Chapter Nineteen

 

MANDY

I don’t know what I’m doing.

I always know what I’m doing.

It’s just right now, in Cas’s arms, in his bed, and with his cock still buried inside me, I’ve never been more uncertain. Or felt so good.

I’m following a plan. This was the strategy. Get Sam Sweets to fall for me, to want to date me, and eventually want more. Get Cas to help me land Mister Right by faking a relationship, have him take my virginity. All we’re doing is following the goals outlined at the beginning. Okay, well not all the goals we outlined. The virginity thing wasn’t supposed to be part of the pact Cas and I made, but then I went and told Sam I was a big girl who wasn’t as innocent as he thought she was. And I wasn’t. I wasn’t naïve. I wasn’t blind about what I was hoping for. I just had that annoying hymen issue. Okay, it was more a lack of experience issue. But now I’m not so sure this is as simple as following an outline.

In fact, there’s probably never been a plan that feels less like a plan and more like, like…

Cas jostles me a bit, with one arm wrapped around my middle so that he can pull out of me. His cock feels kind of bendy and not all that deflated. I almost wiggle on him to see what will happen.

“Keep still.” He growls into my hair while his dick twitches inside me, and I do as he says. I’m not sore from the experience, maybe because I’ve shoved my vibrator up there that many times over the years it helped prepare me. I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle him otherwise.

He leaves a hot dribble of my own arousal against my thigh as his cock slaps his stomach. It starts to grow cold and sticky almost immediately.

“I have to get rid of the condom,” he whispers.

I push against his chest, collapse onto my back on the bed beside him while he rolls the rubber up, knots it, reaches over to put it in the waste basket beside the bed. His other hand finds mine, twines our fingers, squeezes. I press back.

Should I tell him that I don’t know what I’m doing? I almost did earlier. For a split second, I was going to tell him that maybe I’m wrong about what it takes to be Mister Right.

Maybe I want something bigger.

Nerves that swarm like butterflies every time we’re face to face.

Fireworks every time we kiss.

The inability to breathe when he gives me that look. The one that tells me he’s hungry for my attention. That I’m the only person he sees. That I could be the one thing on this planet that could truly make him happy.

The helplessness that fills me when I think I could be wrong about that look.

Cas stretches out on his side, propped up on his elbow, and fingers a few locks of my hair. “I love this. Fucking sexy.”

“Do you think?” It’s washable color, gone with the next shower. Like this night? Is it nothing more than a tantalizing memory I’ll look back on?

“Come on,” he says, climbing off the bed and reaching for me.

“What are we doing?” I give him my hand.

“We’re going to get cleaned up.” He leads me to the bathroom attached to his room.

“But my hair.” I wind a strand around my finger. “The color will go everywhere. You’ll think you somehow ended up in the middle of Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“Pretty sure there’s a cap in one of the drawers.” Grinning, he draws me in and shuts the door. “And a little pink has never scared me.”

Would it if he knew that I was second guessing myself? About Sam? About him?

He turns the water on and sifts through the drawers in the vanity until he crows triumphantly as he holds up a floral shower cap. “Here we go.”

Perched on the edge of the sink, he gathers my hair and pulls the plastic cap over my head, tucking the lose tendrils under the elastic. I glance over his shoulder at the unsexy get up. “Did you steal this from my grandmother’s house?”

“I think whoever stayed in this room before me probably left it. Or Claire was overly organized.” His brown eyes twinkle as he runs his gaze over me from the tip of my… shower cap to my toes.

“What do you think?” I model the stupid thing for him.

“Only you,” he says gruffly, moving in one fluid motion from the vanity to the shower, scooping me up on his way. He bites and kisses my mouth as he puts me down under the spray.

“Only me what?” Water drums over my head. My pulse thunders under his heated gaze.

I lose a breath, a heartbeat, a second as he presses me between the textured, chilly tiles and his angular body. His maleness makes my knees weak. His musky scent makes me want to cling to him. “Only you could wear that damn awful shower cap and still make a guy hard as fuck.”

