Cassie's Hope (Riders Up)

by Kraft, Adriana

  The bra gave way beneath his practiced hands. He palmed each breast. Then he ducked to greet one with his mouth. Cassie nearly corkscrewed off his lap. He held her tight, running his tongue around the orb, ever so close but never quite touching its thickening tip. She scrunched forward, trying to thrust more of her breast into his mouth while grinding her pussy harder against his crotch, but Clint wouldn’t yield.

  In a war of wills, she finally caved in, allowing him his love torture. Just when she could stand no more, his tongue caressed a nipple. He pressed the aching flesh inward as if it were a button. It might as well have been. She soared through a misty universe seeking completion, embracing it under his adept guidance.

  He waited for her body to stop shaking. His muscles relaxed as hers stilled. He had no way of knowing that her soul was vibrating at its very core. “My god, my god,” she groaned, “why do I waste so much energy trying to resist you?”

  Not knowing she’d spoken aloud, Cassie was startled by his response. “Because you think too much. At least when we make love, you allow yourself to feel.”

  She hauled herself off his lap even though she felt like she carried the weight of an anvil. “Don’t let me think, then. Come on, lover. This bed has never had a man in it.”

  - o -

  “Wait,” Clint said, grabbing Cassie’s hand. “I want to finish undressing you.”

  “That’s fine,” she replied, standing before the bed and reaching for his belt, “and it looks like you could use some help, too. Somebody appears to be trapped.”

  Clint let her pull his zipper down and shove his Levis over his hips. He kicked the pants aside and her hands were inside his boxers, pulling them off and grabbing his cock at the same time. She’d driven him nearly crazy before sliding back and forth on his lap. Now she’d really entered the danger zone.

  He grabbed her hand to still her stroking. He kissed her nose. “You’re still ahead of me. Why don’t you work on the shirt with both hands while I figure out what’s holding this skirt together?

  Chuckling, Cassie said, “You might want to look for a side zipper and hook. That’s right. I’ll see what I can do with this shirt. Men’s shirts always seem to button backwards.”

  Tugging her skirt and panties down at the same time, Clint dispatched with them quickly. His chest tightened as he cupped her bare pussy in the palm of one hand. He’d never grow tired of that initial sensation of exuberance when he felt her inner heat warming his palm. “You’re already sopping wet.”

  “What did you expect?” she murmured against his bare chest. “I’ve been looking forward to this for days. If you want to determine my temperature, you might want to slip a finger or two in.”

  He didn’t need a second invitation. Placing one hand on her butt to help steady her, he slid one finger and then two into her wetness.

  “Yes,” she mumbled.

  “God, you’re on fire down there.”

  “More,” she moaned, squirming against him.

  With three fingers in her, Cassie rose on her toes and began rocking against them.

  He felt her entire body tighten.

  “Don’t make me do this alone,” she grunted, grinding against his fingers. “Finger-fuck me. Deep.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Clint flexed his fingers deep, drew back and sank them deeper.

  “Yes.” Cassie wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. “Do me. Hurry. I need to come. Make me come, Clint. Make me come.”

  Curling his fingers, Clint found her internal button. Within seconds, she crashed against him. He only waited for her breathing to settle slightly before withdrawing his fingers.

  Her eyelids fluttered open as if to protest.

  He lifted her easily. While she clung to his shoulders, he maneuvered her hips until his stiff cock found her opening.

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  With a single thrust, Clint entered her to the hilt. “Jesus,” he groaned. “So hot.”

  “So big. You fill me so good.”

  “Keep your arms around me tight and your legs loose. That’s right.” Cupping an ass cheek in each hand, Clint began to slide her back and forth along the full length of his cock.

  “Oh, wow.” Cassie shuddered and giggled. “I’m your push-me pull-me toy. You feel so good.”

  “Me? I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.” Clint kissed the top of her head and slowed his movements. “Perhaps we should take this to the bed. No, don’t move—let me.”

