Chapter Twenty-Four
Erin
I don’t know what I’m doing, only that I can’t stop myself.
Heat at the prospect of getting intimate with him courses through me. As I slowly begin to undress, the memory of Sam is forgotten, replaced with a need to succumb to the lust that seems to consume me whenever I’m in Cash’s presence.
I’m addicted to his kisses, his touch, his smile. There’s something about his soft, deep voice that draws me to him, and then there’s the curiosity whether he’ll make our next sex session as good as the ones before.
My pulse thuds so hard I can barely breathe. Peeling my clothes off seems to take forever. When I’m finally standing before him naked in all my glory, I sit on the edge of the sofa and motion for him to come closer.
He’s already hard, his shaft thick and long, gleaming with a drop of moisture. Suddenly, I want to taste him the way he’s tasted me.
Cash hesitates, but eventually does as I instruct. I place my hands on his hips and peer up into his green eyes a moment before I lower my mouth and suck him between my lips. He wraps his hand around the back of my head, but doesn’t force himself deeper into my mouth.
I run my fingers up and down his slick shaft and lean in, trailing my tongue along the tip. He tastes just I imagined it—masculine and heady. I glide him back into my mouth as far as I can, my lips tightening to give him more friction.
“Erin.” He sucks in his breath and lets out an appreciative groan.
As I start to rock back and forth in a slow rhythm, his groans intensify. He’s so big and hard, a trembling mass of tension, that it’s only a matter of time until he comes.
I let my tongue swirl again before sucking hard, alternating between teasing and guiding his hips to thrust into my mouth. He grips my head and lets out another groan, but instead of coming, he pulls out, his dick slick and glistening with lust.
“Did I do something—” I start when he flips me onto my stomach, cutting me off. A soft shriek escapes my lips as he pushes me back onto the sofa.
“What are you doing?” I turn to regard him and notice his green eyes are dark and hooded with lust. He’s so turned on that his cock’s huge, and dangerously close to my entrance. Instant moisture pools between my legs, readying me for what I desperately want.
“I don’t want to see you naked on your knees. I want to be inside you, and find out if you’re as sweet and delicious as you look like,” Cash growls.
“Then do it now.” I make eye contact and gasp as she presses his cock against me, rubbing his length from my clit to my core. His hands settle on my hips, drawing me closer to him, our bodies in perfect alignment.
He peers at me with concern. “You sure?”
I nod, and he presses his length against my pussy, rubbing it up and down against my clit, robbing me of my senses.
“Oh, that’s good,” I prompt, eager to get started.
“Is your pussy wet enough for me?” he asks in that deep rumble of his. “Let’s find out.”
Without waiting for my reply, he raises my hips a little higher, splaying me open before him. And then he’s inside me, stretching me the way I’ve never been stretched before.
I throw my head back and let out a whimper. It doesn’t hurt, but the sensation consumes me nonetheless. The sense of fullness is robbing me of all senses.
“More. Take me. Own me. Never let me wait.” I moan and lean back, my walls clenching to get more of him inside me. Desire thrums like the string of a guitar, pulsing and vibrating through my entire body.
“I don’t intend to, sweetheart. You are going to be mine...and mine alone.” For a while, he keeps still inside me as I get used to his size, but his fingers are playing with my clit, stroking, putting pressure, preparing me for what’s to come. I moan with pleasure and move my hips some more, silently urging him on because I can’t take the wait.
I have to have him now.
“Cash, please,” I beg when I feel I can’t take his torture any longer.
“Relax, baby,” he whispers, and I know that the safest place is here—with him.
Finally, his length thrusts into me, moving slowly until my moisture begins to ease the way. With each stroke I can feel my orgasm building, taking me to the brink of something powerful and amazing. My internal muscles begin to contract around him. And when he presses his fingers to my clit, the pressure is so strong it sends me over the edge.
And I take him with me, the heat of his release so strong it brings on another wave.
His hands let go of me and he collapses onto the sofa, drawing me to his chest. I snuggle against him, spent, my breathing short and labored as our hearts beat together.
***
I wake up, confused, unsure of where I am. The walls are colored in a soft blue hue. My first impression is that it’s still early morning, and the sun hasn’t broken through the thick curtain of last night’s clouds. And then I realize we’re still in Cash’s home cinema and there are no windows to let in the glorious morning rays.
My cell phone shows it’s already past 10 a.m.
I get up to gather my scattered clothes and notice the empty bottle and wine glasses littering the table. Some of the pillows are piled up in a telltale arrangement. My cheeks warm up as I remember Cash’s weight pinning me against them to ride me hard.
By the way, where is he?
There’s no sign of him. No note. Nothing.
Which can only mean he’s making breakfast.
I slip into last night’s clothes and make my way upstairs. The door’s open. On a hunch, I step into Cash’s bedroom and peek into his walk-in closet. Some of the hangars hang empty on the rack. The space where I swear I saw a brown suitcase is empty, too.
Obviously, I’m not familiar with the contents of his closet, but I’m pretty sure Cash packed up a few things.
My heart drops.