I laugh, even as my gaze drops to his erection. The head of it bobs against his abs. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He takes my hand and places it on his cock, curls my palm around him and guides it up and down his length. “Mandy Pearce, you are, by far, the most delectable little morsel.”

“Morsel?” I throw the word back at him, my stomach flip-flopping, my breath coming out ragged with the lightness in my lungs. It’s just a line. It doesn’t even mean anything, but it paints pictures in my head of something that lasts longer than tonight. “Are you going to eat me?”

“Fuck yes.” His fingers go to the hot throbbing spot between my thighs. Hanging onto his biceps, I step out to give him access to the parts of me that only know him—well, and a bunch of batteries wrapped in vibrating silicone, but they never made me want like he does. He drops his mouth to my breast, sucks at my skin, leaves it rosy as he moves to the other. I tilt my face into the water, get lost in the drumming. Water droplets. My heartbeat. The constant pulsing between my legs as he pushes his fingers into me with deep, unhurried strokes. He takes his time, turns his entire focus on every inch of me. By the time he gets his tongue between my legs I can barely contain my orgasm. My shoulders bounce against the tiles, my fingers get lost in his hair as I climax, crying out under the spray.

Cas surges to his feet. He climbs out of the shower and grabs a condom. Brow furrowed, he bites his lip as he focuses on tugging the latex over his cock. Rivers of water follow the dips and planes of his body and so does my gaze while I wait for him to fill the space closest to me again. I wind my arms around his shoulders as he picks me up and presses my back to the wall to balance us. His cock slides in more easily this time. Deeper. He steals my mouth, my breath, my plans.

Maybe I give them to him. Maybe I was wrong about what I want.

I bury my face in his neck, hide my thoughts where he can’t see them as he fucks me with powerful strokes that stretch and fill me and send me soaring into darkness while my inner walls squeeze his cock until he groans loudly with his orgasm. Maybe I’ll never tell.

We collapse against the wall, and he kisses me softly while he turns the water off with a shaky hand. His muscles tremble around me.

“We didn’t soap up,” I tell him as he carries me out of the shower and drapes one huge fluffy towel around us.

“We’ll come back to it.” He kisses me, pulling the shower cap from my hair and tossing it into the sink before striding out of the bathroom. “Once I’ve fed you some sandwiches, and we’ve watched some bad TV.”

“Okay.” I can’t deny I’m famished. Can’t stop the growling of my stomach. “Is there any chocolate? I’m fanging for some sugar.”

“Probably.” He smirks as he puts me down and rubs me dry with the towel before winding it around his hips. Water droplets cling to the tips of his hair, his eyebrows, his shoulders. They slide down his torso and over his ink like rain on a windowpane. “Let’s get dressed and find out.”

Twenty minutes later we’re back on his bed. I sit cross-legged at the end, a plate with half a lamb sandwich by my foot, a Cadbury’s chocolate bar beside it. The TV’s on some show about body painting that doesn’t really hold my attention. Cas is stretched out beside me, his hands clasped behind his head on the pillow, his long feet crossed at the ankles. I can sense him staring. It burns into my back and makes those butterflies perform acrobatics.

“I was thinking,” he says. “About what you asked earlier. About whether falling hard is worth the risk when you can have something more certain.”

My breath catches in my throat, my heart stops. Every cell in my body seems to freeze in anticipation of his answer. “And?”

“Every fucking time,” is his coarse reply. “Every. Single. Time.”

Turning to face him, I crawl over to straddle him. Is he right? Does he mean it? About this night? About me? Us? He strokes my face and nibbles at my lips. His dark gaze is unwavering and filled with warmth that says, Yes, little girl, I fucking mean it. Reaching between us, I begin to undo his jeans again while he pulls his shirt that he gave me to wear over my head. We take our time stripping out of our clothes, kissing and touching with light, lingering movements.

