Wild Forces: A Friends to Lovers Romance (O-Town Book 2)

by Karen Renee

  He slowed his thrusts. “Nope.”

  “I said, please.”

  “And that isn’t the magic word, Daughtry.”

  “Gabe! This is torture.”

  His pace increased and he grabbed hold of my hips and pummeled into me. “See, that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

  Laughter burst from me when I realized his name was the magic word. Such cockiness.

  I couldn’t hold myself up under his brutal thrusts, but before I could fall into the bed, his arm came under me to pinch my nipple.

  “Come, Cassandra,” he whispered in my ear.

  I didn’t think I would orgasm at his order, but it rushed over me and as I felt myself spasming around Gabe’s cock, I realized part of what I felt was also him twitching inside me.

  His weight settled on me and he peppered my neck with kisses. “I love fucking you, Cassie-Cass. Actually no, I just fucking love you.”

  I chuckled. “The romance is strong with you, Gabriel.”

  “Damn skippy,” he murmured against my neck.

  After kissing the curve of my neck and shoulder, he said, “Now, it’s time for steak!”

  Gabe

  RATHER THAN LET CASSIE get fully dressed, I offered her one of my dress shirts to wear while we made dinner together. She prepped the potatoes to bake in the oven while I fired up the grill on the patio.

  When I came back inside, the doorbell rang. I pulled my phone from my pocket, and the Ring app showed my Dad standing at the doorstep.

  “Hey, Cass, there’s another steak in the fridge. Can you pull that out real quick?”

  “Aren’t you gonna answer the door?” she asked.

  “Yeah, and that’s why we need the other steak.”

  Her eyes widened and I shook my head at her. “No, baby. It’s all fine.”

  “I’m going to get dressed.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I said, and grabbed her hand, pulling her with me to the door.

  “Gabe, I’m in your shirt,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, and you’ve never looked sexier.”

  I opened the door. “Hey, Dad. How’s it goin’?”

  He smiled and started to answer, but Cassie gasped, which diverted his attention.

  She nearly cracked my knuckles with how hard she squeezed my hand. “‘Dad’? And you didn’t let me change first?”

  “No, I needed you to get the steak out, so Dad can eat with us.”

  “Steak, huh? Sounds like I picked a great night to drop by.”

  “Come on in, Dad. This is Cassandra Daughtry. Cassie, this is my Dad, Warren Sullivan.”

  Cassie smiled and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sullivan.”

  “Warren, dear. Please call me Warren. I’ve heard so much about you, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Thank you. Gabe, you’re going to need another potato in the oven, too.”

  “You’re right, baby. Let’s do that, and —”

  “Gabe. I can put my potato in the oven. That way Cassandra can change if that makes her more comfortable.”

  Cassie shot me a look and I almost laughed.

  “Right you are, Dad. I’ll get your steak on the grill while you do that.”

  Twenty minutes later, the three of us sat down to eat. Cassie seemed more comfortable around my father, but then, she was wearing her shorts and t-shirt instead of my button-up.

  “So, Cassandra, Gabe tells me you’re working on an MBA. How long before you finish?”

  She swallowed a sip of her wine. “I should be finished in the spring if everything goes well the next two semesters.”

  Dad arched a brow at me. “She’ll have two degrees before you’ve finished one.”

  Cassie chuckled. “You never know, now that he’s declared a major, he might finish up pretty quick.”

  “So, Dad, what brings you by tonight?”

  He speared the last piece of broccoli on his plate. “Heard you and Brock had lunch with your mother. I was impressed, and thought I’d share that in person.”

  I sighed. “No need to be impressed, Dad.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. The way Brock tells it, you didn’t make things worse when he was being hard on her.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t. He told me to be nice before we met with her, but then he played the bad guy. Wouldn’t be right for both of us to do that.”

  “Are you meeting with a lawyer about the money?” Cassie asked.

  “No. Apparently, the funds have already been distributed to her, and she’ll just have to wire us the money when we’re ready.”

  “You going to share your plans for this money, son?”

  “Not yet. I will when I’m ready, Dad.”

  He sighed. “I do wish you’d consult with someone about it first.”

  “I offered to let my Dad or one of his partners look over his plans, but he’s feeling superstitious now,” Cassie said.

  Dad gave her a look. “Your Dad? Wait, are you related to Johnny Daughtry?”

  Her brows furrowed. “Do you know him? Most people call him J.P. but only people who really know him call him Johnny.”

  Dad grinned. “I met him years ago when I was active in the Chamber of Commerce. We played golf a few times, but I haven’t spoken to him in over a decade.”

  “Wow,” she whispered. Then she said, “Yeah, Dad hasn’t golfed in over five years. His back can’t take it anymore, he says.”

  “Happens to the best of us,” Dad muttered, putting the broccoli in his mouth.

  Cassie looked to my plate, and her eyes widened. “I can’t believe you haven’t inhaled your food like you normally do.”

  I grinned. “Steak is meant to be savored, doll-face.”

  “It’s good to know you listened to at least one thing I said over the years, Gabe,” Dad said, leaning back in his chair.

  “Even though it appears you didn’t,” I goaded.

