conference table and leans back in his chair. “Check this out.”
I open the cardboard flaps and take out what appears to be a digital alarm clock. “A clock?”
Green eyes glittering, Brock holds up his index finger. “There's more to it than that, my friend. Read the insert.”
What the fuck is he up to now? I unfold the paper inside the box and skim. Recon night vision alarm clock cam. Jesus. I look up at Brock's smirking face. “Well. This is certainly discreet.”
“I know, right? And just four hundred bucks. I found a couple others disguised as an electrical outlet and a smoke detector. If you're interested, I can send you the links. I thought we'd liven things up a bit and do video this time, rather than still shots. With your consent, of course.”
Something inside me clenches. “Liven things up? Like it isn't stimulating enough already? You never cease to amaze me, Dall. Video seems like it's crossing a line.”
Brock snorts. “A line? I think we've crossed more than a few of those.”
“This is true. But you and I haven't been in the photos—it's just been the women.”
“What are you, playing modest now? We've seen each other in the locker room, for Christ's sake. Besides, I'm not exactly going to focus on you when I watch the video. And we can destroy the evidence afterwards, just like we usually do.”
“I'll think about it.” The idea of Brock seeing pictures of Cassandra in a compromising position is nauseating enough, but showing him a video of the event feels almost obscene. Still...it’s not like I can protest without coming across as sounding emotionally invested in her. Dall would be all over that, and I have enough shit on my mind without him adding to it. Got to suck it up and treat this like the spirited competition it’s always been.
Brock is studying me almost suspiciously. “I thought you'd like the video idea. And I'm getting the impression you aren't as into this particular one as you have been the others.”
“You caught me off guard. A video is a lot more intimate and intrusive than a photo. But I can see the advantages—you'd be able to get the full effect.”
“Nothing was as intrusive as the time we had adjoining hotel rooms and had a quick viewing session.” Brock laughs. “That was one wild fucking night.”
“Some al
cohol involved on our part.”
“And quite a bit of luck, getting them both available and in the hotel the same night. I believe I won that round, didn't I?”
“I'm still not convinced she wasn't inebriated.”
“Hey, I follow the rules, friend—a one drink limit for the women. She was sober, I'm telling you. What can I say...she was totally into it, hot candle wax and all.” Brock gets up from the table and goes to the water cooler. “Look. The video kicks it up a notch. The phone pictures were fine at the beginning, but that's getting old. Plus, there's no need to blindfold when you have a hidden camera.” He fills his cup and drinks thirstily, then snaps his fingers and points at me. “Just thought of another idea...I'm on a roll. What do you say to actually meeting each other's conquests this time?”
Christ. What the fuck? “We usually just share photos of them.”
“Which we haven't done yet.” Crumpling his cup and tossing it in the trash can, Brock walks back to the table. His face is bright, eager. “I propose we schedule a time to meet, and do it soon. No pressure, but I'm sensing I'm getting close to the finish line. She's practically begging me to fuck her.”
“What possible reason would there be for a face-to-face meeting?”
“Same reason for doing video instead of photo. Make things more interesting...check out personalities, see who might be more of a challenge. Just make it part of the contest.”
Brock isn’t going to back down—this, I’m sure of. Once the man gets an idea in his head, he’s relentless. As much as I can’t stand the thought of of Brock meeting Cassandra, I feel like I’ve got to agree to it. I need to show him—and more importantly, myself—that this is just another contest. “All right. I'm hosting an engagement party for my sister and her fiancé in a couple of weeks. I'll invite you, and your...date.”
“Gianna's getting married? Damn, I thought I might have a chance to be your brother-in-law.”
“I think we both know that never would have happened.”
“You're right. I enjoy my bachelorhood, and you love your sister too much to let her get entangled with the likes of me. So when's the party?”
