by Remy Rose
Unwanted tears fill my eyes, and I wipe them away angrily, not wanting him to see. He’s now looking at the floor, the muscles in his face taut.
“It took me four years to do this, and honestly, I didn't think I ever could. But you know, I'm really glad I came.” I stand up. “I'll let you get back to your dinner, and your life.” I pause. “And I'll get back to mine.”
I hear him call my name as I walk to the door and close it firmly behind me. Climbing into my car, I drive out of the neighborhood, feeling as blank as my father's face looked, until I come to a vacant restaurant building and pull into the parking lot where no one will see me. Now, I can let go.
Bawling, I take great gulps of air. I’m way overdue for a good ugly cry. I cry for my mom, for fatherless years, for apologies that were never made, and for still missing a gorgeous, blue-eyed man who came into my life and messed everything up. And when I’m done using every sheet of Kleenex and wrinkled napkin I can find in the car, I breathe deeply and pick up my phone to text three words to Teal: I did it. She’ll know what that means.
I look out my car window, up to the brightest star I can find, and say out loud, “That was for both of us, Mumma.”
I most likely will never see my father again, and that’s fine with me. It feels like closure. Carlo, though...that’s a different story. As much as I keep trying to tie up the loose ends of our relationship, he keeps tugging at the knot.
Looking down at my phone, I suddenly feel the urge to call Carlo and tell him about the encounter tonight. It’s crazy to think this after what he did, but there’s part of me, deep down, that believes Carlo truly wants to protect me. He’d be proud of me for standing up to my father. I’m sure of that.
But I won’t call. The sensible thing is to move on, like I told him I was doing, and expect him to do the same. And I’ll try like hell to ignore the ache I feel, imagining him moving on to someone else.
chapter seventeen ~ Carlo
As strange as it sounds, it occurs to me that having Sam Oakes involved in whatever this is going to be actually makes things feel less complicated—like a fling among consenting adults, with little to no risk of emotions getting involved. That and the alcohol are contributing factors in deciding to just say fuck it and let go.
The elevator ride up to my suite was filled with laughs, suggestive comments, and Liv linking her arm through mine, leaning her head into me. Just this little gesture got to me. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed basic affection from a woman.
Even in an alcoholic haze, I can rationalize that it makes little sense for me to be faithful to a woman who refuses to even talk to me after weeks. Of course, I’ll keep trying. But am I expected to ignore my sexual needs, when technically, Cassandra and I aren’t in a relationship?
Right now, I’m thinking no.
I slide the card key into the lock and open the door. Sam and Liv are right behind me, Sam whistling as he enters. “Wow, Leone—you know how to travel in style.”
“I travel a lot. And I know what I want.” I look over at Liv and wink. She smiles, blushing.
Walking around the room, Sam’s shaking his head. “Fireplace, huge fucking flatscreen..and of course, the hot tub. Guess I better get off my ass and work toward a CEO position.”
“The job does have its perks. Can I get either of you an adult beverage? There's a nice bottle of Riesling, or I've got a couple cans of Belgian ales, brewed right here in Chicago.”
“If you're trying to get us drunk, Carlo, I think we're pretty much there.” Olivia smothers a giggle. “But I'll take a glass of wine.”
“And I'll grab an ale in a few,” Sam says. “If you can get Liv her drink, Carlo, I'll start the hot tub.”
After Sam heads to the bathroom, Liv bends down to unfasten the straps of her shoes and slips them off. She wiggles her toes in the carpet. “Ahh...so much more comfortable.”
I go to the kitchenette for the drinks. There are two wine glasses turned over on the counter. I open the Riesling, pour Liv a glass and turn around. She’s right there, standing close to me. Taking the glass, she lets her fingers brush against mine as she looks at me, her dark eyes large with feigned innocence. “Did I catch you off guard?”
“Yes. But I'm thinking that's par for the course for you.”
She sips, smiling, and I find myself staring at her lips. “I have to confess; it's my modus operandi. It comes in handy both in business...and in pleasure.”
“I'm not used to being caught off guard.”
“I gathered that. Does it bother you?”
“Not as much as I thought it would.”