  He shook his head. “No, I had no idea you had your girlfriend over, so not to be rude, but I’m trying to eat and run.”

  Cassie’s eyes shot to Dad. “Mr. Sullivan, don’t do that.”

  He smiled at her. “It’s Warren, dear. But seriously, I should’ve called. You would think I’d have learned my lesson when I dropped in the last time.”

  I chuckled. “That was pretty funny.”

  Dad gave me a look. “I don’t think Cecilia found it very funny.”

  I dipped my chin. “Women don’t find a lot of things funny that they should.”

  Dad closed his eyes and shook his head. “My boy, you’re gonna get yourself in some hot water.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr... er, I mean, Warren. I know about Gabe’s warped sense of humor.”

  After finishing his water, Dad took his plate to the sink.

  As he made his way to the door, he said, “Cassandra, after hearing so much about you, it was an honor to meet you. Tell Johnny that Warren says hello.”

  23

  Finding My Limits

  Cassie

  WHEN WE FINISHED EATING, I helped Gabe load the dishwasher. He headed out to the grill to clean it, and I found my sandals. By the time I had my purse, Gabe came back inside.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”

  “Gabe, I’m pretty sure Cecilia and Brock will be home soon.”

  “None of that tells me where you’re goin’.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “I’m going to my place.”

  “Nope.”

  I stared at him. “What do you mean, ‘nope’?”

  “I mean, you’re spending the night here tonight.”

  My head tilted. “And you didn’t think to include that in your text earlier?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. You’re stayin’ here.”

  I squinted an eye at him. “Why so bossy?”

  “Not bossy, it’s just how it is. I want to sleep in my bed tonight. Yours is okay, but I’m thinkin’ mine is better.”

  I exh
aled slowly. “That sounds remarkably close to bullshit, Gabe.”

  He stalked to me. “Honey, it’s not like your apartment is across town. I’ll set an alarm, and you can do all your morning stuff at your place.”

  “So, you’re bed comparing? Have I got that right?”

  His lips tipped up. “Essentially.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

  “Means I love you, you love me, and now that I’ve tapped into your kinky side, I want to find out where your limits are.”

  My eyes widened. “‘Limits?’ What are you—”

  He kissed me quiet, damn him. Just as I was getting into it, he pulled away.

  “Ever been tied up?”

  I shook my head.

  He grinned. “Well, we can certainly start there tonight.”

  “Tonight? But, shouldn’t we do this at my place? Your—”

  “Baby, I can’t tie you up with that fancy headboard you got, that looks more like the back of a sofa. My bed’s wood slats. Lots of ways to play.”

  My belly flooded with warmth and did a pleasant dip at the same time. “You’re joking,” I whispered.

  “No,” he whispered as he cupped my chin. “So, you can drop your purse, and ditch the sandals. Hell, ditch all your clothes, baby.”

  WHEN I REPORTED TO work in the morning, I found myself feeling muscles I’d never felt before. All compliments of Gabe finding my limits, and the reminder of how he did that made me smile.

  During the evening, Ryan had sent me several emails. The last one included instruction that all media invoices would be handled by Wendy.

  Something told me Ryan would limit my access to the digital copies of the other media invoices starting today, if he hadn’t done it already. With a few clicks of my mouse, I was able to pull up an invoice for a well-known radio station. Grabbing a post-it note, I jotted down their phone number and the name of the account executive handling the club’s business.

  Yesterday, I had saved a PDF copy of the invoice for WORL-FM. Like the other invoice, it included the address and phone number to the radio station. I grabbed my desk phone and called the station.

  The line rang five times, and then it went to an automated voice message. That seemed strange since most businesses, even if their phone system was automated, would have a menu to route the calls.

  I hung up the phone, and Ryan appeared at the door.

  His expression turned suspicious. “Personal call, Miss Daughtry?”

  I smiled. “No. There was no answer, and I didn’t want to leave a voice message.”

  “Did Rhonda show you the quarterly reports? I don’t have the second quarter report, and I need that as soon as possible.”

  “She did. I’ll get that to you before lunch.”

  “Great. And, you saw my message about Wendy handling invoices from the media? My thinking is that will help lighten your load since you’ll be going back to class soon, right?”

  I nodded. “If that’s what you think is best, then they’re all Wendy’s.”

  “Good. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  As promised, I sent the quarterly accounting report to Ryan just before lunch.

  I grabbed my purse and headed to a nearby diner. Once I finished my meal, I grabbed the sticky note and my cell phone. My call to our account executive at WPXO-FM went to voicemail, and I left a message to call my cell.

  The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur of paying vendor invoices and reconciling the account balance. On my way home, my cell rang. I used the hands-free on my steering wheel to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Cassandra Daughtry?” a female voice asked.

  “This is she.”

  “Hi, this is Megan Jones with WPXO.”

  I smiled. “Hi, Megan. I’m so happy you were able to get back to me.”

  “No problem. I’ve been trying to reach Ryan Pruitt for over a month. I know he’s crazy busy with the club, but I thought another live remote would help business.”

  My smile dimmed. “Ah, well. I’m not sure about that, I had more of a general question for you.”