  Carefully he waddled the few feet to the bed. She wasn’t helping any by sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

  “My he-man,” she said, wiggling her frame against his.

  He settled her butt on the bed without breaking their connection and resumed sliding in and out of her.

  She raised her legs high in the air. “Welcome home. Give him to me, I want all of him.”

  “Christ, woman, you turn me on like no other.” Clint arched his back as Cassie raked her fingernails up and down his spine.

  “Don’t wait. Don’t hold back. Ride me like you would a runaway mare.”

  Heeding her advice, Clint began rocking back and forth. He swore her inner temperature rose a hundred degrees. Smiling as her green eyes rounded wide, loving what they reflected, he whispered, “It’s good to be home. I don’t want to ever leave.”

  His voice choked. Shaking his head, ridding himself of a sudden wave of melancholy, he moved deeper into the woman he loved with every ounce of passion he could marshal.

  She caressed his cheek, then fell back against the pillows and closed her eyes. He resolutely probed her internal volcano. Her inner muscles tightened. He gathered speed. She matched his pace, bucking up to meet him thrust for thrust. “Soon. Soon. Soon,” she cried out. “Don’t hold back. Fill me.”

  Clint moved beyond thinking, beyond remembering. He hurtled onward like a wayward tornado. After all the teasing, after all the foreplay, after all the days of waiting, he sensed his surge cresting, threatening to explode the circuits of his brain. He came in waves and then in spurts.

  She raised her hips, accepting, demanding. “Give it all to me. Don’t leave anything.”

  Her words were like spurs urging him on and on. His body had no mind, only this endless drive for completion. Each time he thought he was finished, his hips drove forward again, giving her more than he thought he had. He quaked, flexing his hips long after motion was necessary. Out of breath, out of energy, he collapsed, covering her. His tears graced her breasts. Her arms and legs folded around him, holding him in place.

  - o -

  Fully dressed, Cassie sat on the bed next to a sleeping Clint, dragging a hawk feather slowly across his chin and down his chest.

  Clint opened his eyes and snickered. His hand snaked out quickly and captured the feather, keeping her from moving it any lower. “No need getting me riled up again. By the looks of you, it must be about time to head up to the house.”

  Making a long face, Cassie replied, “I’d rather stay here and play in our little bordello, but,” she added lightly, “there are other responsibilities.”

  “Guess you’re right.” Clint paused. “What we just shared…incredible.”

  “I know.” Cassie didn’t like the catch in her voice. She wasn’t ready to elaborate on how incredible their lovemaking had been for her—or how it had opened her heart. Would she ever be the same? Were there other worlds yet to be explored? She’d soared so high and so far, maybe she’d seen them all. And then she’d been relentless, pushing Clint over the edge, beyond his comfort zone. He’d been so deep. She could still feel him pulsing in her depths. She hugged herself, thankful she was on the pill. “I’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, not even by you.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve never had a woman take me to that place before. I didn’t know if you were ever going to let me stop. And that was more than a thorough fucking.”

  “For both of us. I’m glad. I hope you are, too.”

  Pulling the sheet up over his
body, Clint sighed. “I don’t know what the tears were about. I’m not that type. I only remember tears on three other occasions. When my dad died. When my wife died. And when I was able to save the life of a young colt that the vet had given up on. No one ever saw me cry...before now.”

  Cassie sat on the edge of the bed and traced a finger across the sheet covering his chest. “That makes it even more special. I’ve been crying a lot more lately, myself.”

  “Maybe it’s a sign.” Clint placed her hand firmly between his. “I don’t want to lose you, Cassidy. I love you. I want us to share these kinds of moments, and all the other kinds, forever.”

  Cassie struggled to fend off the wave of panic suddenly washing over her. No way—she could never be a mother, ever.

  “Where are you at, Cass? On us?”

  His tone was insistent. He wanted a declaration she couldn’t give. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her shorts. Couldn’t he just be satisfied with what they had? Why did it even have to have a name?

