Her Claim: Legally Bound Book 2

by Rebecca Grace Allen

  “Yeah. She is.”

  Relief came like a linebacker, suddenly knocking the wind out of him. Everything with Cassie had been a break from the ordinary, and maybe that’s why this was coming to the surface. Maybe wanting this was something he’d buried, because when would he have figured out that he liked this on a one-night stand? No woman would meet a guy in a bar and say the things Cassie did. But perhaps this was what had always crackled between them—a dark, intense attraction that had driven all their verbal clashing. A secretive thing they both shared that he’d never known he wanted before.

  It was why he couldn’t stop himself. Why be broke his own rules to be with her, again and again and again. The desire had always been there. Cassie just lit a fuse in him. She was the burning match, but he was the kindling, and he wanted to chase that fire until they both exploded.

  “Then I don’t think wanting that says anything about you,” Jack said. “Except that you’ve found someone who trusts you with the most secret parts of her being.”

  He put his glasses on, turned to his computer and started typing. Patrick settled into a chair.

  “There’s no safe way to do breath play,” his friend began. “But if you’re going through with it, you have to know what you’re doing. Never apply serious pressure to the front of her throat. Listen to make sure her breathing doesn’t get too shallow. Don’t wait for her eyes to lose focus, or for her to struggle, for you to stop. And always, always make sure you can feel her pulse.”

  “Got it.”

  “Have you taken a CPR course?”

  Patrick nodded grimly. “We have one at work every few years.”

  “Good. I’m assuming you’re smart enough to have established a safeword?”

  “Of course,” Patrick scoffed. “I do actually know a thing or two about this.”

  “You came to me for advice. Now shut up and take it.”

  “That’s usually my line.”

  Jack rolled his eyes, typed a few more things and clicked on his mouse. “I’m sending you some articles. Read them thoroughly. If you have any questions, let me know.”

  “And take two aspirin and call you in the morning.”

  Jack did not seem to appreciate the lighthearted commentary. His lips were tight in a way Patrick had never seen before.

  “I’m warning you, Patrick—do not hurt her. Or you won’t only have Lilly banging down your door. You’ll be answering to me as well.”

  He’d never seen his friend’s Dominant side, and he had to admit, it schooled him.

  “Understood.”

  They grabbed a bite to eat after that, changing the subject to the situation with Brady and Sam over a pint and sweet potato fries. They were talking about Jack and Lilly’s plans to give the troubled couple some space by babysitting Allegra and Hope for a weekend when Patrick’s phone buzzed with a text.

  Cassie’s name read out on the screen. His stomach pitched with happiness.

  “This day can suck a big bag of dicks,” her text read.

  Patrick couldn’t hide his smile. “Is that an invitation?”

  “Unfortunately, not tonight. I have more work to do, and I’m exhausted.”

  “Pobre cosita.”

  The teasing Spanish words for poor thing came to him quickly. Amazing, the pieces of language that had stuck in his memory after all these years.

  “Don’t you dare get me horny. I have to stay focused.”

  He replied with a frowning emoticon. He was disappointed that he wouldn’t be seeing her—five days already felt like an eternity—but it was all right. Given the several articles Jack had sent him, he had plenty to keep him busy.

  Her next message came in quickly.

  “I’m taking a personal day tomorrow to get some stuff done. Call you when I’m finished?”

  Yeah, he was way too happy to read that text.

  “Sure. I take a long lunch on Thursdays. Maybe I won’t go back to work afterward.”

  “Tough life.”

  He sent her an emoticon with its tongue stuck out. “Don’t work too hard.”

  He pocketed his phone and looked up to find Jack staring at him expectantly.

  “What?” Patrick asked.

  “You haven’t heard a thing I’ve said, have you?”

  Patrick mirrored Jack’s shit-eating grin from before. “Nope.” He was pretty sure that was the way his face always got now, whenever he was talking to Cassie.

