Never with a Rich Man

by Tina Susedik

  Time and the changing fall scenery flew by while they discussed and argued the finer points of each team. When Hogan slowed down to comply with a new speed zone, Cassie pointed to a green road sign.

  “Alaska? Where on earth are we?” she asked, frowning.

  “Oops, guess I made a wrong turn,” Hogan answered, holding back laughter. “How did we end up in Alaska?”

  “You made a wrong turn? Guess I’m not the only one with a bad sense of direction.”

  “Saying I made a wrong turn is an old family joke. We went on a lot of trips when I was a kid. Every so often we’d go through a town with the same name as a more famous place.”

  “These small towns remind me of one of our family sayings,” Cassie said.

  Hogan sped up after going past the tiny burg. “What’s that?”

  “It’s all right to hold your breath going through this town. It’s so small, you won’t pass out from lack of oxygen.”

  Hogan joined in her laughter. “There are plenty small burgs like this in the state. We used to say, ‘Don’t blink, you might miss it’.”

  “So tell me some places where your father took a wrong turn.”

  Cassie enjoyed watching Hogan’s strong profile while he considered her request. He chewed on his bottom lip, giving her an occasional view of his teeth. Her body began responding to thoughts of what those teeth would be nibbling tonight. Itching to caress his skin, she gave into temptation and ran the backs of her fingers across his smooth cheek. By nightfall, would she encounter stubble? Again, her body quivered at the vision of his rough cheek rubbing against her breasts.

  He squirmed in his seat. “You’d better stop that.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop moving your fingers on my face.”

  Cassie hid a smile. Hogan seemed to be getting as turned on by her simple gesture as she was. “Why?” she asked with an innocence that wouldn’t have fooled a gullible man, and she didn’t think Hogan was gullible.

  “You know damn well why. You’re making me horny and it’s giving me a lead foot. I have a feeling the guy in front of us wouldn’t appreciate my driving over the roof of his car.”

  “Oh,” was the only response she came up with. They were a little too close to the vehicle in front of them. Before she moved her hand away, he pressed a kiss against her fingers.

  “We’ll have plenty of time later,” he whispered, his voice deep, carrying more than a hint of seduction.

  Cassie’s breath caught in her throat. She folded her hands primly in her lap in an attempt to stop their shaking or, if she were truly honest with herself, to keep from making him stop the car to the side of the road and have her way with him. Taking a deep, shaky breath she watched Lake Michigan appear and disappear through gold and scarlet trees lining the side of the road. “So, tell me more about those lost cities.”

  Hogan’s shaky breathing echoed her own. His brows drew down. “What lost cities?”

  “Hogan? You know, the places where your father got lost.”

  “Oh yeah. Right. We didn’t actually get lost, he and my mom just pretended we did. As we passed through towns with names from other cities, they pretended we were in the famous places and gave my brother and two sisters a history and geography lesson. All in fun, of course. For instance, Athens, Wisconsin. We were in Athens, Greece, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Then there’s Avalon, Bangor, Batavia, Brussels . . .”

  “You were in Europe then?”

  “You bet.” His smile grew with the memories. “We have Cazenovia . . .”

  “Sounds like a famous lover.”

  “Like me?”

  “If you want to pretend.”

  Hogan chuckled. “Then there’s Germantown. Dad would have us all pretend we were swimming in the ocean to get to Germany. We puffed out our cheeks like fish and moved our arms like guppies.”

  Cassie giggled at the picture he painted. “Must have been interesting for people passing by to see.”

  “Probably,” he smiled. “The one I still get teased about is El Paso.”

  “Why El Paso?”

  “When I was six or seven we drove through El Paso, Wisconsin. Jason, my brother, who was a real tease, decided to pretend we had entered Texas for real. In my six-year-old mind I really could see oil pumps and cactus and long-horned steers. I could also see my grandparents’ house. Just the year before, we had visited them in Texas.”