“I'm glad.” She tips her head back to look at me. She’s several inches taller than Cassandra—
Stop. No comparisons. Olivia is most definitely her own person.
“Are you going to have something to drink, Carlo?”
“I haven't decided. Does it matter?”
“I just want to make sure you're relaxed enough.”
“For...?”
“For what I want to happen tonight.” Her voice is husky. “I realize you don't know me, but I'll share with you that I'm very...adventurous. I'm hoping for a very interesting evening.” She takes a step closer so that she’s inches away, and suddenly I feel her hands grasping my ass. Christ. My cock reacts.
Raising herself up on her toes, Olivia whispers in my ear. “Carlo...I know you may be a little hesitant, but please don't be. Just enjoy whatever happens. Go with it.” She sighs, inhaling deeply. “Mmm...you smell so good. Did you know that studies show that people are most likely to be attracted to others whose scent is dissimilar to their own?”
“You do realize you’re basically saying you smell bad.”
Liv's mouth opens in protest, and she bursts into giggles. “No. Just different.”
I lean toward her neck and sniff. She smells warm, with hints of vanilla.
“Do you approve, Mr. Leone?”
“I do. Very much.”
Sam comes in to grab a beer, his sleeves rolled up and the buttons of his plaid sport shirt undone, showing off his six-pack abs.
Olivia looks from him to me and sighs. “I'm a lucky, lucky girl.”
Laughing, Sam comes over to nuzzle her neck. “Jacuzzi's filling up as we speak. I say we have a drink and hop in.” He drapes his arm across Liv's shoulders, and again, I feel a stab of possessiveness, which I quickly clamp down on.
After calling the front desk to have extra towels sent up, I open a bottle of beer while I wait for housekeeping to arrive. I’m feeling better than I have in weeks—relaxed, carefree. The booze is obviously part of it, but it’s more than that—it’s the way Olivia Malstrom is looking at me, with those take me now eyes. It’s her bold, playful manner that keeps me imbalanced and intrigued. She’s pulled me out of my dark mood, and for that, I’m grateful.
I watch as Oakes leads her into the bathroom, see the way her hips sway in her black dress as she walks. She looks back over her shoulder and flashes me a dazzling smile.
The hotel employee shows up with a stack of towels. I tip him and head for the bathroom, hearing the sounds of bubbling water. Beer in hand, I push open the door to find both Liv and Sam in the tub. She’s holding her wine glass with one hand, her other arm bent on the side of the tub, fingertips dangling into the bubbles. The water level is just above her nipples so that the upper part of her breasts are exposed.
I’m getting harder by the second.
“Hey, bud...you look a little overdressed.” Sam grins, his arms outstretched along the hot tub, his broad chest glistening.
“I can fix that.” I start unbuttoning my shirt and go into the bedroom. Liv has her black dress laying over the chair in the room, and just seeing this makes my balls ache.
I’m considerably less dressed when I get back to the bathroom—silk boxers only. Olivia appraises me immediately. Her cheeks are pink—from the wine or hot water—or wanting to be fucked.
I like thinking it’s the last.
&n
bsp; “Much better, Carlo. You're almost ready to get in.” She winks. “Almost.”
Grinning, I meet her gaze while I slide down my boxers with one hand, holding my bottle of beer in the other. I climb into the Jacuzzi, sinking into the hot water and settling myself on the built-in seat, facing Sam and Liv so the three of us make a triangle.
“Now this is what I call a business meeting,” Oakes chuckles. He raises his bottle. “To wet and naked networking.”
We toast and laugh. Sam drains his beer and sets the bottle on the edge of the tub. “I'm feeling like I need to seal the deal. With a kiss.”
I watch as Sam sloshes over to Liv. Her face is glowing with anticipation as he cups her chin in his hand and begins to kiss her. She moves slightly so that she’s sideways to me, and I realize she did this on purpose, so I can watch without having Sam block my view. Thoughtful girl.
She returns Sam's kiss eagerly, her hands sliding up his wet arms to grip his shoulders. Sam puts his hands on her tits, cupping and groping them as he kisses her more deeply. Liv sits upright, closing her eyes and tipping her head back while Sam bends down and fastens his lips around her nipple, the bubbly water swirling around her breasts.
