Cascade

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Cascade Page 12

by Pamela Ann


  Plucking a glass, he began to pour a drink. He filled half the glass before handing it to me with a striking grin. “Here you go, princess. Guzzle, guzzle.”

  Murmuring my thanks, I swirled the dark contents of my wine glass, engrossed in the lingering dark stain it left on the crystal as I whirled it about. “For a second there, I thought you broke them all. Such a waste.”

  “It’s money well spent.” He chuckled, the hearty kind, one that sent me back to the good times.

  “Good to know there’s a sense of humor in there somewhere,” I remarked while I looked over at him as he took a good lengthy sip of his drink.

  “I’m glad you didn’t roll with it and use that to pick another fight with me.” He made another enthusiastic laugh, dark eyes dancing, twinkling as he amusingly gazed at me. “See … being nice isn’t that hard. I knew you could do it.”

  I matched his laughter. “Fine, all right, I’ll try harder,” I promised.

  I had to agree with him—being nice didn’t take much effort. I supposed I could try. It couldn’t hurt to be amicable with another. As we ate, he asked non-invasive questions, such as the latest film I’d been working on, the type of workout I had to strictly follow to get in shape. I even indulged him and told him how I had a healing guru. He almost choked on his drink. It was a great laugh. Healing gurus were for the health nuts, for the chakra-obsessed, folks who only surrounded themselves with people based on their sun and moon signs, people who believed the magical powers of crystal. This was the City of Angels, after all. People ran on different brainwaves here. And coming from the non-Hollywood life of Oxnard … Well, it was a bit of a shock. So, for me to humor myself with a healing guru, River had to question my sanity.

  “Do you go to those meditating groups where you whisper to crystals and shit?” River just lost it. He couldn’t stop laughing, so much so that tears began to roll down the sides of his face.

  “Don’t knock it till you try it, buster.” I tried to sound affronted, but it didn’t take long until I joined in on the bloody joke. His laugh was that infectious.

  This was Anton’s influence on me. I had a moment of weakness, and he came in for the kill. Admittedly, it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it was kind of soothing, not that I’d openly say it out loud.

  And no, we didn’t whisper to crystals and shit, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that. I mean, why waste a good joke, right?

  So, I rolled with his wit, continuing this pleasant jest we were sharing. By the time he was done, I could barely keep a straight face, which earned a few more teases from him.

  Finally, the bout of hysteria began to die down. From then on, the tension between us ceased to exist. The conversation flowed. He updated me on his music and other movie role offers, and I told him about how excited I was in this new territory my new movie role was taking me. It’d had been Martin Lombardo’s recommendation that prompted Bass Cole to suggest my name for the killer role of Ace, a two-katana wielding killer, hired secretly by the CIA’s dark operation division based in Asia. A group consisting of three assassins and their handler.

  A challenging role, which undoubtedly pushed me to my limit. A welcome distraction to my unending problems. This role saved me from destruction. The demanding training tested my body to its full capacity. Each ache, each blow my body received, I was grateful for it. Getting that call one morning was a godsend. For that, I’d forever be indebted to Martin and Bass.

  River, who loved movies as much as I did, obviously was curious about the story and the plot. They’d intended it to be a trilogy. All we were waiting on now was the studio’s green light so the writers could begin with the script, scouts to start searching for the perfect locations to film, and for the actors to align their schedules to fit with the allotted timeframe the producers had.

  It didn’t come as a surprise when I heard the jealousy in River’s voice. I was almost sure he missed making films. It’d been his life before he had taken music seriously and made a name for himself.

  In time, if the perfect role ever came across his lap, there was no doubt he’d eventually go back to the other love of his life, albeit temporarily.

