by CJ Bishop
Flynn chuffed. “I find that hard to believe. So, what was so special about him, otherwise? Did he fuck good?”
“Yeah,” she laughed as her face flushed a bit. “He did.”
“Better than me?” Flynn looked at her over the rim of his cup as he tipped it to his lips. “Be honest. I can take it.”
Caterina pressed her lips together in a shy smile and lowered his eyes, tapping her cup nervously. Flynn’s member swelled; her simple gesture answered for him. “No,” she admitted then met his stare. “He wasn’t better than you.” She licked her lips and Flynn shuddered. “Not even close.”
“Good,” Flynn smiled. “Because I lied. I couldn’t have handled it if you’d said he was better than me.”
Caterina laughed quietly. “No worries,” she murmured and sipped from her cup, her dark eyes warming up as she did a quick but thorough sweep of his body.
His balls tingled and dick stretched. “I’m sorry,” he said low and set his cup in the sink.
“For what?”
He stepped away from the sink and took a short stride in her direction. “For last night. I asked you to stay so I could fuck you all night long.” He sighed. “I didn’t come through for you. I fell asleep instead. For that, I have to apologize.”
Swallowing thickly, Caterina stared at him as he approached with slow, purposeful steps. “I…I fell asleep, too. No need to…” she released a shaky breath. “…to be sorry. I certainly wasn’t…” she licked her lips quickly and blinked. “…disappointed with your…performance.”
“Well, thank you,” Flynn whispered. “But I try to be a man of my word.” He paused when his body brushed up against hers. “Maybe I could have another chance to make good on my word? Maybe…tonight?” He ran his fingertips up the sides of her body and felt her tremble. He took her cup and set it aside then lightly caressed the back of his fingers across her hardened nipples. “I’ll carb up throughout the day…” He leaned in and brushed his lips to her cheek, her ear. “…and tonight, we’ll put my endurance to the test.” He nibbled her earlobe then suckled it. “What do you say?”
Caterina shivered and her breath puffed unsteadily. “I…I’m free tonight.”
“What about…right now?” he breathed into her ear. He cupped her breasts through the t-shirt, squeezing her firm yet oh so soft and supple flesh, and pushed his crotch against her, pinning her gently to the counter.
She pressed her tits into his palms and kissed his throat as her hand went inside his open jeans and wrapped his thick, hard cock.
Flynn shuddered. Good answer.
CHAPTER 8
“Misguided Fairytales”
______________________________________________
“Morning, papá.” Cruz kissed his father’s cheeks and took the chair adjacent to the older man at the dining table. A slightly plump, middle-aged Spanish woman served him a cup of coffee and a cinnamon-raisin bagel—his usual breakfast. “Thank you, Maria.” Cruz flashed a warm, charming smile.
“Always my pleasure, Mister Cruz.” She patted his head like a child and returned to the kitchen.
Cruz chuckled and picked up his coffee. “Do you think she knows I grew up?” Maria had been with them since Cruz was four, and had been like a sister to his mother. When Angela Santiago passed, Maria became the mother-figure in young Cruz’s life and loved him like her own, considering her service to the Santiago family an honor and privilege.
Laying aside his newspaper, Lorenzo Santiago eyed his son with amusement. “Have you?”
“A little bit,” Cruz assured.
“Hm.” His father smiled doubtfully and sipped his tea. The man quit being a fan of coffee about time he hit forty-five; said it now gave him the trots. “I’ll take your word for it, mijo.”
Lorenzo Santiago took pleasure in teasing his son about his maturity, but Cruz was never in doubt as to how deeply his father trusted and respected him. Much of this father’s reverence came from the respect that Cruz had earned from the men. Young and old, each and every one of their men acknowledged and honored Cruz as their boss, his authority subject only to Lorenzo.
His father continued to sip his tea and gaze at Cruz as the younger man took a bite of his bagel. He chewed a moment, staring back, then asked, “What?”
“I spoke to Emilio earlier on his way out.” Lorenzo Santiago was the only one who used Sanchez’s given name, regarding him as a second son. “He said you had trouble sleeping last night.”
