by J. R. Ward
“Cassandra, is there something else?”
“Yes.”
She moved so fast, she startled him. She lunged up and her lips found his, her hands diving into his hair, her tongue entering him in a slick rush.
Oh…She was so good.
He let her push him down onto the mattress as his mind spun.
She was going to take him. She had come to take him.
And…holy hell, he was going to let her. He was going to let her do anything she wanted to him.
Spike was right. Life was short, and warmth was fleeting, and the cold would last forever.
Just this once, he thought, giving up, giving in.
Only once. And then never again.
“Yes,” he said, answering the question she wasn’t asking, answering it for himself. “Yes…only tonight, but yes.”
She pulled back and swept off the fleece she was wearing. Her breasts were bare, and in the glow from the potbellied stove, the sight of her had his hips surging up from the bed. She rose to her feet and stripped out of her jeans, her eyes luminescent and powerful.
With a single movement she swept the covers from his body and her eyes raked down him from head to foot. She looked at all of him, his skin, his muscles, his bones, his scars.
His wild physical response to her.
Then she lay on top of him, her silken body covering him, her thigh sinking between his, her belly absorbing the thick length of his arousal.
I love you, he thought, rubbing himself against her, sinking into her and getting lost. She was all of his fantasies and more. Flesh and blood bringing what he had dreamed of to life.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned.
He bent up and captured her mouth, reveling in the sensation of their lips and tongues meeting. Her body shifted to the side and slid off his. He turned instinctually toward her, but her hand stopped him.
“I want to touch you,” she said, kissing his neck.
And she did. Everywhere. When she reached the place where he ached the most, the shock of the contact was enough to take him to the brink. He steadied her hand, stopping her from stroking him.
“I’m about to—That is, I don’t want to…not unless we’re—”
Oh, yeah. He was smooth. Real smooth.
Funny, with other women, he’d had no trouble spelling out what he wanted and what the limits were. With Cassandra, he felt like a fourteen-year-old boy. All pounding hormones and raw vulnerability.
Then it happened.
Her smile as she held on to his flesh was so sexual, so womanly, so beautiful, it didn’t matter she wasn’t moving her hand anymore. His body surged, his lower back and thighs grabbing tight. The release shot out of him.
As the pleasure hit, horror curdled his blood. And would have sucked the testosterone right out of him if he hadn’t lost it all a second and a half ago.
Damn it. He’d been a good lover once. Truly. At an earlier point in his life, he’d been rock-solid confident about his ability to pleasure a woman. But he couldn’t catch a break with her. First time he’d had to stop. This time…
Alex squeezed his eyes shut and crossed his arms over his face as she let go of him.
* * *
Cass wanted to laugh, and not with cruelty or out of awkward disappointment. The truth was, she was thrilled that Alex had lost control.
In all her life, she’d never been a seducer. Had never had the kind of confidence it took to ravish a man. But tonight, with Alex, she felt…different.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said gruffly. His voice was muffled beneath his forearms.
She wasn’t. His lapse made her feel erotic and powerful. Especially because discipline was so much a part of him. The idea that she’d burrowed beneath that strength was…well, it changed a little bit of how she saw herself.
“It’s okay, these things happen—” She stopped as he winced.
Yeah, that probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear right now.
As the silence stretched out, she thought she probably should go. She kissed him on the chest and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The floor was chilly on the soles of her feet.
“Well…” she murmured. “I guess I’ll see you—”
It happened so fast that her head spun. Literally.
One minute she was on the verge of standing up. The next, she was flat on her back with Alex on top of her.
He smoothed her hair from her face as he parted her legs with his knee. His hips moved against her and…wow, okay. Recovery time was over.
“You understand that I can’t have you leaving just yet.”
“Male pride?” she said with a smile.
“The need to be with you.” He nuzzled her neck. “And, yeah, okay, a little male pride.”
She arched as he found the tip of her breast with his fingers and he pulled away, looking down at her as he lightly brushed her nipple. She moaned at the sensation, throwing her head back.
His voice was low. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
Well, when he looked at her like that, she had a pretty clear idea.
His hands were slow and thorough as they explored her body, leaving a path of heat in their wake. She was shaking with need when he reached between her legs.
“Oh, Cassandra,” he said as he touched her heat.
She cried out and bit into his shoulder.
The mattress wiggled as he kissed a path down her body. But then he stopped and cursed.
“This bed is too damn small. I feel like I’m making love to you in a shoe box.” He tried to reposition himself, shifting this way and that, but his arms and legs and torso wouldn’t fit no matter how much he tried.
With a growl of frustration, he came back up and covered her with his weight. “Now. Cassandra, I want you now.”
“Yes…”
His tongue shot into her mouth as his hand came between them. She felt blunt warmth brushing against her and then his thick arousal slid into her body. He shuddered as they were joined, and she felt the shaking inside of her.
“Is this okay?” he asked tightly.
