Coming Altered: Welcome to Carson, Book Four

by Renee Harless

  He gently lays her on the bed before standing. And, in what is the quickest removal in history, Harlan expels all of his clothing and grabs a condom from his top dresser drawer.

  As he approaches the bed once more, Cassidy looks at him through sleepy eyes, her pussy now bare from the panties, and reaches her hand out for him to take.

  Before he places his hand in hers he gets a glimpse of her swollen pussy and a new desire takes hold, a desire to do something he hasn’t craved in years – he wants her taste in his mouth. Gripping her bent knees, he kneels before her and extends his tongue from his mouth, licking upwards, her gasp of surprise echoes through the room.

  An outbreak of sweet yet tangy flavor explodes on his tongue, something akin to passion fruit, and he finds himself licking at every millimeter of her exposed skin. His cock hardens painfully and he knows he needs to bury himself deep inside her to soften the ache.

  He flicks his tongue against her clit before sucking on it between his lips. Beneath the fingers he has wrapped around her thighs, he feels her muscles begin to shake. Harlan removes his face from between her glorious legs and places his hands under her arms, moving her further up the bed. He crawls over her body and the space between her legs widens, welcoming him closer.

  His mouth hovers above Cassidy’s, his dick waiting at the entrance to her core, and just when he thinks it can’t get any better, she smiles up at him. And not just any smile – a smile of trust, a smile men go to war for, and Harlan is lost to her.

  Bending down, Harlan seals his lips against hers and guides himself into her body simultaneously. She moans against his mouth and reaches one of her hands around to claw at his back while the other finds solitude on the upper curve of his ass, pulling him harder and faster against her body.

  “Oh, shit,” Cassidy softly exclaims as she pulls away from his mouth.

  Harlan rears back and uses his hands to grip her knees and broaden the room between her legs further. Without delay Harlan begins slamming into her over and over as she cries out in ecstasy.

  The pressure developing in his lower spine begs him to close his eyes as his release builds, tightening his balls, and hardening his dick further. But he battles against himself. The ache to watch Cassidy climax from his cock overpowering the ache building inside him.

  As his knuckles whiten against their hold of her knees, Cassidy begins to cry out, “I’m coming. Yes, please. Don’t stop.”

  “Fuck yes, sweetheart. Take me. Come on my cock,” Harlan retorts.

  When her body starts to quake, and milk his erection, he slams into her twice more before releasing into the condom.

  Sadly, and strangely, Harlan wishes that there had been nothing between the two of them. He wishes he could have seen his cum dripping from her body and felt her insides without the barrier.

  Harlan leans forward and places a gentle kiss on her lips before pulling himself free and removing the latex barrier. After tying it off, he tosses it into the waste basket next to the dresser and lies down beside Cassidy, who has yet to move from her spot.

  He tugs her into his arms and she rolls over to face him, running her free hand through his hair.

  “That was…” she begins but seems unable to voice her feelings as she looks at him contentedly, but he knows what she’s feeling because he feels it too.

  “That was incredible. You’re incredible, Cassidy.”

  She nods in agreement as a yawn overtakes her features and she closes her eyes sleepily, burrowing closer to his body. Harlan reaches over and grabs the edge of the duvet and covers their naked bodies before closing his eyes and placing a kiss on her forehead.

  “Never done this before either,” he says into her hair.

  Groggily she counters, “What’s that?”

  “Held somebody.”

  “Hm…” she reacts as her body completely relaxes against his in sleep.

  Harlan smiles as he drifts off, content with the way his day has turned out.

  The next morning Harlan wakes to find an empty bed and an empty apartment.

  “Cassidy?” he calls out, though he knows he won’t get a response, her clothes and her purse are gone from the floor.

  She had called this a one night stand after all. He should have told her that he wanted to see her again, that she makes him feel things he hasn’t felt…ever.

  Harlan stands from the bed and almost misses the tiny piece of cardstock that flutters towards the floor when the blanket is pushed aside.