  Jack chuckled and knocked back a sip. “It’s okay to let yourself be happy, you know.”

  Patrick didn’t know how to respond to that. The truth was, Cassie made him happier than he’d been in…ever? But telling Jack that would mean explaining the rule the two of them had made up when they started this thing. The escape clause he should’ve invoked when he and Cassie were in bed the other night.

  Mentioning it then, or now, was like pointing to the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. And Patrick wanted to put that shit off as long as possible.

  He smiled and reached for his beer instead.

  * * *

  Once Patrick was home, he sat down at his computer and opened Jack’s email. There were dozens of other ones he should’ve given his attention to—ones from Strauss, his team, and he needed to get in touch with Hudson as soon as possible, but right now he had other things on his mind.

  He clicked open the links and read through the posts on breath play first. Jack’s warning that there was no safe way to do this was no joke. Depriving her brain of oxygen would put her in hypoxia, which would enhance her orgasm, but he was literally going to have her life in his hands. He’d do anything to fulfill Cassie’s fantasies, but he wasn’t confident he could pull off this one without leaving a corpse behind.

  He needed to dial things back. She didn’t want to have her breathing cut off—just to feel the possibility of it, so that was as far as they were going to go.

  The pieces on consensual non-consent drew his attention in a different way. It calmed him in a way he never expected, reading through women’s accounts of what they liked about it, even defending it. And the more he read, the more he understood there was nothing wrong with either of them wanting this. They were simply two consenting adults engaging in role play. Doing this was totally fine, if you were with the right person.

  Patrick wanted to be the right person for Cassie.

  He hated that she’d been so ashamed. And he suddenly felt fiercely protective of her, wanting to shield her from the frustrations of her life, how she struggled with being biracial and the strain she felt from her job and family.

  Her mother was pressuring her to have a baby. The image bothered him, because Cassie being pregnant meant he’d no longer be in the picture. Sure he might’ve wanted kids, in some alternate universe where he had a clue on how to be a parent. And what shit could he pass on to them? Addiction? She didn’t seem to want kids, though. At least, not right now. And he certainly shared her feelings of ambivalence on the subject.

  He pulled out his phone and read over their texts, smiling at her quippy little lines. There was a lot on her shoulders, but it was more than that. Cassie didn’t give herself permission to be who she was. She was hard-hitting, but also surprisingly vulnerable. And he wanted to give her what she needed. To ruin her for every other man by acting out her last two fantasies and making them incredible.

  Wait, were they the last?

  Patrick searched his memory. She’d only said they were the two fantasies she was the most ashamed of, but they did have an air of finality to them.

  He didn’t want this to be over. The very thought of it nearly had him bolting out of his chair, his legs itching with the need to move. But the desires gnawing at him were hypocritical at best. This claim she had on him was short term—that was always the deal, and he’d been all for it. He never wanted commitment, just a break from luring new women into his bed.

  The thing was, he didn’t want a new woman.

  He wanted Cassie.

  Somehow,
he’d gone beyond liking her. He liked the certainty of knowing he was going to see her, craved the intimacy they shared. It wasn’t only her pleasure he longed for, but her laughter, her fearless attitude, her flirty text messages and the familiarity of her body next to his.

  And that was a bad sign.

  It was time to put some distance between them. Maybe it was a good thing that these two fantasies might be her last, because that gave him a reason to cash in his chips.

  He could do that, right? Say things were getting too deep and walk away unscarred?

  Goddamn it, he didn’t think he could. Not without feeling a very palpable loss.

  He’d been determined to never fall in love again, because Sofía had broken his heart into so many pieces it never managed to work right afterward. But the ache in his chest right now made him aware that his heart was working again, and it didn’t want to let Cassie go.

  21

  Cassie paged through magazines, trying to stay busy. There wasn’t a lot she could do while sitting on a table in a paper gown, but if she wasn’t distracted, her thoughts flipped back to Patrick.