“Please…more…”
With his first powerful thrust, she knew there would be no stopping. His rhythm was strong, dominating, his heavy, muscular body churning above her. The surging took her right to heaven, her release shooting through her in waves, stiffening her, stealing the air from her lungs, the sight from her eyes, the sound from her ears.
Alex paused, as if savoring the way her body grabbed on to his, and then as soon as she stilled, he took over again. He held nothing back, spared her no ounce of his weight and strength and need as he drove his hips over and over again. She held on to him at the waist, her arms sliding up and down the small of his back as he pumped, his skin blooming with sweat.
Tension built within his body as his driving hips went faster and faster, the stroke of his retreats getting shorter and shorter.
And then in a mighty yell, he called out her name and pushed inside one last time. The force of his release took her over the edge with him.
As they held on to each other, tears blinded her eyes.
So very good. So very…perfect.
* * *
As dawn arrived, Alex stared at Cassandra while she slept.
He’d watched her since the moment he’d rolled off her after they’d made love. Which had been hours ago.
The idea of closing his eyes and missing even a moment of having her beside him in his bed was unthinkable.
She was curled up against his body, seeking his warmth to fend off the chill of the shop. The potbellied stove had burned through its supply of wood, but there was no way he was getting up and re-stoking it. He was hoping if he didn’t disturb her, she would sleep until noontime. Tomorrow.
He wondered what her mood was going to be when she woke up. Would she regret what they’d done in the night? Even if she didn’t, she was probably going to be sore. He’d never been like that with anyone,
never unleashed his body with such total abandon.
Then again, he’d never wanted someone so desperately.
Cassandra stirred and nestled deeper into his shoulder. Her brows met as if she were confused. Her eyes opened.
Alex braced himself for her reaction.
She looked up at him. And smiled.
I love you, he thought, his body heating up.
“Hi,” he said. Like an idiot.
“Hi.” Her voice was husky. She glanced at the potbellied stove. “It’s a little cold.”
Leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do, but he rolled off the bed and went naked to the woodpile. When he had the fire going, he pulled on a pair of jeans, tucking himself in so his need wasn’t so obvious.
He hated that morning had come and their time together was over.
“Are you all right?” he asked, turning toward her.
“Yes.”
“I don’t regret last night,” he blurted.
Her gaze dropped to the floor and she pulled the blankets up.
“Are you sure about that?” she said tightly.
He frowned and then heard his own words. I don’t regret last night.
Oh, yeah, that was exactly what a woman wanted to hear from a man she’d been with.
He went to the bed and lowered himself to his knees on the floor beside her. He opened his mouth. Words failed him, which was not a surprise. The ones he really wanted to say he needed to keep to himself.
Cassandra held the blankets to her chest as she sat up and swung her feet off the bed. “I should go.”
“Wait…” He reached out and touched her face with both hands. “Oh…beautiful woman.”
He pressed himself between her legs, sweeping his fingers through her hair.
“Just once more,” he said, kissing her neck. He searched his mind, begging it to come up with the right way to speak to her. He’d been rat awful about so many things and not just this morning. “I…want to make love with you. Just one more time. Before you go.”
He pressed his lips to her collarbone. Her shoulder.
“Will you let me?” he whispered as he moved his head back and forth, his lips brushing over her skin.
She said nothing. But she let the blankets drop from her body.
Chapter Thirteen
Days later Cassandra stood in the White Caps kitchen and stared at the clipboard she was holding. What was she…Right, she was making a note about the main drainage line.
Except, as her pen hit the page, her mind came up with a big fat zero.
What was…?
Ted cleared his throat.
“Um, boss? You were saying?” When she looked at him blankly, he murmured, “About the upstairs hallway?”
“Oh, yes. Sorry. It would be great if you guys could lay down the plywood in preparation for the flooring installation.”
The man’s gaze shifted over her shoulder and widened. She turned around.
Spike was coming through the kitchen doorway, and immediately she searched for Alex behind him.
The plastic flap just settled back into place, however.
It had been three days since she’d left the shop in the early morning, three days since she’d last seen Alex. He hadn’t gone to any of the other parties at Joy and Gray’s over the weekend, not the festivities on Saturday night or the brunch on Sunday.
She knew he was avoiding her.
He had said only one night. Evidently, he’d meant it.
As Spike came up to her, she returned his hip check and forced herself to smile. “Hey, there, big guy.”
He grinned. “You gonna show me around your playground?”
“Sure. Ted, are we finished?”
Ted was too busy staring at Spike’s pierced ears and hair and tattoos to answer.
Spike looked back at the man. Then brought his hands up quick and made star bursts out of them. “Boo!”
Ted actually did a jump and shuffle before backing to the door. “Um…I’ll see you tomorrow, boss.”
Cass waited until the plastic flap fell into place. “Did you have to do that?”
“Come on, the guy needed the exercise.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not really.”
As they walked through the house, she pointed out all the progress.
When they were upstairs, she paused in one of the bathrooms. “Plumber starts tomorrow. Electrician, too.”