He fixed that, Cruz thought with a rush of heat to his groin.
“He said you were worried about Caterina.”
Cruz nodded. “I was. Cat is hurt and vulnerable, since Armand cheated on her. In that state, sometimes a person doesn’t act as responsibly as they normally would otherwise.”
“Has she been out all night?” Lorenzo asked. “I haven’t seen her this morning.”
“Yes,” Cruz said. “She went out looking for a…” He didn’t finish; Lorenzo Santiago considered Caterina his daughter. Fathers weren’t typically eager to know their daughter was out picking up a strange man to have sex with.
Lorenzo smiled. “It’s all right. I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten the perils of young love.” He picked up his cup. “The pain of a heartbreak can cause even the toughest, smartest man—and woman—to go awry.” He drank his tea. “Is she going to be all right? In regard to Armand?”
Cruz didn’t miss the note of distaste in his father’s voice when he spoke the man’s name. “I think so. She’s hurt, but she sees him for who and what he is now. The blinders are off.”
“That’s good,” Lorenzo murmured. “He was not the right man for her.”
“I agree.” Cruz broke off a small piece of the bagel and ate it. “I don’t think she told us everything that went on between her and Armand. She thought she was in love, she would have wanted to protect him from us.”
Frowning, Lorenzo murmured, “What do you mean she didn’t tell us everything?”
“I think he mistreated her,” Cruz said. “On multiple levels. I don’t believe he ever beat her, but I’m convinced it was headed that way. Some men you can just tell. It’s in their eyes. Him cheating on her was the best thing for Caterina because it opened her eyes and got her away from him. I know she’s hurting because of it, but she’ll recover. She wasn’t actually in love with the man. He’d just convinced her that she was. And now she knows it.”
Lorenzo gazed at his son thoughtfully. “How do you know she wasn’t in love?”
“I could tell,” Cruz replied. “There’s a…look. And she didn’t have it.”
“And you’re familiar with this look?” A small smile played at the edge of his father’s mouth.
Cruz understood what he was getting at, but detoured around it. “Yes. I see it whenever I visit our brothers on the other side of the city. Every time I encounter any of the boys from the Phoenix club. I witnessed it in surplus at the wedding of the four Phoenix couples. I saw it every day with Diego and Marissa.” His throat tightened at the memory of their recent tragic loss of the two wonderful people. “I know what love looks like, papá. And Caterina was not in love with that bastard.”
Warm compassion filled his father’s eyes. “I know,” he said softly. “I also recognize the look of love. I saw it in your mother’s eyes every second of our life together. And you are right; our Caterina was not in love.” His father went quiet and looked at him for a long moment, then added gently, “But mi hijo is.”
My son is. Cruz grew uncomfortable beneath the knowing gaze of the older man. He set aside the remainder of the bagel and downed his coffee. “I have things to do.” He stood up then leaned over and kissed his father’s cheek. “Te amo, papá.”
“And I you, mijo,” Lorenzo whispered.
Cruz walked away and was halted at the dining room doorway by his father’s voice.
“Love is not something to fear, mijo,” his father murmured. “Don’t waste precious time by being afraid of what’s in your heart. S
í?”
Cruz stood with his back to the man, his throat pinching. “Sí, papá,” he whispered and left the room.
•
Caterina lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, just trying to breathe. Her body trembled from the zealous session with Flynn, her burning, flushed skin drenched with sweat. She couldn’t be certain she would survive getting fucked by this man all night long. Though she had no doubt he had the stamina to endure an entire night.
Stretched out beside her, Flynn released a heavy breath and rubbed his hand down his face. “You’re the best—and most fun—workout I’ve ever had.”
Caterina looked at him through heavy eyes. “I’d rather be the best fuck you’ve ever had.” That was unlikely; the man had a hell of lot more experience than she did, had been with many women.
Flynn chuckled low and simply winked at her.
What did that mean? She was the best he’d had? Or he thought she was amusing to think she even ranked up there with the best? Cat didn’t ask.