  “Oh, you’re not able to make any buying decisions, or has he settled on an advertising agency to help him with marketing?”

  “Not to my knowledge. Listen, I was curious, are you aware of a new station in town called WORL-FM?”

  “I know there’s an AM station with those call letters.”

  I realized calling this station might not have been a good idea. “But, most of the radio stations in town are all owned by larger corporations, right?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And that isn’t one of your company’s stations with new call letters?”

  “Certainly not. Anytime a station has a call letter change, we know about it. Does Club Eclectic have a campaign running with this station?”

  “Well, I can’t get a hold of our contact there. The number goes straight to voicemail, not even a phone tree.”

  She paused. “You won’t have that problem with me, Cassandra.”

  “All right. I’m sorry, it seems I’ve wasted your time.”

  “No, not at all. Anything I can do to help, that’s what I’m here for, Cassandra.”

  I thanked her for her time and rang off.

  WHEN I GOT HOME, I quickly changed into a t-shirt and shorts. Then I pulled some frozen chicken breasts out and made my short-cut version of chicken tacos. After I mixed the seasoning packet with two-thirds of a cup of water, I poured it over the breasts, covered the Pyrex dish with foil, and put them in the oven to roast.

  My cell rang, and I saw it was Dad.

  “Hey, there. How goes things?”

  “Good, my dear. Are you at home?”

  “I am. Where are you?”

  “I’m pulling into your complex, and thought I’d drop by for a visit.”

  I smiled. “Okay. If you want, you can stick around for chicken tacos.”

  He chuckled. “That sounds nice, but I wasn’t planning to stay that long.”

  Five minutes later, I let Dad into the apartment.

  I opened a Sprite Zero and poured it into two glasses. “Any particular reason you dropped by?”

  He perched a hip on a stool. “Not exactly. Thought I’d hear how your job is going. I have to stop myself from calling you during work hours, but I’m curious what you’ve found out. If anything.”

  I pressed my lips together. “It’s funny you’re here. I found this invoice for a radio station I’d never heard of, but Ryan claims they recently had a call letter change.”

  Dad nodded. “That does happen.”

  I dipped my chin. “You’re right, but I got a call back from another radio rep today, and she hasn’t heard of this particular FM station, just those call letters but on the AM side. And, I tried calling the phone number listed on the station’s invoice; it went straight to automated voicemail, but not an automatic phone menu, you know?”

  Dad nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything.

  “And, this may be neither here nor there, but I had asked Ryan about this station last night before I left, but he brushed me off. When I got in this morning, he had emailed me to say his assistant would handle all media invoices moving forward.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, he says it’s because I’m headed back to class soon.”

  “How about you text me that phone number and whatever station info you have, all right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Now, I’d like a hug.”

  I moved around the counter to him, and after a long hug, he whispered in my ear, “Thanks for picking up Mom-cat, honey.”

  I pulled away from him, fighting the sting at my eyes. “No, Dad. Thank you for taking care of her like that. And, for taking care of her while I’ve been—”

  “Cassie, caring for Mom was never a hardship. I’m just sorry I wasn’t here the evening you picked her up.”

  I smiled weakly. “It’s all right. Gabe was here for
me.”

  He let me go. “Oh, really?”

  I rolled my eyes, but smiled. “Yeah. We’re, um, more than friends now.”

  Dad smiled. “Good. When do I get to meet him?”

  Three heavy knocks sounded from the door. “I’m thinking... now, since that’s probably him.”

  Gabe

  CASSIE OPENED THE DOOR, and her eyes looked like she might cry which alarmed the hell out of me.

  “Jesus, Daughtry, are you okay?” I asked, as I wrapped my arms around her to give her my signature bear hug.

  She lightly pounded a fist on my shoulder. “Sure, I am, Gabe, but, I’d like to introduce you to my Dad.”

  My spine straightened, and I looked over her shoulder to see an older man standing at the kitchen counter. His short silver hair accentuated his brown eyes. He was watching us closely. I smiled, and let Cassie go.

  He stepped forward. “Gabe, I take it. I’m John Daughtry, and I’ve heard quite a bit about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  I shook his hand, and it was nearly a textbook handshake. Firm squeeze with just the right amount of force. I could see where this man and my Dad would get along.

  “Gabe Sullivan. It’s nice to meet you sir. And hopefully, those things you’ve heard have all been good.”

  He smiled. “Yes. This is unlikely, but is Warren Sullivan your father?”

  I grinned. “Yes, he is.”

  “He still consulting?”

  My head wobbled. “Not technically. He retired officially three years ago, but he’s been known to do an odd project here or there.”

  “Well, it’s good to hear someone retired. My wife would like for me to do that, but I just don’t think I can putz around the house all day.”

  I really had no idea what to say to that, since I was looking down the barrel of working for the next forty-five or fifty years, I was certain. Luckily, Cassie jumped into the conversation.

  “Dad, you wouldn’t putz around the house. You’d be watching CNBC or day-trading at a minimum.”

  He chuckled. “You know me well, Cassandra Ivy. On that note, I’ll get out of your hair.”

  She walked him to the door and I smiled to myself, since now I knew her middle name. When she closed the door she groaned.