  It was still dizzying to realize he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. She’d only seen his wealth and cavalier behavior, but there was so much more to him, so much he hid behind his mask. And after last weekend she couldn’t help feeling like the stakes had changed. It was still just sex, but they’d become more to one another. Deeper friends, maybe? Perhaps when their arrangement came to an end, there’d be a newfound understanding between them.

  She frowned at the magazine. She didn’t like the thought of this ending. They hadn’t put a date on it, so she guessed it was her call when it did. He’d promised to see out all her fantasies, and she still had plenty left to play with.

  The door to the little room she was in opened. “So, Cassie, how are you feeling?”

  Cassie smiled at her ob-gyn. Talking about her menstrual cycle wasn’t what she wanted to be doing, but at least the appointment would be over quick. She’d ordered her plane tickets to Florida this morning, so once this was over, she’d be home in time to FaceTime with Elísa during her final dress fitting, then head to Patrick’s for some late afternoon fun.

  Fun that maybe wouldn’t involve condoms after another month.

  “Mostly fine. Although my periods have been a little wonky.”

  “Describe wonky.”

  “They’ve been coming every three weeks and lasting around four days. It’s one of the reasons why I wanted to go on the pill. I’m hoping it will make me more regular.”

  Her doctor opened her file. “How long has this been going on?”

  Cassie shrugged. “Six to eight months.”

  Luckily her period hadn’t gotten too much in the way of their sexy times, but she’d been counting her cycle to schedule their time together around it, and to be sure she wasn’t late.

  Another reason for wanting the birth control. What a cluster fuck that would be.

  “Any irritability?” her doctor asked. “Moodiness?”

  Two words that described Cassie well. “Yeah, but that’s nothing new.”

  “What about a reduced sex drive, or vaginal dryness?”

  Hah. Not so much a problem lately. “No, none of that.”

  “No hot flashes or sweating?” Cassie shook her head. “Okay, just the irregular periods. You’ve recently turned thirty-nine, correct?”

  “Correct.” Thanks for the reminder.

  Her doctor closed the file, then made a face. Cassie did not like that look at all.

  “It’s possible that you’re in the first stages of perimenopause.”

  Cassie liked the sound of that even less. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a completely normal stage that comes before menopause. Most women don’t know it exists because it happens while you’re still menstruating. The actual change could be several years off. Typically it starts in the mid-forties, but for some women it can start in the late thirties.”

  “And it means what?”

  “Your estrogen and progesterone levels may be in the beginnings of their decline. Your fertility will be decreasing, but pregnancy could still be possible, if you want it to.”

  Oh. So, basically, it was her body’s way of saying, Hey, we’re closing up shop soon! Are you suuuuuure you don’t want a baby?

  “We could do some blood work to be completely certain, but it’s nothing to be worried about. Think of it as an opportunity to take stock of your life—a time to consider what changes you’d like to make, if any.”

  “Meaning, the clock is ticking.” She could hear her mother’s voice in her ear.

  “If having children is something you want, then yes.”

  Well, fuck. She’d come here hoping to go on birth control, not to find out it was time to make a decision about growing a tiny human. She could only imagine what Patrick’s response would be to this.

  Not that he was the one she was going to have babies with. He’d said it himself—kids weren’t for him. She wasn’t sure they were for her either, but she thought she’d have more time to figure it out. Now her body was making the choice for her.

  Her doctor stood. “Let’s get the exam going, okay? And I’ll write you up that script. Then you can let me know if you have any more questions.”

  By the time she’d picked up the prescription for birth control and gotten home, a chilly rainstorm had started. She’d just gotten her coat off when her phone started vibrating.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she yelled at the incoming FaceTime request. She found her phone in her bag, plopped down on the couch and accepted the call.

  Elísa’s face filled the screen, a myriad of voices behind her.

