Rachel
Caine surprised me by returning to the bed with a warm facecloth and gently washing me up. No man had ever been so tender in aftercare with me. The way he took the cloth to my sensitive skin was so intimate and thoughtful, it made my shoulders—which had tensed when he’d gotten up—relax again.
“Good?” His voice was low and soft.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He disappeared back into the bathroom, and I heard the sink run for a few minutes. Then he emerged again. He was quiet as he picked up his clothes, slipping on his boxers and then jeans. Perhaps I’d relaxed a bit too prematurely.
“What are you doing?” I tried not to sound too snarky, but didn’t quite hit the mark.
He was looking down, zippering, and stopped to look up at me. “Getting dressed.”
“I can see that. But is there a reason you’re running out the door so fast?”
Caine’s brows furrowed. I realized he hadn’t even given any thought to what he was doing. He was on autopilot.
“This is what you do every time after…you’re with a woman, isn’t it?”
His jaw flexed. “It’s late.”
“Whatever. Go.”
I looked away, not wanting to let him see the disappointment I knew was impossible to hide on my face. The rustle of clothing pissed me off more and more each second. Five minutes ago he’d been so sweet and tender, and now it was back to Professor Asshole.
I couldn’t help myself. I was, after all, feisty. “You’re really an asshole, you know that?”
Caine froze, buttoning his shirt. “I believe you’ve told me that before, so yes, I’m aware I’m really an asshole. What I’m surprised about, though, is that you don’t seem to be as aware of it as I am, yet you’re the one who likes to remind me of my asshole status.”
The man could get me so damn angry. It was like a switch flipped inside of me and I turned into some psycho bitch I didn’t recognize.
“Are you going to leave cash on the end table?”
His eyes blazed. He was silent as he glared at me. I braced, waiting for the response I saw coming.
“I don’t think you’re a whore, Rachel. In fact, I think you’re just the opposite—a nice girl. That’s the problem.”
“What are you talking about?”
Caine finally looked me straight in the eyes to answer. “When things end, or better yet, when I fuck things up, I’m going to hurt you.”
“You don’t know that.”
He scoffed. “Yes, I do, Rachel.”
Deep down, a part of me knew he was right. But I couldn’t let him see that. “You’re so full of yourself, you’ve already decided you’re going to break my heart. Did you ever stop to think maybe it’s me who will break your heart someday? Maybe I’m just using you for your body.”
Caine’s brows rose. I was completely full of shit, of course, but he didn’t need to know that. All he needed to do was stay. I wasn’t ready for him to leave me. Not tonight…not yet.
When his eyes dropped to my breasts, I was reminded that the one thing Caine couldn’t deny was his attraction to me. So, I’d have to capitalize on that until I could figure out the rest. Reaching up, I cupped my breasts and gave them a good squeeze. Unbridled lust flared in Caine’s eyes, and the control in the room shifted. If sex was the way I could get that right now, so be it.
Moving one hand down my body as seductively as I could, I shut my eyes and reached between my legs. When I opened them and saw the way Caine was looking at me, I knew I’d won this round—even if it was only a small battle in what I guessed was going to be a long war.
“Is that a problem?” I asked. “If I use you for your body?”
He answered by unbuttoning the shirt he’d just put on. “Not at all.”
While he was making quick work of his clothes, I knelt on the bed. He was fully aroused again, even though he’d come less than fifteen minutes ago. In fact, it seemed even bigger now. If I hadn’t been so turned on, I might’ve been a little scared of that thing.
Caine was watching me, so I went for it—gave him actions to go with my bold words. Turning to face the headboard, I got up on all-fours and looked back over my shoulder at him. My voice was hoarse. “I believe you said something about my hair and wanting me on all-fours?”
It was two in the morning by the time we’d finished rounds two and three. Or was it three and four, since technically round one had started in the living room earlier? Either way, I learned something about Caine this evening—his fight to keep me out was weakened when he was physically exhausted. Considering the method for getting him physically exhausted was pretty damn spectacular, I’d say the discovery was a pleasurable one.
My head nuzzled his bare chest while he stroked my hair in the dark. When he spoke, his voice was low. “How did you get that scar on your back?”
“Fell out of a tree when I was a kid and took some branches with me on the way down.” I’d told the same story for so long whenever anyone noticed my jagged, three-inch scar, I almost felt like it was true.
“Ouch.”
“It wasn’t so bad. It healed fast. How about you? Do you have any scars?”