Flattening my palms to his skin, I run them over the sharp lines of his torso, leaving the details etched in my mind. I don’t want to forget. Stubble stings my skin as he fucks his tongue in and out of my mouth. He’s heartbreakingly tender. It’s most likely because he’s always going to be scared he could hurt another living being. But what harm is there in believing it’s for me? Just for the evening. Tonight, this is real. Tomorrow? Who knows where we’ll stand.

Fingers stroke my breasts, and he groans against my lips as he slides his thumbs across my nipples that beg for his attention. I press my pussy to his hardness. I’m needy and aching, desperate for him. His erection pulses against my slit and sends a corresponding rush of wetness between my legs, but he’s unhurried in the way he touches me.

Until I can’t stand it anymore. The need to have him inside me is the only thing I can focus on. When he flips me onto my back and breaks our kiss long enough to reach for a condom, I can’t tear my gaze away from him. He drags the rubber over his cock, and I can barely stand the throbbing between my thighs. As he lowers himself over me, I spread my legs wide for him. His musky taste fills my senses as he drags his tongue along mine, his hard muscles fill my hands. His cock…

It takes my breath away. A gasp turns into a whimper as he moves inside me. It’s not the size of him, though I still feel like I’m clamped so tight around him despite the fact we’ve fucked a couple times tonight. It’s how hard he is, how he strokes something so deep inside me with his touch and his gaze that it tears me wide open. It’s the realness of it all while he thrusts inside me over and over until I’m lost in my orgasm, in the thrumming of my pulse, and my quick, stabbing breaths punctuated by his name. It’s the weight of his body on mine as he climaxes.

It’s the way I can’t remember why this wasn’t supposed to be like this.

***

Last night was…

Well, let’s just say I may never use my vibrator again. I’m pretty sure that if I did it would probably bounce around, barely touching the sides of the fathomless cavern Cas made of my vagina anyway. I curl a few strands of tangled hair around my finger and smile at the color. Cas likes it. Really likes it.

Maybe he even likes me?

After we had sex and a proper shower and more sex we finally collapsed into something approaching a coma. Cas on his back, his palm cupping my ass while I sprawled across him naked. The sheet pushed to the floor while the rattan fan overhead spun lazy circles. His chest rose and fell with his steady breaths, his heart pounded beneath my ear. I was so wired with so many thoughts going through my mind that sleep should have been impossible.

Apparently I was wrong, since one minute I was laying there enjoying the feel of his body underneath mine, the next I’m waking up alone in his bed.

Tucking the sheet under my armpits, I turn over and stare at the indent of where his head was on the pillow not that long ago. The sheets are still rumpled and warm beside me. I hold it to my nose, breathe in his spicy musk. The block of chocolate from the night before is on his pillow. The wrapper open, pen scrawled over the inside of the paper. Starting breakfast for the campers. Take your time. You don’t have to work today.

Cas who is always so grouchy and mean might be the sweetest guy I know. He might even be sweeter than Sam.

Climbing out of bed, I search out my clothes. The leotard from last night. The tutu. Not great choices for morning after wear. I’ve never had to do the walk of shame before, otherwise I would have prepared. I find a comb in the bathroom and brush out the snags in my hair as well as I can then smear toothpaste onto my finger and decide I’ll start carrying a toothbrush in my purse from now on. I smile at the stupid floral shower cap on my way out of the bathroom. I smile at my wings when I retrieve them from the dresser.

I smile because of Cas. What do I do about that?

Sam Sweets is meant to be mine, isn’t he? He’s falling for me. He told me he would be there when I was done with Cas. Sam’s a sure bet, even if he doesn’t know it. That’s the kind of man he is. The type who puts his family, his friends above everything else, including his own desires. Like he has with Summer’s decision to stay in Reverence and date two older men. Like he did when I was upset over my grandmother and he chose to comfort me. I’ll be happy with him. I’ll be loved and looked after. And isn’t that what I’ve wanted all along? Isn’t that the entire reason one falls in love?