Jesus. My cock stiffens watching Oakes flick his tongue. Her tits are large and round—bigger than my usual preference, but still appealing as hell. I’m aching to touch her, to take over for Sam, but I’ll wait my turn.
As Sam sucks on her nipple, Liv opens her eyes and stares directly at me with unbridled lust. He puts his mouth on her other breast, and Liv's fingers dig into his shoulders. After a minute, he straightens up, kissing a slow path up her chest and neck to her parted mouth. Her hands disappear underneath the water, and I can hear Sam's groan over the Jacuzzi jets. My cock is fully erect, imagining her hand around it.
Olivia breaks the kiss and looks over Sam's shoulder at me. “I think it's only fair that we include the CEO of Miller Valve in this transaction.” She moves toward me in the steam, smiling, her body slick and shining. Damp tendrils of hair cling to her cheeks. Laying her hands lightly on my bent knees, she leans in to kiss me. I move my legs apart so she can get between them, and for a few seconds that seem to hang in time, I look in her eyes, wishing I could see blue-green instead of dark brown. I want Liv—can’t deny that—and the need that’s been simmering inside me pushed its way to the surface and ignited. I close my eyes when her lips touch mine, hoping that when I let myself go, the ache will go as well.
It’s strange, kissing another woman after Cassandra. Olivia's kiss is more assertive, her tongue insistent. I taste wine, and a hint of peppermint. She’s uninhibited and eager, and this fuels my desire. I take her face in my hands and crush her mouth as she moans against my lips.
I have to touch her. Kissing her deeply, I slide gentle fingers down her neck and shoulders to her breasts and fill my hands with them. I trace the pebbled skin around her nipples and pinch the hard peaks, my cock straining against her bare belly as she gasps. I keep this hand on her breast, caressing, while my other hand travels down her flat stomach to her pussy. Her soft folds are smooth and full. I rub her gently, teasingly, liking the sounds she’s making, and then slip a finger inside her opening. Instantly, her pussy walls tighten, and Jesus, I’m ready to explode. I can hardly stand to wait any longer, and apparently, Oakes can’t, either. Sam stands up rather unsteadily, his erection bobbing and water dripping off his body. Leaning over the tub, he reaches to the floor and brings forth a foil packet which he quickly rips open. Props to him for being prepared.
He rolls the condom down his cock, breathing heavily, and positions himself behind Liv, his hands on her hips.
“Carlo,” she says huskily, “sit on the side so I can take care of you.”
Gladly, Liv. I slide my wet body out of the hot tub and sit on the edge. She bends over to put her head between my legs, and oh, fuck...I’m groaning as I feel her lips close around the tip of my cock.
Looking down at her, I can see a smattering of stars tattooed on her back, creating a colorful trail from between her shoulder blades to just above her ass. I’ve never really been a fan of tattoos, but this design is classy and sexy on a woman like Liv.
Sam’s entering her. “Christ,” he mutters. “You feel so fucking good, Liv.”
She moans in response as she takes my cock deeper into her mouth. I feel her nails biting into my thighs as she sucks. It’s killing me to hold off, watching Liv as she gives me head as I glance up to see Sam pounding into her. I focus on the trail of stars on her back as she sucks me and hope this lasts a little longer.
“Ah, you lucky girl,” Sam is gasping. “Sucking a cock while you’re being fucked. You’re so wet, Liv...Christ, I'm gonna come.” He grunts as he slams into her one last time, and this, combined with Liv's oral talents, brings me to the point of no return.
I close my eyes—imagining Cassandra, remembering how it felt to be inside her beautiful mouth, thinking of how much I want to fuck her, kiss her softly afterwards...
I explode, stars dancing in my brain as I say silently, forgive me.
chapter eighteen ~ Cassandra
Sitting on top of a sixteen-hand gelding is definitely a natural high. Not just literally, because Brownie’s so tall, but the intoxicating feeling it gives you—the power of a horse contained in 54-inch, black leather dressage reins and a Stubben loose-ring snaffle bit. And all of this in my small hands.
