by Maisey Yates
Cassie continued. “You with your tattoos—tattoos when we were in high school. Badass. You and your motorcycle when I didn’t even have a car. I just couldn’t help but admire that in some ways. I still do. Because I did everything I was supposed to, everything. Got married to this guy who was supposed to be great, and we were supposed to have kids. My mother was thrilled with the decisions I made. The guy wore a tie to work. I still didn’t win, Jake. I didn’t win. Because Allen left me. Or rather, he kicked me out. But either way the end result was the same. He never had kids with me, he wanted to wait. And then he got remarried eight months after the divorce was final and by the time that happened they already had one on the way. Good behavior did nothing for me there. Nothing at all. And right now I’m standing here asking myself what this good behavior has ever gotten me.”
He’d underestimated her again. He always had. It hit him then the Nice Girl label he’d slapped onto her was just as limiting, just as much a simplistic lie as the Bad Boy label was on him.
She’d been hurt. Badly. And standing here facing that he had no clue how to handle it.
He cleared his throat. “I thought good behavior was supposed to be its own reward.”
She exploded, her tiny frame turning into a ball of energy as she paced around the apartment. “Where are my rewards?” She swept her hand around in a half circle. “Do you see them anywhere? I don’t see them. I live in an apartment that I don’t own, that’s going to get sold out from under me, and when that happens I’ll probably lose my business, too. I don’t have a husband, which frankly is fine, because a bad husband is worse than none at all. But ultimately my life isn’t anywhere that it was supposed to be.” Her dark eyes locked with his. “I’m tired of being good. I don’t want to be good anymore.”
“Then what is it you want, Cassie?”
“I want to have fun. I want to be bad. I want the one thing I was too afraid to go after when I was in high school.”
“I think you need to spell it out for me, just in case I’m misunderstanding.”
Cassie took a deep breath. “I want to be bad, Jake. I want to be bad with you.”
* * *
CASSIE WAS SHOCKED to the point of being horrified by her own actions. But things had been set in motion, and even though she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, watching herself say these things, hearing the words come out of her mouth, she didn’t seem to be able to control them. She was like a snowball that had started rolling down a hill, picking up momentum, picking up weight. And from her vantage point she could see that she was moving toward destruction and death. But there was no way to stop. Avalanche Cassie was firmly in motion, and she would not be deterred.
This was not her. This was far too bold. But she wouldn’t take it back now. Not even if she could.
“Let me get this straight, Cassie. You want to slum it with me?”
Her face burned, her heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe. “I don’t really like the way you put it. And sort of.”
“You object to me telling the truth?”
“I don’t consider you beneath me. So I don’t think the term slumming it applies. But I do think you’re what I need. You’re the kind of guy I need.”
“Okay, Cassie, let’s talk about exactly what you want.” Something had changed in his expression, his eyes becoming sharp, dangerous.
“I want... I want you.” She could not believe those words had just come out of her mouth. More to the point, she couldn’t believe how true they were.
She was a good girl, which she meant in that old-fashioned way her mother would use it. The way that was supposed to keep you out of trouble. Out of a situation like her mother had found herself in.
The truth was Allen was the only man she’d ever been with. And they didn’t even have sex until they were engaged. So obviously she had never solicited a guy she barely knew, much less a guy she knew things wouldn’t work out with. A guy she wasn’t even looking for things with. Not things other than sex, anyway.
“What, you want me to bake you a pie? You want me to pay for that last muffin? What exactly do you want, Cassie?”
He wasn’t going to let her get away with pushing the decision off on him. He wasn’t giving her a chance to blame him later, to say it was all his idea. He was making her say it. Making her claim it.
“Sex,” she said.
His expression hardened further. “Say it all.”
Oh boy, he wasn’t going to make this easy.
She took a deep breath, trying to hold on to her nerve. Although there was something to be said for losing her nerve. If she lost her nerve, she could back out. She wouldn’t have to tell him what she wanted; she could pretend this had never happened. And she could go back to being the very good, very sexually frustrated Cassie Ventimiglia, who had never once propositioned a man and never would.
The Very Good Cassie Ventimiglia who’d been celibate for three years, and would probably be celibate for three more, and on into eternity because her business ruled her life and she was gun-shy about relationships. Thirty-two, divorced and sexless for the rest of her life.
Either that or she could go play the slots at the nearby casino. Pick up on guys putting nickels in the machine.
Holy hell, if she wasn’t careful she wasn’t going to turn into her mother. She was going to turn into her grandmother.
Yes, she could lose her nerve. But then nothing would change. She would continue to be the same person she’d always been. She could stand on the other side of life’s raging storms, and look back and see herself walking through unchanged, unruffled and the same Cassie she’d always been.
But she had to wonder what the point was of going through a major life crisis if you didn’t let it change you for the better. There was none. It was as pointless as being good with no reward. It was as pointless as living what amounted to a nearly spotless life and still having your mother despair of you.