  Chapter 15

  Cara

  Hopelessly drunk and sensationally stuffed from all the food I ate, we transferred from the dining room to the rooftop balcony. A line of cushioned loungers, a good-sized infinity pool, a jacuzzi, a fire pit, and lanterns were randomly placed everywhere, and in the middle of it all, there was a pretty arrangement of desserts beautifully arranged in a six-tiered porcelain stand, embellished with tiny beautifully crafted hanging crystals on each tier. Neatly stacked with colorful marzipans, a vast array of macrons in every color in three different sizes, mini eclairs and all sorts of other variety my taste buds would definitely and oh so thoroughly enjoy.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Like the ultimate gorger I am, I didn’t hesitate before trudging along, taking liberty at the delish delights laid out before me. “Aren’t you going to try any of these pretties?” I threw the question at the man who just took it upon himself to situate his towel-covered sexy ass in one of the loungers, casually lighting a cigarette before taking a long sensuous drag of smoke then shaking his head.

  He directed his gaze back to the sky as he lavished on his cancer stick. “I’m fine. Maybe I’ll pick some of yours.”

  Even if I couldn’t properly see him due to the dimness of the night, I could tell he was grinning from ear to ear. “Fat chance,” I retorted like the selfish fat-ass that I am. No one messed with my goodies. He knew better.

  While I my attention was consumed by more food, I stood right next to the circular table, testing whatever my palette desired. River, on the other hand, got up from the lounger after he finished smoking, went inside for a few minutes, and then came out with a tray of vodka, wine, a bucket full of ice, and two tumblers.

  “Vodka, party of one,” he announced as he passed by me before parking back in his old spot, lazing on the recliner in all his almost naked glory while he casually sipped on his iced liquor.

  Even from this angle, his eight-pack was downright incredible. And just as I expected, my body’s response fluidly reacted. The power of my mind could dampen and deflect everything—almost anything—except stifling the lewd attraction toward his magnetizing sex appeal.

  “Feel free to join me anytime, Cara,” said the sexy bastard.

  How could he tell I was staring at him when he was looking at the damn sky? Had he acquired some telepathic tendency I didn’t know about?

  Slightly frowning, I weighed my options. As much as it unsettled me to be close to him, I knew I had to join him sooner or later. The thing was, we’d been so comfortable with each other, talking, drinking, just catching up like old friends would. I didn’t realize it was so easy to fall back into the old pattern, and for a time, it seemed the past no longer mattered. We were simply two people talking, exchanging stories about our lives. And as much as I hated to admit it, a part of me missed his friendship.

  “You’re going to tease me until I go crazy, aren’t you?” he mischievously yelled just as he stood up, impishly eyeing me with a wild grin.

  “Can I … make you go crazy?”

  “You have no idea,” he playfully responded.

  Without disconnecting our gazes, the mad, brazen, hellish man instantaneously pulled his towel, superbly demonstrating his blatant arousal, showing just how much I affected him.

  My cheeks were beyond inflamed, but I couldn’t look away. How could I? I wanted him. It was difficult to deny that.

  Hand planted on hip, I arched my brow, grinning like a mad woman. “Look at you and your snooty, proud dick.”

  “It is proud and a little impatient.” He roared a string of chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes as he wistfully gazed at me. “But we’ll wait … always prepared to serve whenever you’re ready.” He even dared to make a mocking salute just before he dove into the pool.

  The desserts, as lovely as they wer
e, no longer held the appeal they had moments ago. My appetite’s fixation was now focused elsewhere … on the man who captivated me like no other men could.

  While River swam, I abandoned the sweets and strode toward the tray that sat on a rattan table next to the loungers. I’d been indulging in wine, so I opted for vodka on the rocks, like he preferred his. Then, instead of taking a recliner of my own, I took his. Before I got to finish my drink, River emerged from the pool, giving me an amazing view of his steel sculpted buns before diverting his attention toward the jacuzzi. He raked a hand through his wet hair before spreading his hands alongside the rim of the tub. Relaxed, he hung his head back then closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, evenly.

  “Cara…” he breathed out.

  It was a plea.

  He was begging me to come to him without having to say words aloud. I’d been purposely trying to keep him at arm’s length for quite some time now, and even then, there were tell-tale signs he’d been having a tough time trying not to touch me whenever he could. Yet, somehow, he managed to do so. A great feat for a man who rarely exhibited restraint when it came to sex. But the moment had come to a pass. It was high time we put this to an end. He’d given me enough time, accommodated me enough, to get accustomed to him—to his sheer presence.