  “Oh-oh.”

  “Yeah, oh-oh. I really thought we were going to see Grandma and Grandpa. I kept my face plastered against the window searching for their place for half an hour before Jason finally told me, and not very nicely, that we were in Wisconsin, not Texas. It took a long time for my tears to dry.”

  Cassie heart melted for the little boy who simply wanted to see his grandparents. “What did your parents do?”

  Hogan grinned. “It’s amazing what restorative powers an ice cream cone can have on a six-year-old. The best part was Jason didn’t get one. To this day when the family knows I’m going on a trip, I inevitably hear ‘So, are you going to El Paso?’”

  “How long did it take you to be able to laugh about it?”

  Hogan tugged on his bottom lip. “Until last year.”

  Cassie thought he was serious until she saw the corners of his mouth turn up. “Oh, you!” She smacked him on the shoulder.

  In the following companionable silence, Cassie watched farms with tall, blue silos standing majestically next to old-fashioned concrete silos with shiny tops reflecting the bright fall sun. Barns, weathered from red to mottled gray, showed the decline of generations of family farms. One dilapidated barn was so covered in green and raspberry-colored ivy Cassie figured the vines were the only things holding it together.

  Signs advertising cherry and apple orchards started appearing. Large maple, oak, and pine trees were replaced with shorter trees, many showing splotches of red. A scent of fermenting apples wafted through the car’s air vents. More orchard signs whizzed by before it finally dawned on Cassie where they were headed. Excitement swept through her as dim memories wove themselves through her mind.

  “We’re going to Door County, aren’t we?” she asked.

  “So you finally figured it out?”

  “I told you I was bad with directions. We could have been heading for El Paso, Texas, for all I knew.”

  Hogan grinned at the reference to his story. “That would be south. We’re going north, remember? Have you ever been up here?”

  Cassie closed her eyes. “I have a memory of coming here with my parents. I vaguely recall my father driving our car onto a boat. I was terrified he was going to drive right off the end.” Cassie turned to Hogan and snapped her fingers. “Oh, and I remember a building with grass growing on the roof. Goats or something were walking right on top, eating the grass.”

  “You’re in the right place. It’s a big attraction in Sister Bay.”

  “Is that where we’re going, Sister Bay?”

  Hogan took the by-pass around Sturgeon Bay. As they passed wineries and wayside stands selling apples and vegetables, he answered, “We’re going further up the peninsula. In fact, we’re going about as far to the tip as we can. We’re staying at a cabin just south of Gills Rock. It’s been in my family for three generations. When I was a kid we’d come here every summer for a month and on as many weekends as Dad could get away. Now I only make it up here few times a year.”

  Cassie’s nerves fluttered in her stomach at the mention of his family. “Will your family be there this weekend?” she managed to squeak out. She would die of mortification if they were and knew she was sleeping with their son.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll have it all to ourselves. Mom and Dad came last week, and since school has started, ev
eryone else has returned to their homes. During the summer, though, the place is hopping with family.”

  Her quivering stomach muscles eased. Antique shop after antique shop passed by her window, amazing her at the ingenious variety of buildings used to house the old and discarded belongings of generations of settlers. They ranged from fancy antique malls to old barns, gaily decorated Victorian homes to lawns full of junk only good enough for a dump. She thought about the things people from the past used as every day tools now being shown and touted as treasures. She wondered if they would have time to dig through some of the relics for furnishing her house.

  Like a large canopy bed, high enough from the floor, a person would need a stool to mount. With a mattress two people could get lost in while making love. Curtains on the sides to shut out the world and muffle the sounds of passion. Even if she couldn’t afford to buy one right now, Cassie decided to make it her goal to try and find one this weekend. A woman could dream.

  Hogan wanted to look at Cassie, but needed to focus on the heavy weekend traffic. She’d grown quiet since he mentioned the family cabin. Was she still worried his family may be there? Was she regretting her decision to come with him?