Swallowing the bitter acid rising in my throat, I check his bathroom and find it meticulously clean, but that’s not what worries me.
His toothbrush is missing.
Unease washes over me, followed by fury.
He wouldn’t just up and leave without telling me, would he?
Just because some clothes, his suitcase, and toothbrush are missing doesn’t mean he’s left. Right?
“Cash,” I call out and get no answer.
I head for the kitchen, half expecting to find him there, wearing nothing but a cocky smile. Or maybe we have a visitor, and he hasn’t heard me calling.
But the kitchen is empty, too. There’s no brewed coffee, no lingering smell of bacon and eggs. Not even the smell of his aftershave.
“Cash,” I call out again, even though I know better than to expect an answer.
More acid rises in my throat, choking me. Where the hell is he?
That’s when I spy Margaret through the window. My heart’s beating fast as I dash outside.
She greets me with a smile. “Erin, how are you?”
“Where’s Cash?” I ask, ignoring her question, my voice shaking with anger. I’m so livid I don’t mind that my hair’s a mess and my clothes are disheveled.
“Oh dear.” She regards me for a few long moments, her gaze prodding but not judging. “Let’s go inside. I’ll make you some tea.”
I fold my arms over my chest, not wanting to sound rude, but I can’t help myself. “I don’t need tea. I need to know where Cash is right now.”
“He left early this morning. My husband drove him to the airport.”
“Airport? Why would he…” Hundreds of thoughts begin to race through my mind. Why didn’t he wake me up? Why didn’t he tell me that he needed to leave? Why didn’t he bother leaving a note? I push them all to the back of my mind to focus on the conversation. “Did he say where he was going?”
“Only that it was business related and important.”
I nod. What could possibly be so important that he left without waking me?
Surely if it were an emergency, he would have told me.
“When did he ask you to take him to the airport?”
Her warm eyes meet mine, hesitating. But why? She’s considering whether to lie, but she won’t. I know it. “He asked us yesterday. He wanted to be picked up at six sharp.”
“Right. Of course.” I storm inside, leaving Margaret staring after me. Once I’ve reached my bedroom, I grab my phone. My finger hovers over the touchscreen.
I have to call Shannon. But what should I tell her? That Cash has just disappeared on me? I sink down onto my bed, my hands shaking.
Cash is an adult. He doesn’t have to tell me a damn thing. I have no right to inquire where he is.
Even though he told me that he loved me, we’re not in a relationship.
Absentmindedly, I swipe my finger over the screen. I’m on the way back to the kitchen when it lights with three texts, all from him.
I stop mid-stride.
My heart thuds as I read the first text.
Cash: Business emergency. Had to take the first plane.
I frown. That’s a lie given that he knew he had to leave and could have told me last night.
I move on the second text.
Cash: Won’t be back before the weekend. Please water the plants.
My frown deepens. Please water the plants? What the fuck?
The last message reads:
Cash: Enjoy your week off. I don’t know when I’ll be back.
That’s it? No more info? And why the formality? We fucked a few hours ago, and he treats me like I’m a mere employee.
The arrogant SOB.
I read the text messages over and over again, trying to make sense of them. But I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t understand why he’s being the way he is.
I should be grateful that he texted at all, but all those weeks together, his declaration of love and him telling me that I was important to him, they all made me feel like something magical was happening between us.
Clearly, I was wrong.
Maybe he wanted me to sleep in, get some rest. But why ask Margaret’s husband to drive him to the airport knowing I would have wanted to drive him?
Unless he thought I might ask questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer.
But why?
My heart skips a beat, then another. Without thinking, I start to type, my anger flaring up again.
Me: Why didn’t you tell me you needed to leave? I could have driven you to the airport.
I wait a few minutes. When it’s clear he has decided to ignore me, I draft another text.
Me: Where are you? Please call me as soon as you can. I’m worried. Tell me what’s going on.
Half an hour later, there’s still no reply, no sign he’s even read my messages. With every passing hour I get more anxious, unable to do anything but stare at the cell phone in my hand. I’m so anguished that I brush off Margaret as she offers to take me shopping.
As if Cash’s sudden aloofness isn’t bad enough, my sister texts me, forcing me to lie.
Debra: Guess what? I got the promotion. How was your week?
Me: Congrats. You deserve it. I had a great time. Gotta get to work. Kiss the kids for me.
I finish typing up a response to Debra’s text and then switch off my phone. A great time is an understatement. I’ve had a fantastic time. Everyone’s been welcoming, showing me how much they appreciate my work. Such a shame Cash doesn’t feel the same way.
Everything was perfect…until now.
Until Cash decided to leave without a word, as if I’m some acquaintance, his therapist, a friend, nothing more than a fuck buddy.
I shake my head grimly to fight off the moisture gathering in my eyes. I’m not crying because I’ve just realized he never trusted me; I’m crying because of the way he’s made me feel.
I feel dirty, used, taken for granted.
Sleeping with him was a mistake.
I should never have believed his promises because they were worthless.
New fact I’ve just found out about my new patient: Cash Boyd likes to waste no opportunity making it clear that I’m nothing to him.