It was as pointless as finally getting up your courage to tell the hot tattooed boy you tutored that you had a crush on him, only to have him disappear the next day.
Cassie had had enough of that kind of pointless. But she wasn’t going to change without making the decision to change. And she wasn’t going to get her reward if she didn’t reach out and grab it.
She was damn well going to grab it.
She took a deep breath. “I want to have sex with you.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, and her eyes were drawn back to those tattoos on his forearms. They flexed and changed with the tensing of his muscles. Fascinating. And very, very sexy. “Are you sure, baby? You haven’t even kissed me.”
She swallowed hard. “Well, maybe we should change that.”
“You don’t even like me.”
“Do I have to like you to want to kiss you?”
He reached back and slammed the door shut, walking all the way into the apartment with a determined look on his face.
“Now that you mention it, honey, I’m not sure that it does matter.” He approached her, his expression transformed into that of a lean, hungry predator. And she was trembling like prey. But she didn’t even care. She didn’t want to run. Not even a little bit. She wanted to stay exactly where she was, so that he could catch her.
It hit her then, she would make a terrible gazelle, since she was just standing there waiting to be eaten. But she was wondering right now if she might be a half-decent temptress.
It was total craziness. Utter insanity. And she didn’t even care. In fact, she felt like it was her due. She felt like she deserved a bad decision mixed somewhere in the middle of all her extremely logical choices.
Because the simple fact was that though she had made technically right decisions, they had very much turned out to be the wrong ones. Things that had been intended to bring her happiness had only
brought her pain. And if things were going to be upside down like that she might as well get an orgasm out of it.
He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. He was hotter than she’d anticipated him being. He was hard, too, a solid wall of muscle, nothing like any other man she’d touched.
Her ex-husband had been thin to the point of being weedy. And bones were hard, but they were most definitely not muscle. She had already learned something new after five seconds in Jake’s arms. All male bodies were most definitely not created equal.
He lifted his hand and touched a strand of her hair, winding it around his forefinger. It was a nonsexual act. But there was something about the movement that was more sensual than anything she could remember before.
Another learning experience just two seconds after the first. A touch didn’t have to be under the clothes to be sexual. And when a man looked at you the way that Jake was looking at her, it was almost better than skin-to-skin contact.
She was certain of one thing already: this was going to go far and away beyond her level of experience. This was the kind of thing that would change her irrevocably. She didn’t have a string of lovers in her past, so there was no way that Jake would blend into the masses. There were no masses. She had a feeling that even if there were she would be facing down the same problem. Jake Caldwell would be unforgettable whether there had been one lover or one hundred. And she had to decide whether or not she wanted Jake to be unforgettable.
Silly girl, he already is.
She knew her smug inner voice was right. Because for fifteen years she had remembered him. Had remembered that touch in the library. Had remembered the way she’d felt when he’d looked at her. For fifteen years she had remembered him and he had never given her reason to.
Tonight he would give her the reason. Tonight he would give her a memory that would make her tremble every time she thought of him.
Yes. No matter what, Jake Caldwell would always be unforgettable. But the question was, would she always remember Jake as the one that got away, or would she remember him as the best sex of her life?
She looked at his face, at his dark blue eyes, his sensual mouth. The square jaw rough with dark stubble. He was incredible. He was a mistake any girl would be lucky to make.
Some people went out and got bad haircuts. Not her. She was going to get Jake.
There was no question about how she wanted to remember Jake Caldwell. She wanted to remember him as the only man to ever make her knees shake.
So there would be no losing her nerve.
He released his hold on her hair and moved his hand to cup her cheek, sliding his thumb across the ridge of her cheekbone as he continued to look at her intently. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. More beautiful than the sun setting into the ocean, or a view of the mountains on a clear day. He was more beautiful than a chocolate cake with birthday candles. And that was saying something.
“Are you just going to look at me? Or are you going to kiss me?” She was starting to wonder if Jake was losing his nerve. But that didn’t seem possible. She doubted Jake was afraid of anything.
“Getting impatient, honey?”
“Yes. I’m a little worried that you aren’t.”
“I am. Trust me. It might surprise you to know that I’ve thought about kissing you for a while now. To be honest, I’ve wondered what it would be like since I was seventeen years old.” He brushed some of her hair away from her eyes. “I knew it would be wrong. Because you were a good girl. A smart girl. You were helping me with my math homework, for God’s sake. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about it. I thought about what it would be like to lean in and kiss you, right there in the school library. We were the only ones there except for the librarian, and I bet we would’ve turned her hair a few shades grayer. But it would’ve been worth it.”
“You thought about kissing me?” Cassie couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even process what he had just said.
“I thought about it quite a bit. And I’m thinking about it now. But I find the anticipation makes it sweet.”
“What, fifteen years isn’t long enough?”
He chuckled, the sound rolling over her. “You may have a point.” He spread his hand on her lower back, squeezing her tight as he tilted her chin up.
