Chapter Eight
In some of the books Cassie had read, people woke up in their lover’s bed and it took them a minute to realize where they were.
But she knew. Even before she opened her eyes. The events of last night were at the forefront of her mind.
She smiled. She’d had amazing sex.
And amazing poutine.
But then she frowned. She shouldn’t be so happy about having a fun night with Blaine. She couldn’t let herself get used to this. Couldn’t let him break her heart again.
She didn’t believe in second chances, not after the pain she’d gone through. Especially not after what had happened with her mother. Those who didn’t learn from history were doomed to repeat it.
She rolled over and saw him lying next to her, reading an anthropology book. Damn, he was so handsome, his hair a little disheveled. And when he turned toward her and smiled like she was the only thing that mattered, she felt like the luckiest woman in the world. She was in his bed, wearing his Ottawa Senators T-shirt—because she hadn’t wanted to sleep naked, despite his protests—and he could touch her like nobody else.
Dangerous.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
She looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was nine thirty. Holy crap, she certainly had slept well. She rarely slept past nine.
He put aside his book and rolled on top of her. She loved being pressed beneath his weight, unable to move easily. When his lips followed her hairline down to the side of her neck, she squirmed in pleasure.
“I’ll take your lack of response as a yes,” he murmured.
He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, his hand squeezing the other gently, and swirled his tongue around the peak, making her arch against him. His cock was hard, digging into her stomach.
He slid back onto his knees. “Spread your legs and show me your pussy.”
She did as instructed, pulling up the large T-shirt so he could see her.
“Mmm. Yes.” He slipped two fingers inside her wetness. “You’re a horny little girl. But don’t worry. I’ll take care of you all morning.”
“I hope you won’t fuck me all morning. I’m not sure I could handle it.”
“No? That sounds like a challenge.” He gently moved his fingers in and out of her body. “But it wasn’t what I had in mind. I’m going to fuck you only once, then run you a bath while I make you breakfast.”
“And what happens after that?”
His gaze roved her body. “Well, when I was listening to you snore—”
“I snore?” she interrupted.
“Yes. It’s cute, I promise. No loud, ugly snores for you.”
No one had ever told her she snored before. Then again, none of her relationships had lasted long. She’d spent nearly as many full nights with Blaine as she’d spent with any of her boyfriends.
“Anyway,” he said, “when I was listening to you snore sweetly at four in the morning, I came up with a plan for the day. I’ll fuck you this morning, but I won’t fuck you again until after dinner. You’ll be desperate for my cock, and I’ll tie you to the bed like I did before. I’ll use you however I wish, for as long as I wish—as I told you last night. And you will lie there and please me like a good girl. Although, to be honest, you’ll probably talk back at least once.”
Her pussy clenched around his fingers. “What will we do for dinner?”
“We’ll go out. Somewhere nice—I’ll make reservations. But I doubt beavers will be welcome at the restaurant, so I’ll go to the mall this afternoon to get you something to wear.”
“You’re going to buy me clothes? Really?”
“I assume I can manage. But if you prefer, you can put on your beaver outfit and come to the store with me.”
“Um, no. I think I’ll pass.”
“I’ll buy a few things, and you can decide what to keep. What size are you?”
She turned away from him, slightly embarrassed.
“You’ve been naked a good part of the time you’ve been in my company,” he said. “I know exactly what you look like, and I think you’re incredibly beautiful. No number will change that.”
“Fourteen,” she said, still a little uncomfortable.
His response was to thrust his fingers deeper inside her, and she clutched the sheets in her hand. She could hear her body’s wetness as he thrust in and out, and she squirmed even more.
“That’s right,” he murmured. “You want it so badly, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What exactly do you want?”
“Your cock.”
“Like this?” He shifted his body up and pressed his cock against her lips.
“No…inside my pussy.”
“Ah. I’m glad you made that clear.” The corners of his mouth twitched. He slid down and pressed his mouth to her clit, circling it and making her nearly fly off the bed. And then she was bereft of his touch and his tongue once more.
She moaned in agony.
Blaine was the only man she desired this much. Johnny in a Big Bird costume, that kiss where their mouths smashed together awkwardly? Not the same. Not even close.
She continued to squirm. Blaine still didn’t fuck her.
