My father is a tall and solidly built man, and I’ve driven him around with no problem.
“I didn’t have that far to go, so I left the crutches at home.” He pauses in thought before glancing back at the bar. “Maybe I can get a ride from Gina.”
A frosted laugh puffs out of my mouth. “Now that I want to see.” When he eyes me with confusion, I add, “Gina rides a Harley.”
He stares at me in disbelief. “In this weather?”
“What can I tell you? She’s a badass. Plus, she lives upstairs over the bar.”
“Maybe I’ll just call Mark.”
Mark is Fletcher’s best friend.
“I heard he moved to Asheville. That’s thirty minutes away. Stop acting like a grumpy old man and just get in the car.”
I open the door and hold out a hand. He resentfully takes it. It’s almost comical how low he has to bend before he tries to fold himself into the seat. As funny as it is, I make sure he doesn’t put undue stress on his leg.
“I can’t move the seat back. Where’s the button?” he complains.
His one leg is still outside of the car, and I have to lean over and in between his legs to reach under the seat.
“Sorry, Fletch,” I say begrudgingly. “We’re all not rich like you. I could only afford the base model, so you’ll have to remember how to push the seat back.”
His hand lands on the back of my head. “I have the sweetest memories of you positioned like this.”
When I yank my head up to glare at him, I bang the crap out of it under the console.
“Dammit,” I spew, as he continues to smirk at me.
I’m stuck between wanting to hurt him and not wanting to because of my job. His hand covers mine as I feel for the goose egg surely there. His eyes soften on mine, and I stare at him a moment to long until a gust of wind reminds me it’s not summer. I pull back out of the car, losing contact with him. I focus on his leg and gently help him get his braced knee into the car. Watching him contort into a pretzel lightens my mood. I do my best to suppress a laugh before I close the car door. He says nothing, but he’s lost the smirk in favor of a one-sided curl to his lip in a snarl that says more than enough.
When I turn on the car, Shania Twain blasts through the speakers as if she were pulling out the words from my head. It was something about what doesn’t keep her warm in the middle of the night.
The drive isn’t that long, and the song ends just as I pull up to the remarkable farmhouse. It’s always been the envy of everyone in town. It’s a stately looking two-story farmhouse with a wrap-around porch and many windows to let in light.
“Nothing ever did impress you,” Fletcher murmurs.
The temperature in the car takes a nosedive, and it has nothing to do with the air outside. Therefore, watching him uncurl himself from my car isn’t as funny as it should have been.
“Thanks,” he mutters once he’s out.
The door shuts, and I feel like I should say something. In fact, when he stumbles, I jet out of the car, realizing my mistake for not helping him out in the first place. But I’d been lost in his big brown eyes, which looked so innocent when I knew differently.
“Are you okay?”
He glares at me. “I would have been better off walking home.”
When he rubs at his knee, I tuck myself under his arm and help support his weight. Together, we make it to the house. Once inside, I’m hit with a wave of memories.
“I can do it.” He tries to shrug me off.
“Where are you headed?” I ask, remaining as stubborn as he is. If he’s going upstairs, I’m going to help him get there. I can’t have the big guy fall and rupture his knee again on my watch.
“Now?” After I nod, he says, “I’d planned to eat, but that’s not in the cards anymore, is it?” When I don’t respond, he continues, “I’m going upstairs to take a hot bath and hope that my knee loosens up. If you’re not planning to play nurse and give me a sponge bath, you can go. You’ve done enough.”
“Play nurse? You either sound five and I’m past playing doctor or you’re eighty and need a nursing home.” He just glares at me. “Besides, I’m sure one of your millions of groupies you have on social media would love to play nurse with you.”
Fletcher
One thing hasn’t changed—Cassie’s ability to give me a snarky response. Instead of it pissing me off, it does the opposite. I find myself reminiscing about our days back when and how she used to make me laugh. I must have a goofy grin on my face because of her next question.
“You think that’s funny? That I’m joking?”
“Not at all. I happen to like your spunk.”
“Spunk? I basically tell you to get your groupies to help you out, and you like that?”
Rolling my good shoulder back, I lift it a little. “What can I say? I missed that about you.” I head up the stairs, one by one, because there’s nothing left to add.
When I’m midway up the flight, she says, “Hey, you need some ice, too.”
I don’t bother turning around. “You know where the freezer is. The baggies are in the drawer right where they always were.”
The large whirlpool tub that Mom insisted on adding upstairs is at the end of the hall. At this point, I don’t give a shit if Cass sees me naked. My luck—what luck? There is no such thing for me anymore. She can deal with it or not. I don’t really give a fuck at this point. The chances of her staying are slim either way. One thing I know for sure now is that she’s just as unattached as I am. And that thought warms me more than the water I fill the tub with. As I strip to my skivvies, my knee aches like a motherfucker. I take a seat and wait for the water level to reach the point where the jets can be turned on.
Footsteps precede her voice. “Fletcher, you need to—”
She’s not looking at my face. Or my chest. Or my shoulder for that matter. Her gaze is targeted on what lies between my legs. And, dammit, that stupid fucker decides to betray me and stiffens to poke his head out of the water in order to stare back at her. One-eyed fuck. He and I are going to have a little chat after she leaves. Or maybe some hand-to-hand combat. First, I have to deal with her.