  “This is no damn fling, Cassie. You got to know that by now. We’re way beyond that.”

  “I’m keenly aware of that.” Could he see her panic? Caught between this man she didn’t want to lose and a deep shame she hoped he’d never discover, Cassie couldn’t find words. Finally, she said, “That doesn’t make things easier. Sometimes I feel like I’m mired in quicksand.”

  Clint recoiled as if she’d slapped him.

  Cassie flinched. “Please don’t be angry—you mean so much to me, already, and the kids, too. I just don’t know how it would ever work.”

  She stroked his hand. “Clint, you’re moving too fast for me. I’m not ready for more. Not now.” She felt her voice constrict. “I don’t know if I ever will be—but I’m working on it. I hope that’s enough, for now.”

  Clint sighed and his expression softened. “We’ve got time, Cassie. It can work. If we want it badly enough.”

  The phone rang.

  “Okay,” Cassie said into the phone, “we’ll be right there. Thanks for the afternoon. See you shortly.”

  “That was Silver Hawk,” she said, shifting her attention back to Clint. “Supper’s about ready. And she claims we owe her one.”

  “I’m sure she does,” Clint drawled. “I’ll get dressed.”

  Cassie watched him climb out of bed and reach for his clothes still scattered across the floor. Was this an opportunity? “Tell me about the children’s mother. You said her death was one of the three times you cried. You must have loved her dearly.”

  He pulled a dark tee shirt over his upper torso and cast her a wary glance. “Yes, I loved her very much. I thought the moon and sun rose to bless her daily.”

  Cassie nodded. “Was she a full blood Ute?”

  “No. She was actually a little less than half Shoshoni. And then all those other things white folks tend to be,” he added, grinning a lopsided smile. “Julie was from the Wind River area in Wyoming. We met in college.”

  “In college?”

  “Yes, I went to college. At Weber State.”

  “What did you study?”

  “I have a degree in criminal justice. Thought maybe I wanted to be a detective, but I much prefer horses.”

  Cassie’s brow creased. “Well, I’ll be. Why don’t you ever tell me these things? Why do I have to pry your life story out of you?”

  “I just figured when you wanted to know, you’d ask.”

  “Damn, now I have so many questions, but we have to go to supper or Silver Hawk will send out flares and come in search of us. Don’t think you’re getting off easy though, bud. You are really fair game now. I’ll write my questions down on paper. And I won’t be put off until I get some answers. A detective?” she bantered, running a brush haphazardly through her hair. “I don’t think we would’ve met if you’d followed that route.”

  “There, you see? Now you know why I didn’t. Another question answered.”

  “So that’s why you’re so suspicious and seem to know something about investigating a crime.”

  “I imagine I’m naturally suspicious. I do have an old college buddy who runs a small private detective agency here in Chicago. We may want to tap into his skills at some point. He’d love to help. He’s always wanted me to be some kind of silent partner. So far I’ve resisted the temptation. I’m not sure horses and detective work mix.”

  “About as well as social work and horses, I suppose,” Cassie quipped. “Actually, right now we seem to need to be a little of everything.”

  “That’s often the case. I’m game for whatever as long as lovers is included in that list.”

  Giving him one last hug, Cassie said, “Okay, wise guy, enough for now. I think a couple kids may be feeling neglected. Let’s go see how firmly the two hellions have Dad wrapped around their little fingers.”

  Clint laced his fingers through hers and grazed her lips with his. “I’m pleased you’re not threatened by Julie.”

  “Why should I be? She’s still the children’s mother. I wouldn’t want anything or anyone to diminish her in their eyes.”

  “And you wonder why I love you?” Clint patted her rump as they made their way down the loft stairs. “Woman, you’re remarkable.”

  Giggling, Cassie raced happily down the steps. How could this be wrong for her—or for them?

  After the last dessert was eaten, after Clint had carried a sleeping Sammy to the car and taken his family back to the hotel, Cassie collapsed on the living room sofa. “Wow! What a day!” she said to her father. “The silence is soothing to the ears. How did you manage it?”