  “Cassie, look.” Her sister held the phone out so Cassie could see her in the mirror looking radiant in a veil and a sparkling white gown. “¿Qué piensas?”

  What did she think? She blinked back tears. “I think you look amazing, honey.”

  “Thank you! I wish you were here.”

  For the first time in ages, Cassie wished she was there too. She wanted the bright southern Florida sun and gentle sway of palm trees and the exuberant feeling of her little sister’s tight hugs. She wanted life to slow the hell down for a minute, so she could figure out what she wanted.

  Elísa turned the phone around. Her face immediately fell. “What’s wrong?”

  Shit. What had her sister seen in her expression? “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  “Cassandra,” Elísa warned. “Dí me.”

  Tell her? Tell her what? That she’d found out that her eggs were slowly dying inside her, and the guy she was seeing for some casual sex wasn’t at all husband material?

  Before Cassie could answer, her mother stole the phone.

  “Hola, mi vida.” She walked to a line of couches. Squished onto them were Cassie’s sister-in-law and niece, along with several Flóres-Allbright aunts and cousins, and Elísa’s future mother-in-law. “Everybody say hello to Cassie.”

  A chorus of voices greeted her. Annalisa climbed into Cassie’s mother’s lap.

  “Tía Cassie, when are you gonna get married?”

  Cassie couldn’t hide her grimace. On the screen, her mother kissed her niece’s cheek. “Good question, niña. I’ve been asking her that for ages.”

  Cassie ground her teeth as the Spanish chatter in the background turned on her.

  “Trabajas demasiado, Cassandra. ¡Necesitas encontrar un marido!”

  “¿No quieres tener un bebé?”

  Yes, she worked too much. No, she didn’t need to find a husband.

  No, she didn’t know if she wanted to have a baby.

  And this wasn’t what she wanted to deal with right now.

  “Okay, everyone. It’s not my day, it’s Elísa’s. ¡Entonces porque no me dejan sola, carajo!”

  She didn’t often curse in front of her niece. Or tell her family to leave her the fuck alone.

  Elísa snatched her phone back. “Okay, everyo
ne lay off Cassie. And you—” her sister stared into the screen, “—call me later and tell me what’s going on.”

  Cassie nodded. “Sure.”

  She wasn’t going to. Not about this, not when her sister had so much to celebrate.

  Elísa ended the call, and Cassie stared at her phone. Her first thought was to call Lilly. But the person she wanted to talk to was someone who knew her deepest desires and all her nervous habits, and could soothe her in a way no one else had before.

  She dialed.

  “Hi,” she huffed after Patrick picked up. “I need to come over, now.”

  * * *

  Patrick watched the darkened sky as he waited for Cassie’s arrival.

  He’d been more than happy to cut his lunch with his mother short when she called, especially since they’d been sitting there saying nothing to one another. Plus it was pouring out—the kind of ugly, cold rainstorm that sucked the warmth straight from your bones.

  He didn’t know what was on her mind. Maybe she’d found out about him sending Hudson her way. Maybe she’d decided they’d gone too far last weekend and she didn’t want to do this anymore. Perhaps she’d come to terms he couldn’t, and knew it was time to put that escape clause into action.

  The elevator dinged. Patrick waited as the door rolled open.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She stepped inside and ripped off her coat. “Hey.”

  He took her coat, shook off the raindrops that had beaded up on it and folded it neatly over one of his barstools. Cassie stormed past him into the living room. She was her own violent, windy squall, full of power and fury. But for once he didn’t want that ferocity unleashed on him.

  She collapsed on the couch and he sat down beside her.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  His voice sounded stern, but he was experimenting with his tone. He’d seen her struggle to get words out before. She’d probably stew forever in her head if he let her. Even if this was about them, he wasn’t asking her to talk to him right now. He was telling.

  “It’s my fucking goddamn family.”

  His anxiety dissipated. She wasn’t mad at him. This he could work with. “And what did your fucking goddamn family do?”