“You’re doing great work.”
“It’s all of us. I’ve got a good crew.”
“Yeah, even though they scare easy.”
The two of them returned to the kitchen and she packed up her things, putting her cell phone and her clipboard in her knapsack along with the sandwich she should have eaten for lunch.
“So, Cass, I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“Name it.”
He held the plastic sheet back so she could step through it. Outside, the cold was sharp enough to filet her parka.
Boy, the Adirondacks did frigid well. The place was one giant icebox this time of year.
“I was wondering if you’d take Alex into town tonight. I’ve got something I need to take care of so I can’t do the chauffeuring thing.”
She hesitated. “Does he know that you’re asking me this?”
“Oh, sure. Absolutely.”
“Where’s he going?”
“Here and there. He’s ready now.” Spike went over to the Honda. “Thanks, Cass.”
As the man tore out of the driveway, she looked to the shop.
There was no reason to be immature about this, she told herself. They’d been together a couple of times. That was it. Sure, their history was complicated, but if he could be cool about what had happened, so could she.
She walked up the snow-covered lawn and knocked on the door.
Alex called out, “Come in! I’m almost good to go.”
See, his voice was casual. Calm. He was fine. She was fine.
They were both fine.
Cass walked in. Alex was at the desk, his big body curled over a set of sailboat plans. Pencil shavings and eraser debris covered the blue paper he was working on.
“Hey, man, you eat yet?” Alex said without looking up. “We can suck back a plate or two at the Silver Diner when we’re through. Maybe rack some balls at Greene’s. What do you say?”
“I think Spike is a liar.”
Alex’s head shot up. “Cassandra.”
She lifted her hand and then thought, why was she waving at him? “I’m, er, I’m supposed to be your ride tonight. Wherever you’re going. Spike asked me to fill in for him.”
Alex muttered something under his breath. “Look, let me call Libby. You don’t have to do this.”
“It’s all right.”
“You’ve worked hard all day—”
“If you don’t want to go with me, just say so, okay?” Her words cracked through the room like a whip.
Alex stood up and reached for his cane. “I was trying to be polite.”
“Sorry,” she muttered. As her eyes flipped to the bed, she had to turn away from it.
Fine my fat fanny, she thought. Her head was a total mess.
The thing was, she’d assumed he’d seek her out even though he’d said their night together was a one-time-only kind of thing. It was just…he’d wanted to be with her so badly. And the way he’d made love to her in the morning light…
But she should have known better. Alex Moorehouse was all about discipline. What he said, he meant. Clearly his feelings for his Miracle were more important than his body’s needs.
Alex limped over to her. “Actually, I’d much rather have you behind the wheel. Spike swears at the other cars, he never uses his directional signal and he can’t parallel park worth a damn. I’m not even sure he has a license.”
Cass glanced up at his face and wished she felt as relaxed as he looked. “Where are we going?”
“To see my grandmother. She’s in a nursing home now. Joy used to take care of her, b
ut the dementia has gotten to the point that professional supervision is required. And it’s important for Joy to have a life.” He went over to a leather jacket that was hanging on the wall. “I make sure I go see her a couple times a week. I’m the only one she recognizes, although that’s because she thinks I’m her father. So I guess that doesn’t count, does it?”
He pulled the coat on and held the door open.
“Would you mind if I used your ladies’ room first?” Cass asked.
“Sure.” He closed out the cold. “Take your time.”
When she came back, he was putting his cell phone up to his ear.
“Moorehouse.” There was a pause and then, “Mad Dog! What the hell? How did you—He did? Figures. Nah, I’m glad it’s you.” There was a long silence. Then his face darkened. “I don’t know. I’m working on it. Good. Better. You’re what? Mad Dog—No…For God’s sake, I don’t—Damn it.” His lips thinned. “Yes, I’ll be here. Now, tell me the truth. In an earlier life, you were Genghis Khan, right?” He laughed, and his voice dropped, warmth coming through it. “I’ll see you soon, Mad. I’ve missed you.”
When he ended the call, he glanced over. “You ready?”
Cass nodded.
As they went out to the Rover, he said, “That was a member of my crew.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Mad Dog is…extraordinary. One of a kind.”
“You sound as if you really respect him.” She opened the driver’s side door.
“Her. Madeline is a her.”
Cass looked over the SUV’s hood. As Alex got into the car, he was wearing a little half smile the likes of which she had never seen before.
* * *
After Cassandra parked the car, Alex eased himself out of the Range Rover and made sure his balance was steady before he started walking. The snow was packed solid, which meant there was a gloss on the top that was slicker than baby oil.
“Need help?” Cassandra asked brusquely, as if she knew he’d only turn her down.
He looked over at her. In the waning sunlight, her hair gleamed like copper flashing and the cold wind had coaxed a blush out of her cheeks. She looked tired, though, the shadows under her eyes suggesting she hadn’t slept well lately.
He knew all about insomnia, too.