  “Well, fuck,” Harlan mumbles to himself.

  His desire to ball up the paper and chuck it across the room is strong, but instead he places it neatly on the edge of his dresser beside his wallet.

  “This isn’t over yet, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”

  Three months later

  ASSIDY TWISTS AND TURNS within the rumpled mass of sheets on her queen-sized bed. Visions from her one night stand months ago still plague her during the night – a fantasy come to life, or a nightmare; however, she feels when she wakes in the morning.

  Cassidy can still feel the press of his lips against her neck. The roughness of his calloused fingers on her skin. The fullness of her core as he thrust deep inside her. She hasn’t been able to refrain from living through the motions of that night over and over again.

  And it is driving her crazy.

  Thank God Shelly has turned out to be the godsend Cassidy felt she would be. To say the woman was surprised when she walked into Cassidy’s uptown New York design studio would be an understatement. The poor woman actually squealed with fright when Cassidy officially introduced herself and she tried to flee apologizing that she had misunderstood Cassidy’s proposal a few nights prior. But she was in the right place and Cassidy had needed the extra help organizing her life.

  Shelly took one look at Cassidy’s planner and shook her head before establishing a new system and calendar to help keep Cassidy on track. It was perfect. And it kept Cassidy from going insane when she showed up to work on a couple hours of sleep and zero comprehension.

  Instead of wishing she could find a few more hours of shut eye, Cassidy decides to move her body from the bed. She throws on a pair of spandex pants, a sports bra, tank top, and a pair of extremely underused running shoes. She makes her way out of the apartment with the hope that a run around the neighborhood in the early morning light will be enough to clear her head of the man that refuses to leave.

  An hour later Cassidy returns to her apartment, Starbucks coffee in hand, and a large scrape on her shin, because having an argument with yourself as you run, and trashcans along the sidewalk, don’t mix.

  Finishing off the cooling cup of joe, Cassidy tosses the paper container into the trash and moves her way back to her bedroom to get a quick shower before heading into work. She and her employees have off the next two weeks for the winter holidays and Cassidy can’t wait to head back to her hometown.

  Carson, North Carolina is a place so small that it barely registers on a map, and growing up Cassidy had hated it, leaving the first chance she could to attend fashion school in New York. But now? Now Cassidy craves the familiar, the sense of comfort, the feel of Home. New York was everything she needed when she needed it, but now she yearns for something more.

  Bringing herself back to the present, Cassidy’s phone buzzes from its placement on her night stand. Reaching over to grab it she finds a text from her sister Avery, well half-sister.

  A few weeks after the fateful night Cassidy can’t seem to forget, she had travelled home to visit her family. One of six siblings, Cassidy loved that they all did their best to meet up with their parents for dinner on Sunday’s at the local diner. Cassidy and her brother Ryker didn’t make it often, but when they were in town they never missed it. During this one particular visit, her brother Austin’s best friend Logan had joined them with a beautiful brunette at his side. It was strange, but not unheard of at their dinners. Until her father introduced the woman as Avery, their half-sister from an affair he ha
d when Cassidy was three. Her parents both claimed they had been separated at the time and learned of Avery’s existence four years later.

  Cassidy admits she was taken aback at the thrill and sincerity in their eyes as they introduced Avery to the family. They loved her because she was theirs and in turn Cassidy loved her too. Not just because she was her sibling, but Avery had a heart of gold and a longing for affection.

  Cassidy and Austin, her eldest brother, had welcomed her sister with open arms though the rest had a tough time dealing with the change in family dynamics. But by the time Thanksgiving had rolled around everyone was on board and no one would look at their family and think that Avery hadn’t always been a part of it.

  Opening her messaging program Cassidy finds the urgent text waiting for her.

  Avery: I need your help with something. Call me ASAP!

  Alarmed, Cassidy responds quickly.

  Cassidy: Just got back from a run. What’s up? Are you ok?