“Forgive me for bringing up an unpleasant subject…” Flynn turned onto his side and propped his head in his hand. “But this Armand…how did you meet? And what in the hell made you stay with him?”
It was an unpleasant subject. And she was still struggling with the true reason he’d had such a hold on her…and possibly still did, to some degree. “We met at the Zodiac dance club,” she said. “He was bartending. I was out with a couple girlfriends, taking a break from our studies. We weren’t supposed to be drinking since we weren’t twenty-one at the time, but Armand liked me, so he began slipping us drinks.” Caterina sighed and stared above her. “He was handsome, charming, funny. We seemed to have an instant connection. I was completely taken in from the get-go. He asked me for a date that same night, I said yes, and on our first date, we…lit up the night like the Fourth of July. There was no ‘taking it slow’ with Armand. I’d only had sex with one other guy before him, and it hadn’t been very good. Armand set me on fire. We fucked like there was no tomorrow. It was our favorite thing to do.”
“So…” Flynn spoke low, a barely detectable hitch in his tone. “You stayed with him because he fucked good?”
“Maybe at the start,” Caterina admitted. “But…it was more than that. When we started out, he swept me off my feet, turned my heart and my world upside down in what felt like a really good way. I thought he was…” she turned her head and gazed at Flynn. “…the one. That special someone. Your soulmate.”
Flynn stared back doubtfully. “You thought he was the one?”
Caterina looked away, her throat constricting. “When I was twelve, my father died. I didn’t have a mother. No other family. I felt…lost, and all alone.” She cleared her throat. “I went to live with my godfather. He was a good man, and cared about me a lot, but I didn’t know him very well. His son treated me like a little sister and accepted me into their family without hesitation. But at first, I still felt so lonely. I missed my dad so much. We had been really close.” She swallowed thickly. “I started fantasizing about my knight in shining armor—my Prince Charming—riding up one day and whisking me away into a fairytale life filled with romance, true love, and…happy ever after.” She looked at Flynn and smiled, her eyes damp. “I was young. It’s easy to believe in all of that when you’re young and your heart hasn’t yet suffered the hardships of love and relationships.” She turned her eyes to the ceiling again. “I dreamed about it until I was almost fourteen, then it just…started fading away. I was getting older, and it began to seem silly to believe in fairytales. The pain of my father’s loss had dulled and I was part of new and wonderful family that I loved dearly. I felt safe again, loved. I wasn’t lonely anymore.”
Flynn stared at her but offered no immediate input.
Exhaling slowly, Caterina whispered, “Then I met Armand. And this dream I’d had when I was young, that I thought was gone for good…it revived when he took me in his arms and made me feel special, like I was the only woman in the world to him. I started believing in the fairytale again, thought I had found my true love. My…Prince Charming.” She closed her eyes. “There were so many things about us that I didn’t see. Important things that should have warned me that he wasn’t my gallant knight. But the fairytale was consuming. I felt in touch with my former younger self and, in turn, somehow made me feel closer to my dad again.”
Caterina fell silent; Was that it? Armand had been the one to revive the fairytale dream and a part of her couldn’t let go of that? Was her true fear—the fear of losing the fairytale again? If she let go of Armand for good…she would have to let go of everything he’d brought to life within her as well? Admit that it had all been an illusion?
You’re not a child anymore. You’re going to let Armand remain in control of your life because of a silly fairytale notion? She looked at Flynn and thought she saw the same question in his eyes. “I know it sounds ridiculous,” she whispered. “But I think I cling to it because it was my safe haven when my father died. The dream was my escape from the hurt, my refuge. And even though it faded away through my teen years, it never really left me. I guess I’m afraid if I let it go, I’ll feel vulnerable again with no place to hide. I didn’t understand it when I was younger, but now I think that…that a part of me needs that dream to come true for me to feel completely…safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“The pain of life,” Caterina murmured. “I guess.”