“No visible ones,” Caine said. “Although the invisible scars are the hardest to heal.”
I understood that sentiment more than he knew. I placed a soft kiss on his chest, right above his heart. After that, we were both quiet for a while, and I wondered if he was thinking about his scars.
“Do you mind if I stay tonight?” Caine broke our silence. “I think you sucked the strength out of me. Literally on that last round.”
I giggled. When was the last time I giggled? “Of course not. I want you to stay.”
He squeezed my shoulder in response.
A few minutes passed, and I thought he might have drifted off, so I whispered, “Are you sleeping?”
“No.”
“Can I ask you something, then?”
I wasn’t looking at him, but knew he was smiling when he spoke. “Would it stop you if I said no?”
“Don’t you miss this?”
“What?”
“This…snuggling with a warm body and companionship.”
Caine was quiet for a moment. “That’s not an easy question to answer, Rachel.”
“How come? Isn’t it just yes or no?”
“Very few things in life are that simple.”
“I think you make things more difficult than they need to be.”
He sighed. “I spent a year on academic probation for giving in to wanting a warm body. You’re my TA, and I’m your thesis advisor. I’ve never had a relationship that didn’t end badly. There is no simple yes or no.”
It hurt to be reminded that I wasn’t the first dip Caine had taken in the academic pool. I was quiet, and he must have sensed that I was feeling needy.
He kissed the top of my head. “I’ve never spent the night with anyone from the college.” He paused. “And before you jump to any incorrect conclusions, I’m never too tired to get up and go home. Even now.”
I took that as a victory, however small. “Okay… When was the last time you—”
Caine interrupted, snuggling me closer in his arms. “And this warm body feels really good. Now get some sleep. You can interrogate me more while you make me breakfast in the morning.”
A few minutes later, Caine’s breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. I kissed his chest and shut my eyes to follow him to dreamland. I smiled and thought to myself, I can’t wait for breakfast.
My eyes fluttered open, and I immediately reached over to the other side of the bed. Instead of finding Caine, I was met with only a cold sheet. My stomach sank. Stretching for my phone on the nightstand, I squinted at the time and was shocked to find I’d slept until almost eleven-thirty. The last time I’d slept that late…well, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept that late. No wonder Caine was gone.
Yawning, I dragged myself to the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth. I was still completely naked, and when I looked in the mirror and saw my wild hair and the faint red marks on my neck from Caine’s incessant sucking, I couldn’t help but smile. God, did I have memories. And not just etched into my brain—muscles I hadn’t even realized I had ached, and between my legs was swollen and sore. Yet I felt better than I had in a long time. I actually liked the crazy way I looked, and I didn’t bother to fix it, feeling some sort of odd connection to Caine through my disheveled appearance.
Grabbing the first thing I reached in my drawer filled with lazy wear, I slipped on a vintage Rolling Stones T-shirt and headed to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee. I halted in place upon finding Caine at my stove. His back was to me, and he didn’t seem to have heard me, so I stood in the doorway watching him, half stunned at what I was seeing and half shocked at finding he was even still here.
Caine was…dancing? Well, not technically dancing, I guess. But he was definitely swaying to the beat of something as he flipped pancakes in one pan and rolled the sausage around in the other. Yum. And the food smelled pretty good, too.
I continued watching quietly, utterly amused at seeing Caine so disarmed.
“You want some coffee while you stand there?” he asked without turning around.
I jumped and then smiled. “I didn’t think you knew I was here.”
“I know.” He went to the cabinet, pulled down a mug, and poured me a cup of coffee. It seemed Caine and my kitchen had gotten acquainted while I slept. “Do you take cream and sugar?”
“One Equal and half and half.”
Caine finished making my coffee, and for some reason, I stayed in the doorway of the kitchen. He brought me the mug and kissed the tip of my nose before handing it to me. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
“How long have you been up?”
“About an hour.”
“I didn’t know you were still here. Why didn’t you wake me?”
Caine returned to the stove. “Figured you were tired after last night.”
I smiled and brought the coffee to my lips. “I am. I feel like I got beat up.”
Plating pancakes and a few sausages, he set breakfast on the table. “Sit.”
“You’re really bossy, you know? Borderline rude. I’m not a dog. Sit. Stand.”
Caine walked back to where I was still leaning against the doorway and put one hand on either side of my head on the wall.
“You didn’t seem to mind it last night.”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not.”