  Avery: Yes, sorry. It’s not an emergency, just call me sometime today?

  Cassidy: Will do!

  Tossing the phone back on the night stand Cassidy rushes through her shower throwing her hair into a sleek French twist as she exits followed by a pair of black denim pants, black silk camisole, and a white blazer. Adding her favorite pair of black stilettos on her feet and Cassidy is ready to go.

  New York is going through a bit of a winter heat wave and the temperatures are in the mid-fifties, which for Cassidy, who hates the cold, is delighted that it feels like a warm spring day.

  As she exits her secure apartment building, she waves to the security guard and bypasses the waiting taxis, opting to flag down one of the waiting town cars. It may cost a bit more, but hey, she feels it is worth it.

  Shielding her eyes behind a pair of aviators, Cassidy relaxes back into the seat, watching the world pass her by outside the tinted window. As the car comes to a halt at a stop light, Cassidy’s world tilts when she spies a man carrying a guitar case along the sidewalk, preparing to enter a warehouse building.

  She narrows her eyes looking for any distinguishable features that the man before her is the man plaguing her dreams, but he moves too quickly and enters the building before she can get a good look at his face.

  She knows it must have been him. Besides the fact that the adrenaline coursing through her body has her heart palpitating at an unhealthy speed, she can feel the tingling building along all the pressure points where he had gripped her body three months before.

  Heaving breaths overtake her and she must close her eyes tightly in the hopes to compose herself. Then she has the overwhelming desire to know more.

  “Excuse me, sir? Do you know what that building is?”

  “The gray one there?” he points out. “That there is the Technical School for The Arts. They teach any and everything creative in that building. My niece went there for piano before she got accepted to Juilliard.”

  Wow, Cassidy mouths before slouching back in her seat.

  “Thank you,” she mutters before bringing her fingertips to her lips where the tingling has begun.

  Before she realizes it, the town car is pulling up in front of Cassidy’s building. After paying the driver, Cassidy slips her sunglasses into the front of her shirt and makes her way up the stairs to her office.

  Shelly stands at the front desk and greets Cassidy warmly.

  “Good morning, Cassidy.”

  “Good morning, Shelly. How is your little boy feeling?”

  Shelly regained custody of her son when she was able to show that she had money in her savings, given to her from Theo, and a job lined up which Cassidy verified with the state herself. A week after meeting, Shelly’s life had completely turned around. She looked less tired and aged, much closer to the thirty-four years of age she actually is. She even has a boyfriend that she met at one of the magazine shoots Cassidy had brought her to. The model had been taken by her at first glance and the two made the cutest couple.

  “He’s doing much better. That stomach bug seems to have finally worked its way out of his system. I just hope Lucian doesn’t get it. He has that photo shoot on Monday.”

  “I’m glad to hear that Abel is feeling better, and good luck to Lucian if he gets it,” she chuckles. The stomach bug is not something Cassidy was fond of, it kept her from attending Fashion Week the year before. “So, what’s on the docket today?”

  “Your schedule is pretty light, just a few editorial checks, but I do have a call scheduled for you in about fifteen minutes with Maxwell at M.X. Records.

  “Oh,” she says as she grabs the stack of files with the editorial folders from the corner of the desk. “Do you know what it’s about?”

  “No, he didn’t say. And I verified that you’re ahead of the production schedule with the upcoming summer line. And the spring line has shipped to retailers.”

  Cassidy smiles down at her eager worker as she passes the desk.

  “Thank you, Shelly. And after my call feel free to take off early. Enjoy your vacation.”

  Shelly beams and thanks Cassidy before turning her attention back to the electronic calendar in front of her.

  In her office, Cassidy has enough time to finger through the photographs in the file folder, deciding which ones would be a good fit for advertisements, before her phone rings.

  “It’s Maxwell at M.X. Records on the line.”

  “Go ahead and put him through. Thank you, Shelly.”

  Picking up the phone Cassidy greets Maxwell.