  We’d been over this, but compared to the sudden rushed moment we shared earlier, this time, it felt more familiar. Something had been altered. Was it the shared laughs? The ease we fell into conversation, like the past didn’t exist? I couldn’t be sure. But I knew something had changed. To think we had mated like animals merely an hour ago...

  This unexpected shift—the altered energy between us—filled me with trepidation, heavily accompanied by a natural high. One that readily occurred at the thought of having him inside me again.

  Finishing the last of my drink, I gently placed the glass back down on the table. Ever so cautiously, I held my head high as I strode over to where he was still in the jacuzzi with his eyes closed.

  Standing right across from where he sat, I eyed him without hesitation as the hot steam rose from the tub.

  He looked downright magnificent just like that—eyes closed, relaxed, with no care in the world, the sophisticated arch of his brows, his toned broad shoulders, the stubborn jaw, and those strong large hands of his, soft and rough due to years loving a guitar. Skin what was once milky was now tan and golden.

  Just fucking beautiful, I shamelessly thought. My desire to have him escalated as the seconds ticked away.

  Unhurriedly, my right hand began to undo the loose knot on my terry robe before casually shrugging it over my shoulders, dropping it on the floor. It landed with a soft thud, a sound that made River snap his eyes open, only to find me standing before him, naked and ready for another round of passion.

  Those dark, beautiful bottomless pools held me in a trance. The mask had come undone. His gaze held raw, unadulterated ache, one so consuming—so pure—it left me breathless.

  The erratic beat of my heart was the only sound I could hear echoing in my ears as I slowly approached the steaming tub. Gradually, I stepped into the hot water, gently submerging my body into another world—his very own realm.

  The way those eyes held me—so carnal, so undeniably hypnotizing—the impact so profound which should’ve terrified me … yet I was mesmerized, spellbound by him. My body yearned for him in ways I couldn’t even begin to explain.

  I expected him to hold out his hand, a gesture of some kind to welcome me of some sort, but none of that occurred. Instead, the man simply gazed at me, anticipating, as I crossed the hot body of water, passing over jets before reaching him. The moment I did, I postponed for a beat or two, hoping he’d take the initiative, but I was left wanting.

  River was giving me the helm, another unexpected gesture.

  So how did I go about with this? My mind drunkenly tried to conjure a sexy scenario, but River was distracting me from doing so. He made it difficult to think when those penetrating eyes explicitly watched me, and when that notorious tongue stuck out to lick the bottom of his lip, my nipples instantly hardened just as a potent surge of slickness trickled out of my slit.

  Yes, my body couldn’t lie. It was profoundly aroused watching him watch me.

  This pseudo-mental dance, this erotic ritual, the heady rush, the intoxicating way our eyes conveyed our lustful desires—it was driving me insane. Damn him for being so calculating all the time. Why couldn’t he just yank me again like he did an hour ago? Why put me in such agony? Fuck.

  Okay, this isn’t a big deal, Cara. Calm your titties, babe. You can do this.

  Could I?

  I so could. This wasn’t a huge deal. I’d seduced men. Heck, this wasn’t my first rodeo. So, take charge. Rock this bad-boy’s fucking world. Hell, go for the damn universe while I was at it. River wouldn’t know what had hit him.

  Newly induced by sexual confidence, I leaned over him, planting each of my hands on the side of his head as I gently lowered my body, gradually straddling him until the tip of his cock hit the edge of my opening.

  Upon the rush of impact, River and I stared at each other, mouths ajar, slightly panting as the steam enveloped us. Giving us privacy, as if we were in our own little world. No one and nothing else mattered as we held each other’s gazes.

  His throat bobbed, eyes dilated as he regarded me with raw hunger and awe. “I want you, but don’t fuck me yet,” he gruffly huffed out. “Let me enjoy you … Do me slowly, Cara.”

  I incredulously gaped at him, wondering if he just lost his mind. But his determined face said it all. He had meant what he’d said; hence prolonging this mad yearning I could barely control. He was requesting restraint, a strange notion I hadn’t mastered when it came to sex and River combined.