“What do I need, Cass?”
“Uh, yeah … uh,” she swallows, “you need to ice.”
She’s still not looking at my face as I say, “Hey, will you look at me for one minute? Unless you want to take a ride. Someone would be more than happy to give you one.” Traitor.
“Huh?”
“Christ. When was the last time you got laid?”
That gets her attention.
“That is none of your business. When was the last time you got laid?” Her voice takes on a snappy tone as she throws my question back at me. But at least her attention is off my goods. Maybe the little fucker will lie back down like a good boy. The truth is, I haven’t gotten any action in far too long, but she doesn’t need to know that. There haven’t been many since her because the few I did have never came close to what stands before me at the present time.
“Can we start from scratch? Like this whole night?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
A frustrated sigh leaves me. “I don’t want it to be like this between us.”
I expect a snappy response, but that’s not what I get. “I don’t really either. But after you dumped me—”
What is she saying? “I didn’t dump you. I had to leave to go with the pros.”
She looks at me like she wants to say duh.
“Yeah, you dumped me for the pros.”
My hand drives through my hair. “That’s not how it went. I had to leave, and you were supposed to come.”
That one word has me harder than I thought possible. She speaks, but I’m barely coherent to what she’s saying.
“I had to finish college. Then there was PT school, my dad, and I couldn’t possibly go.”
Reaching out, I take her wrist and pull her closer. Her eyes widen, making her look like a doe in the middle of the road. A
nd, damn, if that doesn’t make her my prey.
The words crawl out of my mouth like a growl. “Take your clothes off and get in this tub with me.” I shut off the water and push the button to get the jets running. This is a dead-end conversation, like it will always be.
Her head shakes, sending all that hair I want to wrap around my hand flying.
“You’re crazy.”
“Maybe.” I haven’t let go of her wrist, determined to convince her to stay. “Everyone’s entitled to a little crazy. Why’d your marriage break up?”
She pins her lower lip under the top one, looking unsure of how she should answer.
“He cheated on me.” Her words are soft, but I hear them well enough.
Splashing the water around, I ask, “Is that the only reason?”
When she doesn’t answer, I give her hand a slight tug. “Take your clothes off, Cass, and get in here.”
“I might hurt your knee.”
“Chicken.” I splash her with some water.
She jumps back, and I lose my hold on her. “Fletcher, you got me wet.”
Her eyes narrow as my grin widens. “That’s the idea.”
She shakes her head and half-smirks. “Fletcher, we haven’t been with each other in, how long?”
“Too long, but not long enough for me to forget what we had.” The words slip out before I can catch them and cram them back into my mouth. I had meant to say it was since draft day when I ultimately changed the course of our lives. She had to stay—her father was sick at the time and things weren’t looking good. She didn’t want to be that far away from him. Then, when things settled down, and she graduated, she waffled because Oklahoma was halfway across the country. That’s when the arguing began. I naïvely thought we could work through it, but things escalated, and ugly words were exchanged. Things were said neither of us most likely didn’t mean—at least that was true in my case. Finally, I ended up losing the best thing that ever happened to me. At the time, I thought it was football. I was dead to rights wrong. But when I figured it all out, she had moved on and wouldn’t even speak to me. And I couldn’t blame her. We both chose different paths.
Eyes like heated caramel striated with moss green and swirled with milk chocolate melt the frost that’s held my heart prisoner for all these years. I’m not sure which one of us is more surprised when she drops her jacket on the floor. Her sweater follows, then her jeans. All that remains are her bra and thong. She looks like my best dream, the one I have when I’ve over imbibed. I’d pinch myself if it didn’t make me look like a moron. And she already thinks I’m one so I don’t need to give her more reminders.
“Jesus, Cass, you …” I have to swallow because I’m afraid I’ll drool if I don’t. “You are so beautiful.”
She reaches behind her and the bra slides off her arms, falling to the floor. Her tits are better than I remember. Full and begging for my mouth. I want to suck the hell out of them, but I’m sidetracked when the tips of her fingers tuck under the elastic of her panties and tug them down her long, luscious legs. She steps over the tub and kneels between my legs.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat your dinner?” she asks.
“Oh, I’m going to eat all right. It’s just not going to be chicken wings and French fries tonight.”
My hands cup her face, and I pull her toward me. When she’s an inch from my mouth, all I can think of is how much I’ve missed this. “I can’t wait to taste that pretty mouth of yours. I’ve waited too long for this.”
One thing I don’t expect is Cassie’s sexual hunger. She’s every bit as eager as me, and it surprises us both. The kiss explodes as we crash into each other. Initially, our movements are clumsy, teeth clashing and lips bruising. But then, things become more attuned as we explore and reacquaint ourselves with what we’d lost. Hasty becomes languid; clumsy becomes adept, until we are both lusting for each other and for precious oxygen. It’s gotten to the point where I want to seat her on my damn cock, because if I don’t do something soon, I’m going to look like I’m fourteen. But I need to get her ready first. And there’s a slight problem. I can’t lift her up because I only have one shoulder, and I can’t kneel because of my fucking leg.