  “The nap helped. Maybe I hear too much silence as a rule being here by myself most of the time,” he said with a sly look. “You’re gonna have you hands full with them two. But I do hope you’ll want another one or two.”

  “Dad!” Cassie slouched lower on the sofa. “Everybody seems to be trying to make my mind up for me,” she complained. “It’s my decision.”

  “I know, girl. I didn’t mean to pressure you. But you are so good with Clint and the kids.” Tug chuckled lightly. “And I’m not getting any younger. Would like to know that Irish temper of yours is being passed along before I die.”

  Cassie scowled. “Right, no pressure. None at all.” She moaned and rubbed the back of her neck, watching her father’s dismay spread across his face. “It’s all right, Dad. I love you anyway.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned back into the comfort of the worn sofa. It had been a very good day. Her dad was right—she really did enjoy the kids.

  And detective Travers? No wonder he was so deliberate in seeking clues. She’d agreed to go by the group home with him Monday morning. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She’d been back only twice since she took leave. Would the kids at the home feel betrayed by her absence? Would she want to go back sooner than expected?

  She still had more than another six weeks of leave. Sometimes she wished she had a crystal ball. How would she feel about her job by then? Cripes, how would she feel about anything in another six weeks?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Nice location for your office,” Clint said Monday morning, sidestepping dog excrement as they made their way down the sidewalk to Cassie’s place of work.

  Cassie glanced around the familiar setting. The lot adjacent to her building sat vacant with bald tires, an old remnant of a box spring, and a variety of rusted cans strewn about. Its centerpiece was a burnt-out 1968 Impala. Papers of all shapes and colors were blown up against a chain link fence that obviously kept no one out or in.

  “I didn’t say this would be a scenic tour,” Cassie quipped as she climbed the steps ahead of him. She knew the large two-story house needed some cosmetic repair, but it was kept up well enough. Its owners leased out the building while trying not to put too much money into it. They hoped gentrification would get to them soon.

  As soon as Cassie stepped through the door, she was assailed by familiar scents and sounds. The place always smelled mildly of disinfect
ant, of too many bodies, especially in the summertime, and of some sort of pasta cooking in the kitchen. The hum of the place was the same. Bickering could be heard from upstairs, the crack of billiard balls came from downstairs, and tone-deaf Mrs. Hampton, in charge of the kitchen, droned along on an old gospel tune.

  Cassie and Clint made it no further than past the long second-hand leather sofa before being accosted by a deafening scream. “Cassie! You’re back! I need to talk to you.”

  A gangly young woman hugged Cassie until both gasped for air.

  “It’s good to see you too, Daisy. I’m just back on a visit today,” Cassie said, separating herself from the girl’s long arms. The girl looked even thinner than usual, and she’d been underweight back in the spring.

  “Oh, no. We need you here. Raul can be mean without you around.” The young girl looked bereft as she slouched before them in a white tank top and tattered bib overalls. Neither shoes nor socks adorned her feet. Apparently not knowing quite where to put her hands, she stuffed them inside her overalls.

  Cassie smiled. “Now, I doubt that a lot. Maybe I’m just a softy.”

  “Well, you listen better. And you don’t punish us for what others do.”

  “Daisy, you know that depends on how the group is taking responsibility. It’s good to see you, but I can’t stay and talk. I’ve got to see Raul about some things. Quickly, though, tell me how you’re doing with summer school?”

  “I was kicked out,” the girl complained, spitting out the words. Her eyes focused on the floor. “They didn’t like me.”

  “So that’s why you’re hanging out here. Do they have you working on your basic math skills? Is anyone helping you with your spelling? You have to get ready for the fall.”

  “Yeah, that’s happening. But it’s a pain in the butt. Maybe I won’t be here much longer. You know my sister’s been married almost a year now. They should be settled soon.”

  “You never know,” Cassie said gently. “Things change. We have to be prepared for things not to work quite like we hope they will.”