  “It’s all right, honey. It’ll just be the two of us.” Over and over, Cassie curled a strand of hair around her finger while she worried her bottom lip. He eased up on the gas pedal to maneuver down the hill going into Sister Bay.

  The town, as with the others they passed through, had streets lined with open shops, hoping to catch late season tourists. Year-round homes, many turned into bed and breakfasts, nestled in manicured lawns filled with century-old trees. Hogan barely noticed his surroundings, his concern for Cassie overriding what was normally an interesting drive.

  “Are you okay?”

  Cassie’s smile when she turned from her window settled his nerves.

  “I’m fine. Just daydreaming about the goodies hidden behind those shop doors.”

  Hogan stifled a groan. Crap. A shopper. He hated shopping, unless it was for old things like train sets and miniature toys. “You like to shop?” he asked, fearing her answer. He didn’t want to spend his entire time with her going from boutique to novelty shop.

  “Normally, no, but all these antique places make me itch to browse and dig for treasures like a pirate.” She paused as her eyes grew wide. “Why? Do you like to shop?” Her voice rose an octave.

  He laughed. Thank goodness they were on the same page. “No, but I’ve been known to spend an hour or two antiquing myself. If you want, we can hit a few antique stores.” Maybe going through them would give him an opening to question her about Angelino’s activities.

  “That would be great,” she answered. “But. . .” Cassie put a hand on his thigh. “. . . I hope that’s not what we do the whole weekend.”

  “Cassie,” Hogan raised an eyebrow, “I’m in a 25 mph speed zone, and hate like hell to get a ticket. I’d have a hard time explaining to a cop I was speeding because I was horny or hit a parked car because my girlfriend had me all hot and bothered.”

  “Maybe the officer would be understanding and just sentence you to a weekend in bed with me,” she answered, her voice ripe with promises he hoped she would keep.

  Hogan squirmed and wondered if cruise control worked at twenty-five miles an hour. It was the only way he was going to be able to keep control of his speed. “Cassie . . .” he warned again.

  “Oh, all right. I’ll behave.” She sighed, and after a few moments, she turned to him. “Are we there, yet?”

  Hogan groaned. The woman had a one-track mind, albeit the same track his was riding on. Thank heavens. On the outside, Cassie acted prim and proper, hands folded in her lap, but Hogan knew a passionate woman was hidden beneath the surface. He was just glad he’d found out about it before some other man did. The tightening in his groin was becoming painful. How the hell much further was it anyway?

  The ten miles from Sister Bay to Gills Rock was like riding a turtle in a turtle parade. A not-so-quick stop at a drive-in for lunch served to set her nerves on edge. Watching him slip from a straw made her nipples tingle. Licking his lips to remove ketchup sent tingles through her body like an electric current.

  Since their earlier passionate sessions had been fast and furious, Cassie wondered if they’d ever be able to go slow. Let him remove each article of her clothing at a leisurely pace. Then remove his clothes and kiss and familiarize herself with every inch of his sculpted body. Her muscles clenched in anticipation of his entering her body.

  Sunlight disappeared when Hogan turned onto a tree-lined driveway. A canopy of branches obliterated its warming rays until they entered a clearing. The bay shimmered on either side of a large structure, momentarily blinding her after the dark driveway.

  Expecting something like her uncle’s hunting cabin with its outhouse and no running water, Cassie’s breath hitched when they drove under a dark umbrella of trees and entered an open gravel area. A blue sedan was parked under a wooden building filled with just enough wood to leave room for the vehicle. The other, much larger, structure took her breath away.

  “This is what you call a cabin?”

  The two-storied building boasted a gabled roof. A covered porch protected a double front door. Upper dormer windows graced each side of the front. Covered with dark brown wood siding, the house blended with the surrounding woods. It reminded her of a tree house.

  She glanced at the car again, her stomach lurching in trepidation. Who did the car belong to? Would they really be alone?