My little savior rescues me. She slides up on the side and asks, “You did say you wanted dinner, didn’t you?”
“Are you a mind reader?”
“What do you mean?”
“I was trying to figure out how I was going to do this with one bad shoulder and one bad knee.”
“Yeah, I figured you needed a plan.”
Staring me in the face, well almost, is her smooth as silk pussy. I don’t need another invitation before my mouth hits the goal. I carefully drape her leg over my sore shoulder, and my tongue does exactly what I remember we both love. I bury it inside her and run it around her clit, over and over, until her legs tighten around me. She makes the sweetest sounds when she comes, and, damn, I’ve missed that.
“Your pussy is so pretty, all pink and glistening.” Now I have to tell her the bad news. “I hate to break this to you, but my condoms are downstairs.”
“I’m on the pill.”
“You trust me? With all my groupies?”
Her eyes widen, and I’m sure I’ve ruined the moment. But it has to be thrown out there.
“How many, Fletcher?”
“Honestly?” She nods. “Three,” I admit. “But none in a while.”
Her lips move together as though she’s forming a W. Then she says, “I don’t understand. The media.”
I offer her a sad smile. “I suppose you believe everything the media throws at you. They want me to be that guy. I’m not. Never have been.”
She slides off the side and into the water. “You get tested, right?”
“All the time. We have to.”
“I was tested after the dipshit I was married to cheated on me. I haven’t been with anyone else.” Her arms wind around my neck, and she kisses me. “I want you, Fletcher.”
Then she’s moving. Her hips situate above me. We stare at each other while she slides down the length of my cock, slowly but surely. It must have truly been a long time for her because she’s as snug as our first time together. And it’s damn righteous.
My hands wrap around her ass cheeks, and I commence to lift and lower her to a rhythm that I control. She’s tight wrapped around me, and I make sure it’s good for her.
“Tell me what you need.”
“This,” she breathes.
I slide one hand between us to make sure she gets hers because I’m close. Almost too close. I hope this is where it all comes together for her, no pun intended. Once those inner muscles of hers grab my cock and squeeze, I can’t hold on any longer. I pump her harder, and my orgasm explodes like a cannon. When she squeezes me dry, I lift my lids to find her staring at me. That’s when my nerves fire.
Her soft hand touches my face, and I relax. “Whatever happened with us, Fletch? I thought we had it all and then—”
“I was stupid. Maybe we both were. I didn’t read the smoke signals you were sending. My excitement over what was happening overrode everything else, and I just couldn’t get why you didn’t want to move that far away when it was only a plane ride from here.”
“But my dad and school. And then we were like dominos tumbling.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t understand everything being in the pros entailed. It was eye-opening for sure. But I’m happy to see you got your PT degree.”
A rueful smile curves her mouth. “School was important, but I think it was … never mind. You’ll think it’s dumb.”
Taking her hand, I rub circles on top and say, “No, tell me. I need to know this.”
“I was also scared you’d be more attracted to someone else. You know, famous football player and all. And here I was just a small-town girl from the mountains.”
And doesn’t this make me feel like the biggest piece of shit.
Cassidy
There is a lot of awkward
silence after that. I get out of the tub and try to dry off quickly. I have to help him out, which gives him a chance to snag me before I can run. The weirdness doesn’t stop him from finding his way inside me again on top of his bed. And, damn, if I don’t let him and ride out the pleasure he offers me.
Later, wide awake with his arms around me, I can see how easy it would be to fall. Fall maybe even harder than the first time. We’d been kids, foolishly thinking we had forever. But we didn’t. Now, we’re both older and a little wiser. And maybe we’re a little more jaded, too.
His even breathing doesn’t change when I decide to make a break for it, only to realize his truck is still in town.
Still, I slide out of bed and get dressed. When I open his bedroom door, the dogs are right there in the hall and perk up when they see me.
“Come on, boys,” I whisper.
I easily find the dog food, having spent much of my time here over the years. The nostalgia hurts more than it warms my heart. I fill their bowls, not knowing when the last time they ate because Fletcher hadn’t fed them when he’d come home. I also give their water bowls a refill. But Boomer, I think it is, wags his tail at the door, so I let him out and step out into the chilly night. Brady follows, or it’s the other way around. It’s still dark, and I wrap my arms around me, enjoying the bite the night air provides. It gives me more clarity about my dumb choice to sleep with a man I’d loved. I have to work with him, and this will only complicate things.
Not long after, a blanket covers my shoulders, and I crane my neck to see Fletcher.
“I wondered where you went. It’s the middle of the night.”
The dogs sniff out their spots, and I struggle with what to say. He makes his own conclusions from my silence.
“You were leaving, weren’t you?”
No point in denying the truth. I turn and meet his eyes. “Yes, but then I remembered your truck. And the dogs, they needed out.”
“Cass, don’t deflect. We shared an incredible night, didn’t we?”
Sidelined: A Wilde Players Dirty Romance Page 3