She let her eyes flutter closed and she held her breath, counting down in her mind. In some way she felt like there had been a countdown running on this since they were seventeen. And now it was finally winding down, fifteen years later. And now at three, two—and then his lips met hers.
There was nothing in her imagination that could’ve prepared her for the reality of Jake’s kiss. It was quite simply too far outside anything she’d ever experienced before. His lips were hot, testing for a moment. He simply pressed them against hers and allowed the sensation of touching him in this way to bloom over her. To let the feelings slide over her like melting butter. Slow and warm, growing more liquid with each passing second.
Then he tilted his head, parting his lips, and she followed his lead. He took advantage of the improved angle and slipped his tongue along the seam of her lips. A shiver started at her core and radiated through her entire body. Her knees were already shaking, and they hadn’t even gotten to the good bits. Or rather, she was just going to have to modify what constituted the good bits in her mind. Because not a single part of this had been bad. Not a single part had felt like filler, while he was simply waiting to get to the rest. Every movement was intentional, every one something he seemed to be savoring. She felt desired in a way she hadn’t ever experienced before. She felt wanted. She felt needed.
It turned out Jake’s lips could say a whole lot when he wasn’t talking.
When they parted they were both breathing heavily.
Blue eyes burned into hers. “Tell me again why you want me.” It was not a request, but a demand. There was something dangerous in his expression, and she couldn’t quite translate what it was. What it meant. She only knew that there was a wrong answer. And that she was afraid she might give it.
“I want you because... Because if a girl can have a wild time, you seem like the kind of guy to give it to her.”
“What is this, some bad ’50s musical? Find a guy with a leather jacket and he’ll show you a good time?”
Her stomach twisted. “Don’t be like that, Jake. You know your reputation.”
“Yes, I do know my reputation. But I sort of figured you knew more than that.”
“Well, I thought maybe I did. But it turns out...”
“I took the money out of the register,” he said, his voice rough.
“I’m not upset about that. It was forever ago.” She had the strange feeling she had chosen poorly. But what had he wanted her to say? Had he wanted her to say that she wanted him because he was special? Because she’d had a crush on him since she was seventeen and this was wish fulfillment in a way he couldn’t possibly understand? Because from the first moment she’d known sex was a thing, she’d wanted him to be the one she had it with? He wouldn’t want to hear that. That would send him running screaming from the room. That was the kind of thing that sounded a lot like commitment. Neither of them wanted that.
“So you want a bad boy, is that it?”
She bit her lip. “If you want to put it like that. Sounds a little bit cheesy.”
“Why don’t we just go with it.” There was a hardness to his tone that disturbed her, but the heat in his eyes overtook any misgivings she had.
“I’ll go with anything you want to give me.”
“Now I like when you say things like that.” He rubbed his thumb along her lower lip, then leaned in and traced the same path with the tip of his tongue before dipping it inside her mouth again. The motion was hot, slick and it sent a wave of longing through her that she couldn’t control. Didn’t w
ant to control. Her stomach tightened, wetness pulling in the center of her thighs. She couldn’t remember a kiss ever doing so much for her. In fact, she was sure one never had.
She wanted to tell him that. She decided she would tell him that.
“I’ve never kissed anyone who is quite so proficient at it.” Great, Cassie. That’s how you talk dirty. Throw in some three syllable words.
A wicked smile curved his lips. “I’m proficient, am I?”
“Well... And sexy. So sexy.”
He chuckled, and she felt the weight lift off her chest. Maybe she hadn’t made him angry after all. “Just be you, Cassie. I don’t want you to be anything but you.”
“I don’t know if I want to be me. I don’t think she really knows how to do this.” She laughed nervously, hoping he wouldn’t hear just how shaky her voice was.
“You seem to be doing just fine.” She tried to look away, and he gripped her chin again, turning her face toward his. “Look at me, Cassie.”
She obeyed, keeping her eyes locked with his. “Good girl.” He leaned in, and she watched him, watched the intent in his eyes, the desire there. He angled his head and kissed her neck, kissed along the line of her jaw, to the sensitive skin of her throat. She was going to melt. She was going to melt in between all the cracks of the wooden floor, and when he went to sell this place, he wouldn’t be able to get a very good price because there would still be particles of melted Cassie lingering in the wood grain.
“Oh, oh, Jake...” She was panting, saying his name, powerless to do anything but beg. Because she was about ready to come just from a few kisses. And that was not like her at all. She was more of a dim lights, flowers, roses, romantic music, forty-five minutes of foreplay kind of girl. She was not an argument, three kisses, climax kind of girl.
Although Jake made her feel like she might be.
Jake made her feel like something entirely new. Jake made her feel like she was drowning. But in the best possible way.
He moved both hands to her waist, tugging her more tightly against his body, the warmth of his touch seeping through her shirt. It made her feel impatient. Impatient for his skin against hers. And that bit of contentment she felt simply luxuriating in the moment passed. Suddenly, she just wanted it all. Wanted him pressed tightly against her with nothing between them.