  “Cassidy, Maxwell Hoolihan. I’m going to keep this short. You’re a businesswoman and I’m a businessman and I’m in a bind. The designer we had hired to do the costumes for my biggest selling artists just went off the deep end and left us high and dry. You’re the best of the best and I’ve seen your stuff, well not me personally, but my assistant has and recommended you.”

  She listens as the man talks in such rapid pace he reminds her of the old sleazy salesmen she would watch on television. Finally, the man takes a breath and Cassidy uses that as her cue to cut in and learn more.

  “Mr. Hoolihan…”

  “Call me Max.”

  “Max, as I was going to say, I am able to do a lot of different elements of design. What are you looking for? What kind of artists are these? What kind of work are we talking about?”

  “Look, I need something edgy; these are rock stars we’re talking about, Exoneration and Hell’s Kiss. I need sixteen sets of costumes, some for tour, some for photos. The kicker is I need you to travel with the band because these kids don’t take it easy on their clothes and I’m going to need you to mend them as needed.”

  “That’s a lot to ask of someone. What time frame are we looking at?” she asks as she pulls up the electronic calendar that syncs with Shelly’s, not mentioning the fact that Exoneration is led by her own kid brother, though the smile on her face speaks differently.

  “The tour leaves in twelve weeks and lasts for six. At this point I’m willing to throw in your own bus for the travel and cover your expenses. I’m in a bind, doll, and I want your help. Think of what this could do for you.”

  “I’m not sure, Max. This is very short notice and I’m in the midst of finalizing my summer line. I’ve never even met the bands. How will I know what their sizes are and what you’re looking for? You’re also asking me to create roughly two hundred outfits on top of my own fashion line, I’m not sure I have the manpower for that.”

  “You can do it. Did I tell you how much this will pay? Of course not; you’re in the business, you need to know the payout. We’re talking about a million buckaroos here, kid.”

  “A million dollars for a band tour?”

  “These kids sold out all cities in less than two hours. Their merchandise alone brings in a million dollars. This is just change.”

  Cassidy sighs as she looks over her calendar, nothing jumping out that she wouldn’t be able to do on the road. It’s almost perfect timing and the workload alone will help ke
ep her mind out of the clouds and away from those damn green eyes that plague her dreams.

  “I’d like to do it, Max, but I need to meet with the bands first.”

  “Perfect. Wonderful. How soon can you get here? The bands are meeting up in an hour to go over their riders.”

  “Oh! Um…” she begins as she glances down at the rose gold watch on her wrist. “I can be there in an hour. I have a few things here I need to finish up.”

  “Wonderful. Perfect. See you then,” Maxwell replies as his phone slamming echoes in her ear.

  Closing the file still resting on her lap, Cassidy leans forward on her desk and rubs her temples with one hand. Taking a moment to gain some clarity, she reaches forward and buzzes for Shelly to come back to her office.

  They have a ton of work to figure out.

  An hour later, and a completely clear calendar for the month of April and May, Cassidy strolls into the M.X. Records building. To most, the obscenely tall glass building would be an opposing site, but to Cassidy, it’s just another piece of the city she will not miss. During her conversation with Shelly, she pondered the idea of running her business from Carson, allowing production to stay the same, but she would only need to visit onsite as needed. She now has the manpower and the brains in her operation to take that leap.

  The dark hair, nose pierced, tattoo covered receptionist practically snarls at Cassidy as she walks in. Clearly her typically sophisticated attire wasn’t one commonly seen in this crowd, but Cassidy smiles brightly and rests her arms on the top of the stainless-steel counter showing off the edge of her tattoo sleeves hidden beneath her jacket. The young man behind the counter glances back at her questioningly before speaking up.

  “Can I help you?” he says, his voice ending in a puberty ridden crack.

  “Yes, I’m here to see Maxwell Hoolihan. Please tell him that it’s Cassidy.”

  He nods and dials a number on the phone as he tears his eyes away from hers.