  I came to him, thinking we’d both get what we wanted. Now I must learn the art of delayed gratification. A huge part of me urged to fight it off, but another part argued this could be a great opportunity to show him I could control my needs, as well. Just as easily as he did.

  Biting down on my bottom lip, I merely nodded as I cautiously shifted my position, ensuring my entrance wasn’t anywhere near the tip of his shaft, but basically sitting against it.

  The need to protest grew thicker as moments went by, but my mind drew a blank when his teeth captured a nipple just as his thumb found my clit, simultaneously stimulating both sensitized areas. His free right hand found my hip, urging it to rock against him, guiding it back and forth, sliding it along his thick, rigid length. The multiple sensations these ministrations induced was downright mind-blowing.

  “River…” I begged. “Please.”

  Instead of granting me his cock, he basically upped the rhythm, intensely, heatedly rubbing my already sensitive nub further.

  I let out a harsh moan, my body tensing as I felt the familiar glorious rush of the incoming tide of orgasm. A second away from release, River abruptly stopped, letting go of his hold on my hip and the thumb putting immense pressure on my button.

  While I was feeling out of sorts and beyond outraged to be deprived of release, River pacified me by kissing my breasts, slowly leaving trails as he ventured higher, against the crook of my neck, the edge of my jaw … I let out a muffled moan, one made of frustration.

  He chuckled against my neck before biting down on it heartily, sinking those sharp bastards into my skin, the very part where it triggers more arousal. I was about to voice a protest when his most eager hand found my hip again. This time, he need not guide me, I rocked his dick like no one’s business. I was after my own orgasm, chasing the high, hunting the exhilarating climb to the very peak of nirvana that edged on oblivion.

  In no time, I experienced the first pangs of the familiar low-throbbing feeling deep inside my womb. If I carried on at this maddening pace, it’d wouldn’t take much until I got what I desired.

  I felt crazed, a complete and utter fiend, solely focused on completing my needs. But I was past consciousness. My body had taken hold of me, dict
ating what it needed, and it needed it immediately. The trickle of wetness became an unstoppable gush, making the friction between our bodies even more pleasurable.

  Eyes closed, I threw my head back, gasping, moaning like some wild animal, completely untamed and uncontrollable. And just when I thought I couldn’t bear it, River slid his middle and forefinger into my mouth.

  “Keep riding me. Suck on my fingers like it’s my cock you’re sucking, Cara.”

  I immediately obeyed as asked.

  Completely out of my mind with lust, I felt the first spasm of release, and then another wave came … then another. The hits came one after the other, barely giving me any time to breathe—to think—shuddering as I screamed with each wave. And just when I thought I couldn’t handle any more, River proved to me otherwise. He chose the exact moment to surge his fat dick into my tunnel, pistoning his entire engorged length into my channel in a swift, hasty execution.

  From the multiple orgasms to this ... My mind hardly functioned as River took charge and fucked me like he meant every thrust as a lesson. My mind reeled. My entire body tensed. I saw white. I saw black. I panted, screamed, and wailed as my body seized while a new wave of spasms washed over me.

  “Damn you… oh, God … OH. MY. Gooooood!!!”

  I came again. However, this time I almost blacked out, in and out of consciousness. It could possibly be due to the power of my release. Or my drunken state and the ceaseless onslaught on my body, one overwhelming sensation after the other. Add jet lag and stress … One didn’t have to imagine the outcome of such an intoxicating mix.

  I was, without a shred of a doubt, a complete and utter mess. Yet I’d never been so sated—so content—in a very long time. Vaguely, I could still recall River viciously coming inside me while whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

  It’d been spotty, but I was damn sure the man carried my mumbling self from the tub to the bedroom. But before depositing me onto the mattress, he tried his best to towel me dry while leaning me against a wall. However, I was so exhausted I’d end up sliding down or almost falling on my face. As a result, he eventually gave up on that and took me to bed, instead. I’d expected him to leave, but he took the spot next to me, gathering me in his arms to cradle me to sleep. I remembered incoherently mumbling some words of protest, but they fell on deaf ears. Maybe they were just some inarticulate ramblings River couldn’t possibly decipher.

 

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