  She was so busy admiring the structure, Cassie didn’t hear Hogan leave the car. She jumped when he opened her door. When he took her damp hand, she swore she heard the zing and zap of the currents passing from fingertip to fingertip. Stepping into water with live electrical wires probably wouldn’t produce as much energy.

  Hogan released her and rubbed his fingers on his pants. So he’d felt it too. How could he not have?

  “Um . . .”

  Hogan licked his lips. “Yeah. Um . . .”

  Hogan removed their bags from the trunk, took Cassie by the elbow, and led her to the house. With each step they took, her stomach jumped a little more. He stopped just short of the doorway.

  “Having second thoughts?”

  She glanced at the car in the shed. “Are you sure we’re alone?”

  “Oh. The car.” He chuckled and shook his head.

  His smile eased some of her tension. He continued up the wooden steps and unlocked the door.

  “That’s just Dad’s old junker. One summer when I was a teenager he decided to buy a fixer-upper to keep my hands and mind occupied on something other than girls in their bikinis. It didn’t take long for him, and me, to find out I was mechanically challenged.”

  “Mechanically challenged?”

  “Actually, I could fix the damn thing, but I hated it,” he chuckled, opening the door. “I’d rather work on an entire chapter of geometry, which I was terrible at, than work on the clunker. It’s been rusting in the same spot ever since. I’ve decided that’s why mechanics were created.”

  Cassie imagined Hogan as a teenager, his sexy tush sticking out from under the hood, a tangle of dark hair hanging over one eye. She bet every girl on summer vacation fell head over heels in love with him. His father was a wise man to keep his son occupied.

  Hearing the clunk of a suitcase on the shiny wooden floor brought her to her senses, only to lose them again when Hogan slipped the purse from her shoulder and tipped up her chin. Before her eyes closed, she caught a vision of a wide-open room with large windows on either side of a fireplace. Like he’d assured her, the house seemed deserted.

  “Damn, you feel good,” he whispered as he swooped his lips toward hers. “I’ve been waiting to do this for hours, years.” He drew her closer.

  Lips to lips, chest to
chest, pelvis to pelvis, Hogan’s powerful kiss sucked the breath from her until the only thoughts rushing through her brain were of tearing their clothes off and rubbing her bare, aching breasts and pelvic bone against this rock-hard man. She slanted her head and opened her lips to give his tongue full entry. The rough texture of his tongue against hers set spirals of delight to her core, making it tighten, wanting more. She wasn’t sure if the moans echoing in the room were hers, or his, and she didn’t care.

  Lungs full to bursting, Hogan tried to ignore his aching penis when Cassie slipped her tongue into his mouth. Or maybe he’d slipped his into hers. It had been eighty-five hours and thirty minutes since last making love with her. Eighty-four and half hours longer than necessary.

  If he wasn’t careful he was going to come in his pants. Except for the incident in Paris and Cassie’s magic lips the other night, it hadn’t happened since he was a teenager watching Sally Something-or-other strut her bikini-clad stuff across the beach in front of their cabin. All he knew right now was he needed to bury himself deep in Cassie.

  Keeping their lips locked, Hogan jerked her blouse from her jeans. With fumbling fingers, he yanked button after button out of their holes, emitting a frustrated moan when, instead of Cassie’s smooth, warm skin, his hands met with a cotton T-shirt. Rolling her shoulders, Cassie helped him slip off the blouse. He smiled at her equally clumsy fingers working on his buttons. Shock rippled through him when she finally gave up and yanked the front of the shirt apart, scattering buttons across the floor, their plinking spiking the level of need a notch higher. He’d have to locate them all or he’d have some explaining to do if his mother found any.

  They yanked, unzipped, pulled, unhooked, and unlaced until bare skin brushed against bare skin. Before leaving the foyer, Hogan released her lips and dug into the side pocket of his bag for a foil packet.