He was wearing boxers and no shirt, dark hair dusting his chest. He was not what she’d call broad-shouldered, but he was still muscled. And his heated look contained a touch of mischief.
He rolled on a condom. With one hand, he gripped her wrists together over her head. With his other hand, he notched his cock against her, but he didn’t enter her, just slid himself over her slit.
She whimpered in frustration. “That’s not…inside. I—”
He shut her up by kissing her, continuing to leisurely slide himself over her. He was far more patient than he ought to be, considering he’d gone for more than a year without sex. When he leaned back, his blue eyes pierced hers.
The gaping emptiness inside her was unbearable. And judging by his smirk, he knew just how badly she needed him.
When he finally pushed inside, the smirk disappeared. He closed his eyes in what looked like ecstasy.
And she was the one doing that to him.
He set a slow rhythm, holding himself up on one elbow while his other hand pinned her hands over her head.
“Oh God,” she murmured. “Oh God.”
He was silent now, fucking her with an intensity that was too much and yet so necessary. Their bodies were joined together, and it felt like they belonged this way.
But it shouldn’t be like this, not after what he’d done to her. She shut her eyes, but that didn’t help. Every time he buried himself deep inside her, it felt as though he was leaving behind a shard of himself that would hurt forever.
His pace increased steadily, and she gave herself over to him, because she was incapable of doing anything else. When he grunted as he came inside her, she couldn’t help but cry out as she, too, found her release.
It was wrong that she should be so in sync with him.
He left the room afterward, as though he sensed she needed some time without him, but in a way, that made it even worse. He always knew exactly what she needed.
She heard him turn on the water in the bathroom. Running her a bath, as he’d said.
She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow and tried to slow her breathing. She could do this. She could spend a weekend with him and walk away with her heart intact.
She could.
“Cassidy?” he said a few minutes later.
She lifted her head. He was at the door.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yes. Of course. I’m fine.”
“Ready for a bath?”
He led her to the washroom and stripped off her T-shirt. She stepped into the tub. She thought he would make breakfast now, but he slipped into the tub behind her, his legs bent on either side of her thighs. She leaned back against his chest in the water that was nearly too hot, and she couldn’t bear to ask him to leave.
He grabbed a bar of soap and started lathering her up.
“It’s better than using your pink puffball,” he said.
“Hey. I like my shower poufs. I buy them in all different colors. They’re whimsical.”
“I suppose they are. But I was forced to use your silly puffballs with your girly lavender body wash for the whole week I stayed at your place. A bar of soap is so much simpler and more practical.”
“I guess it’s only fair that I use green deodorant soap when I stay at your house.”
“Yes. Although…” He was washing her shoulders now. When he put the bar of soap down and started massaging them, she tilted her head back in bliss. “I like how your skin smells of lavender. I almost bought lavender body wash once, to remind me of you.”
She felt a painful swell in her chest.
He distracted her by saying, “Puffballs are also a type of edible mushroom. They can get quite large. No idea what they taste like—I’ve never had one.”
“They sound too sophisticated for Georgeville.”
“I can try to find a restaurant that serves them tonight, if you like.”
“No, that’s quite all right.”
“What would you like to eat for dinner? Any requests?”
She shook her head, spraying water droplets. “Surprise me.”
“As you wish.”
He cupped her cheek, turned her toward him, and kissed her before climbing out of the tub. She watched the water drip off him as he reached for a towel. He was unbearably sexy.
“Actually, I do have a request,” she said. “Let’s go to a restaurant where you won’t look out of place wearing a suit.”
“You want to see me all dressed up?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Very well.” He smiled before leaning over and kissing her again. “Come downstairs in twenty minutes, and I’ll have breakfast ready.”
As soon as he was gone, she leaned back and submerged her head under the water.
Why, oh, why did he have to be so wonderful?
She’d told him there would be nothing between them but sex. She’d been convinced of it. How could there be any feelings left—other than bitterness—after the way he’d broken her heart last year?
But that wasn’t true. It wasn’t merely sex between them. She knew that now.
She had to make damned sure she didn’t fan those dying embers of love that lingered in her heart.
And there was one thing that would definitely put tender thoughts of hot baths and massages and warm breakfasts out of both of their minds.