“There is no place where the pain of life can’t touch you,” Flynn said. “And there’s no one who can prevent it from touching you. The right person will hold your hand and walk through hell with you, but you’ll still being walking through hell. You’re just not quite as scared because you’re not alone.” He brushed his fingertips along her temple and into her hair. “Maybe the fairytale doesn’t exist. Maybe it does. Who the fuck knows? But you can rest assured that Armand is not it. Even you know that.” He leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “Right?” He planted kisses down her slick, heated throat and over the swell of her left breast as his hands moved with slow deliberation across her wet skin.
“Yes,” she whispered unevenly.
Flynn teased her nipple with his strong lips. The nub pebbled and was instantly sucked into his mouth.
“Fuck…” she moaned and grabbed his head. She’d hardly recovered from their recent wild fuck and already she wanted him again.
Flynn shifted and rested on top of her as he continued to suck her tit. Caterina spread her legs, allowing him to settle against her wet heat. His member was semi-hard and growing harder by the moment as it touched her slick folds and slipped between them. Caterina quivered when his thick muscle pushed down on her clit—still sensitive from her multiple orgasms—and slowly began to rub back and forth, grinding ever so lightly.
“Oh, my God,” she swallowed, trembling all over. “Do you ever turn off?”
He grinned around her nipple. “Do you?”
Caterina smiled. “Apparently not.”
Her wet nipple slipped from his mouth and he moved up and kissed her lips. His hips rocked with added purpose and she lifted to him, opening her legs wider as his cock glided slickly through her split. Flynn groaned into her mouth and ran his hands down her body, squeezing her hips, then her ass, pulling her up to his thrusts. His balls bumped her flexing hole and she ached for him to plunge inside her—raw flesh to raw flesh. But she would never take such a risk; not with a man she’d randomly picked up at a bar and who admittedly had many sexual forays with multiple women.
“Be honest now,” Flynn panted against her lips. “Nothing Armand did to you felt as good as what I do to you.”
“No,” she gasped and curled her legs around his hot body. “You are by far the best lover—the best fuck—I’ve ever had.”
Flynn smiled, genuinely pleased. “One quick question before we fuck again,” he murmured. “Does your ex still work at the Zodiac?”
“No.” Caterina felt the orgasm coiling inside her as Flynn
ground his cock on her sensitive button. “He…he’s working...” She swallowed, throat working, her inner pussy muscles flexing and clenching. “Uuuhhh…at…at Cowgirls…a strip club downtown—uuuhhh! God!” She clawed his back and arched suddenly, crying out, coming hard. Her nails gouged his sweaty skin and she bit his shoulder, puffing erratically. “Why?”
“Just curious.” He kissed her neck and smiled.
CHAPTER 9
“Persuasion Tactics”
______________________________________________
Cowgirls was practically empty at eleven in the morning. The stage was deserted and there were only a couple girls out on the floor, mingling with the few patrons seated sparsely among the tables. Flynn rarely visited strip clubs; he didn’t like to be teased and turned on without knowing he was getting fucked when the teasing was over.
A pretty blond emerged from backstage and immediately set her sights on Flynn. She wore skimpy glittery gold shorts that rode up her firm ass and a white half-shirt that melted around her large tits and exposed her flat, tight stomach. When she approached, Flynn noted the thinness of the shirt fabric and could see the dark shadow of her areolas as well as her hard nipples. She smiled and dragged one blood-red fingernail down his arm. “Mm. You’re new. Looking for a pick-me-up to start your day?”
Flynn looked her up and down. Had she been an option—and Caterina wasn’t currently dominating his cock’s attention—he would have fucked her without thinking twice. “Thanks, but I’m not here for fun.”
“Everyone comes here for fun.” Her neatly trimmed eyebrows twitched and green eyes beckoned.
Flynn had yet to cool down from his last fuck-session with Caterina and his cock jumped on reflex. If she had been truly interested in screwing him, he couldn’t say he would have turned her down. But he probably would have; he wanted to be jacked to the hilt by tonight when he got together with Caterina again. This girl was thoroughly fuckable, but she didn’t compare to Caterina.