Like a good girl, I did as Ingrid asked and watched—carefully—the dressage DVD's, learning about correct rider position: weight even on both seat bones, vertical alignment, the importance of relaxed muscles and joints. The relaxing part was challenging since I was concentrating so hard on not screwing up, especially with Ingrid supervising the first few times I rode, watching me with a hostile eye. But I must have done a decent job, because by the fourth lesson, Ingrid wasn't bitching at me and just stood there frowning with her arms folded while I asked Brownie to do leg yields, shoulder-ins and serpentines and tried to keep from smiling when he executed each exercise perfectly.
Have I mentioned how much I love this horse? Brownie is pure strength and grace. His working trot is smooth but powerful...my abs and legs have gotten in excellent shape riding him. I have to say I am grudgingly grateful to Carlo for giving me this opportunity to ride. Ingrid never would have agreed otherwise.
And the more I learn about dressage (a/k/a the ballet of the horse world), the more I want to learn. As far as I can tell, I’m at second level, and even though I don’t plan to compete, I’m so, so happy about becoming a better rider.
Today, I’m finishing my ride on a chilly Saturday morning in the indoor arena. I have Brownie on a loose rein, cooling him off at the walk after a good workout, my pelvis swaying from side to side with his big stride. He seems relaxed and content, and it hits me that I am, too.
I lean forward to run my gloved hand along his long neck, smoothing his mane that never could decide if it wanted to fall to the right or left. One of his many charming attributes.
“Hey, girl! You look good up there.”
I look up to see Ingrid's stepsister standing just inside the arena entrance. “Hey, what's up? I didn't think I'd see you again before you left for France. Are you here to work?”
“Kind of. Ingrid found a replacement for me—not that anyone could replace me, though, right?” Sonya winks. “She wanted me to meet him, and today was like one of the only times we could coordinate. So I'm going to train him, because of course, Ingrid's too 'busy.'” She makes air quotes around the last word. “I guess she's going to that Equine Affaire in Massachusetts. But she's going to pay me, so it's all good. And I doubt it will take too long to show him what to do. Unless he's hot, and in that case, I'll take my time.”
He. Except for the farrier who comes every six weeks, this will be the first male to work here since I’ve been at Windswept. “When does he officially start?”
“Next month. I guess he used to live around here and just moved back. He should be here
in a few minutes, so you can meet him. How've you been, anyway? I haven't seen you in like forever.”
“I know. I've been good...working a lot, and I'm going back to school part-time next semester.”
“That's awesome! I always thought you were too smart to be shoveling shit.” Sonya is smiling underneath her baseball cap.
“I may be turning that into a career...I'm thinking equine management.”
“Ha! Maybe you can take over this place for Ingrid. Whoops...shit. Hi, Ingrid.” Sonya giggles nervously as her older stepsister walks into view. And with Ingrid is a guy—I’m guessing the replacement for Sonya. Mid-twenties, medium build, dressed in a walnut-colored leather jacket with a bright plaid shirt underneath, jeans and work boots. His face is shadowed by the cowboy hat he’s wearing, but I can see a flash of white teeth.
“Girls, I'd like to introduce you to Joshua Beckett, who's going to be taking over for Sonya.”
I dismount, lifting the reins over Brownie's head, and walk toward the arena entrance. Brownie's ears are pricked forward in interest; he’s highly social and likes meeting new people. He’d make a great politician.
Taking off my riding helmet and smoothing my hair, I walk closer to Joshua Beckett. He quickly removes his hat, and oh my. He’s clean-shaven and extremely attractive: close-cropped, sandy brown hair that looks like it wants to be wavy, light blue eyes, a sprinkling of freckles across his straight nose and cheeks.
I take his outstretched hand. He’s also wearing gloves. “Hi, Josh...I'm Cassandra.”
Josh puts his hat back on and adjusts it on his head. He’s most definitely rocking the cowboy vibe—without the ego. “Nice to meet you. And your horse is...”
“Oh, he's not mine,” I answer quickly. “I'm just lucky enough to ride him. His name is British Drummer, but we call him Brownie.”