He dropped his head, chuckling. “How about we have breakfast without a fight?”
“Fine. I’ll sit. But only because it smells really good and not because you barked at me.”
He shook his head. “Whatever it takes, Feisty.”
As soon as the fork hit my mouth, I realized I was starving. I woofed an entire pancake in a few bites.
“Hungry?” Caine raised a brow.
“Shut up. So what did you do while I was sleeping?”
“Listened to music on my phone, checked out the pictures on your wall some more.”
I pointed my fork at him. “You were snooping? Wouldn’t have taken you for a snooper.”
“I didn’t go through your drawers. I looked at pictures hung on the wall. I don’t think that’s the same as snooping.”
“Snooper.” I smiled like an idiot.
We ate in silence for a while. I smiled too much, and Caine looked like he was trying to hide that he was a little terrified of my enthusiasm over breakfast. But it was so much more than I’d expected from him after how things started off last night.
While I was rinsing the plates, my cell phone rang. It was plugged into the charger on the kitchen counter, and Caine and I caught the name flashing at the same time. Davis.
Caine’s eyes flickered up to mine. Ignoring it, I went back to finishing the dishes.
“Not going to get that?”
“I’ll talk to him later.”
While I wiped down the table, Caine went back to the living room wall with another cup of coffee. I joined him when I was done. He stood in front of a picture that had been taken just about a year ago. It was of my three roommates and me the week before we all moved out and went our separate ways. Our couch was six feet long, made of two, three-foot cushions, but the four of us were all sitting squished on one. There were a lot of smiles in that photo.
“Who’s this with you and Ava?”
“That’s Beth and Davis. Beth is the one with the cleavage.”
“I gathered that much.”
Caine sipped his coffee. After a moment, he turned and faced me. “Why didn’t you sleep with him?”
“We just had dinner. He wanted to talk.”
“But he wants to sleep with you?”
“He wants to give dating another try, yes.”
Caine sipped again, studying me over the brim of the mug. “And what do you want?”
You, you idiot. I want you. I knew he was skittish enough about what had happened last night, so I treaded cautiously, trying to make light of the subject. “I wouldn’t mind some more of what I had last night.”
Caine slipped his hand under the hem of my T-shirt and discovered I had nothing on underneath. He grabbed a handful of my ass and squeezed. “You’ve had nothing on under here since you got up?”
“Nope.”
He took the coffee I was holding out of my hands and walked to the kitchen, leaving both our mugs on the table. Returning to me, he leaned down and lifted me up and over his shoulder, fireman style. I squealed, but loved every minute of it. Especially what came after…
It was the middle of the afternoon before Caine made mention of leaving. I had to work at O’Leary’s at five, and we’d just taken a shower together. He dressed while I was in the bathroom doing my usual routine. Still wearing just a towel, I leaned into the bathroom mirror to rub moisturizer into my skin. Caine came up behind me and watched in silence. We exchanged smiles and looks, but for the most part, neither of us said anything. He just watched as I finished with my face moisturizer, rubbed a different one into my legs and arms, then brushed my wet hair.
Eventually he spoke. “Ever hear a song for the first time and you don’t know the words, but the music is really familiar?”
“Sure. Like ‘All Summer Long’ by Kid Rock where he uses parts from ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ and ‘Werewolves of London’?”
“No. An all-original song that you hear for the first time, but you know the music anyway?”
I turned to face him. “I guess. I mean, all songs have commonality to them. A riff, a chord, a lick, a common register or timbre. Our brain seems to index all those little things so we hear something and have that familiar feeling, yet we can’t figure out where it came from. Why?”
“You’re that song. I don’t know any of the words, but the tune is so damn familiar.”
I understood what he meant. I’d felt a connection from the first time we met, too. I didn’t want to scare him, but whatever was between us had always felt bigger than me—bigger than us.
Teasing, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Well, my body probably reminds you of some supermodel. I’m guessing the one that football player is married to.”
Caine smiled. “You mean Tom Brady?”
“That’s the one. My body? Dead ringer for his wife. And my heart, probably a little Mother Teresa.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “That must be it. I gotta run, Mother Teresa, and you need to get to work. I’ll see you tomorrow in class. I’ll be the one at the front of the room, ignoring you and trying not to stare at your rack.”
“Okay.” I pushed up on my tippy toes and kissed him this time. “And I’ll be the one you’ll know has no panties on.”