It’s not just lightning attraction and such intense need that it feels like a storm in my soul. The way it does when I’m around Cas. He’s a wildcard. Cas could take my heart, shake it up, break it all in a breath. He could spin me around and leave me exactly where I started. Would he realize that’s how he affects me? Or is he too stuck in his past? He loved Juliette so hard that he hasn’t let anyone close to him since she died. If I fell for someone like that would I be able to recover if it ended? Would Cas devastate me and never even know that he did?

Looping the elastic of my wings over the bedpost, I take one last glance around Cas’s room before I shut the door and make my way toward the kitchen. Is the risk worth it? Do I really want to change my plans when I’m so close to getting what I want? I’ve worked too hard to just change my goals on a whim. Even if what I want isn’t as clear to me as it used to be.

I find him in the kitchen with Razer.

“That guy was asking about Soldier again when I was buying horse feed. He was pretty adamant about offering you a decent figure for him.”

“My damn horse isn’t for sale,” Cas grumbles. “Hell, I couldn’t sell him even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

“That’s what I told the guy.” Raze shakes his head. “I’m just letting you know in case you maybe wanted to consider it.”

“I don’t,” Cas says, before he spots me. “Hey, Mandy.”

“Are you filling in for me?” I ask Razer as I stop at the coffeepot for fuel.

“I’ve got the blond hair to pull off being you.” He grins, scrambling eggs. “Don’t you think?”

“And the green eyes,” Cas says.

“Your eyes are way more gray than mine,” I tell Razer, before turning my attention fully to Cas. “And it’s pink hair.”

“You’d look pretty in pink, bud,” Cas says before grinning at me. “Don’t you think, Mandy?”

“Sure.” I sip my coffee.

“Probably look ridiculous in that tutu though,” Razer lifts an eyebrow at Cas. “Weren’t you wearing that last night, Mandy? Actually, I’m pretty sure you were.”

“What are you going to do with your day off?” Cas interrupts.

“I’m not sure.” Maybe sleep. “I’m supposed to catch up with Summer.”

“Oh, right.” His brows draw together, his smile falters. He’s probably wondering if that means I’ll be spending my day with Sam.

“We’re catching up with a friend. Ashleigh.” I put my cup in the sink. It’s awkward with Razer in the kitchen. I don’t know whether to move closer or further away from Cas, whether to kiss him or pretend we don’t get along that well. Razer is technically Cas’s boss. And after I banged my boss’s brains out last night it’s all kinds of odd.

“Say hello to her for me?” Claire says, joining us. “Weren’t you wearing that tutu last night?”

“Uh.” I glance at Cas. They must know what happened between us last night. With my hair still pink and tangled, and the stubble rash that’s left my cheeks sensitive and a little sore. The tutu’s just the icing on my cherry. His gaze lingers as it roams the hemline of the fluffy skirt, and makes me blush in places only he’s seen. “Yes, I just love it. Isn’t it the most gorgeous color?”

“It is.” Claire smiles. “I was hoping you could tell me where you got it. I want to see if I can get some for my nieces.”

“I bought it online, and I can’t remember the name of the shop off the top of my head. But I can message you the details when I get home.”

“That would be great.”

“Okay. Will do.” I open the kitchen door.

“Cas, have you given any more thought to taking the position permanently?” Claire asks behind me.

I falter in the doorway.

“Can’t do it,” he says, matter of fact. As though there’s nothing to consider. As though what happened last night was as fake as the rest of our relationship.

“I didn’t drive,” I say.

“Hang on. I’ll take you,” Claire says. “I have to go to the post office anyway.”

“Okay.” Why would he not even consider staying? Not that I should care. What he does or where he goes is really none of my concern. Unless he wants it to be.

This is why I’m not interested in falling hard. Or having some crazy romance with the highest peaks and lowest valleys. I don’t want to feel like this, but worse, so much worse. I just want to be happy with my perfect man. That’s why I’ve put so much effort into catching my Mister Right. I’m not going to throw it all away now over a man who has no intention of sticking around. Especially since he probably isn’t right for me at all.