I close my lips around him and feel Cash’s fingers fist in my hair. I can’t fit much of him into my mouth, so I lick and suck my way up and down the sides, cupping his balls and teasing them with my lips and tongue.
Then Cash is pulling me up, kissing me. Thrusting his tongue into my mouth, tasting himself in my saliva. Roughly, he grabs my h*ps and lifts until I’m straddling him. Then, in one sharp movement, he flexes his h*ps and pulls me down onto him, impaling me.
I can’t stop the cry of pleasure that escapes my lips. It feels as though it’s torn from somewhere deep. Against my will.
I ride Cash in the bright sunlight, both of us gasping in the fresh air. I moan when he nibbles my ear. I whimper when he lifts my shirt and bites my nipple through my bra. He tells me how it feels to be inside me. He whispers things he dreams of doing to me.
I don’t need Cash to tell me I’m all he’s thinking of, that I’m all that’s on his mind. I can see it in his face, feel it in his kiss. For now, he’s all mine. And I’m all his.
Absorbed by his passion, by his eyes, by his touch, I lose my grasp on reality when my body succumbs to the throes of my orgasm. The only thing I’m aware of is Cash’s breath in my ear and the feel of him coming in time with me. With each pulse, I feel heat shooting into me, intensifying my own pleasure.
I’m breathless, my arms and legs wrapped tight around Cash. He’s panting against the skin of my throat, his hands splayed over my back, hugging me to him.
I could stay this way forever.
If only Cash was the forever type.
His arms tighten around me as if he knows what I’m thinking. I sigh into his neck and hope that he doesn’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - Cash
The drive from Salt Springs to Atlanta Sunday night isn’t exactly a luxurious one. I mean, we’re on the back of a motorcycle. But still, Olivia seems comfortable. I feel her rest her cheek against my back. Her thighs are pressed tight against mine and she’s snuggled up like she’s content.
Only I get the feeling she’s not. She’s stuck on something in her head again and I don’t know what to do about it.
We had sex a dozen times over the weekend and all I can think about is the next time, the next thing I want to do with her, for her, to her. I can’t seem to get enough of her.
But it bugs the shit out of me that each time feels like the last time with her. Like she’s holding something back. I can feel it. I can see it in her eyes sometimes when she’s taken off guard. When she doesn’t have enough time to hide it behind a smile. Something’s bothering her. I think I know what it is. But I’m just not sure I can fix it, that I’m capable of fixing it.
When I pull up in front of her place, I push the bike onto the kickstand, but I don’t cut the engine. Something tells me she’s not going to invite me in.
And she doesn’t.
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done this weekend.”
She’s thanking me?
I smile, my normal carefree smile. “Oh believe me, it was my pleasure.”
She smiles, too, but it’s tinged with sadness. And maybe inevitability. I think, in her mind, we were over before we even got started. The question is whether or not I can change her mind. And how.
Even I notice the uncomfortable silence and I never notice them. Very little bothers me. But this does.
I need time to think. But I need to make sure she doesn’t. That’s when I get into trouble. At least in her head, I do.
“So, you said you could look over some stuff at the club this week, not on your regular shifts. How about tomorrow evening? You don’t have to stay late.”
I can tell I’ve thwarted her. She was probably already thinking of ways she could avoid me. But that’s not going to happen. I’ll get past whatever is bothering her. I won’t give her a choice in the matter.
“I’ll take that as a yes. And by then you’ll have your car back. I’ll bring it by early in the morning.”
Watching her expression is like watching a pile-on with a bunch of kids. And she’s the person on the bottom, about to run out of air. I know I should feel guilty for making her feel that way, but I don’t. Not really. I know she’d get some crazy idea in her head that I’m bad for her. And that’s just not true. In fact, the longer I know her, the more time I spend with her, the more I believe I’m exactly what she needs in her life. She just doesn’t know it yet. But she will. I’ll have to tell her the truth eventually. But I’ll wait as long as I can. It could be a disaster otherwise.
Finally she nods. “Okay. Sounds good. And thank you. Again. Cash, I don’t know—”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Maybe now you’ll see I’m not all bad.”
I know she’s getting ready to respond to that, so I kiss her partially open mouth, slip on my helmet and take off down the road.
The best thing I can do is keep that girl’s mind—and her mouth—busy.
This ought to be fun.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - Olivia
What the hell am I gonna do?
I collapse onto my bed, face down. I realize I’m in serious trouble. Cash is not the kind of guy I can let myself fall for.
I don’t think I really thought I’d get this involved with him. Not really. I mean, he’s sexy and flirty and fun and flattering, but I never imagined that if we managed to actually have sex it would turn so quickly into…this. Whatever “this” is.
It was a huge mistake to spend so much time with him at home. With my father. At the one place on earth that’s like my sanctuary. Putting him there, in that context, and him being so sweet and fitting in so perfectly, just made me fall into all sorts of traps and clichés.
Dammit.
As if my mother has taken over a large portion of my brain, I find myself ticking off all the negatives of Cash and all the positives of Nash, pitting them against each other in a death match.
I wish I could shut out her voice in my head, telling me it will never work with Cash, that he’s not what I need. I can practically hear her gushing about how perfect Nash is.
And she’s right.
The fact that he wants me gives me hope. The fact that he’s taken is quickly being outweighed by the fact that he fights it, by the fact that he’s trying to do the right thing by Marissa. Even if she is a cold, nasty, snake of a girl.
I know I’m not thinking clearly. I’m in Def Con Five mode, brought on by sheer panic over my feelings for Cash. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t pull out of the tail spin. My mother’s voice is too strong, her claws too deep. And seeing Gabe over the weekend isn’t helping.
It’s the perfect anti-Cash storm. And it’s wreaking havoc.
Before I can even think twice, I’m dialing Nash’s number. Maybe I can put his side of things to rest once and for all. One way or the other. Either there’s a chance or there’s not, but I can’t keep holding him up as the other viable option if he isn’t.
At first, I’m a little relieved when he doesn’t answer. But then, when he finally does, I’m relieved to hear his voice.
“Nash, it’s Olivia. I’m sorry to bother you so late. Were you busy?”
“Uh, no. I’m just getting in. Is everything all right?”
Where do I begin? I don’t even know what to say now that I’ve got him.
“Yes, everything’s fine.” I pause to collect my scattered thoughts. “Actually, no it’s not. Is there any way you could come over?”
“Over there? Tonight?”
Something in his voice—some note of hesitation—nearly shakes me out of my frenzy. Nearly, but not quite. I ignore it and move on.
“Yes. Tonight. As soon as you can.”
“What’s the matter, Olivia? You’re starting to scare me. Has something happened? Did my brother do something to you?”
I hear an edge to his voice and I’m confused by it. It takes me a full three or four seconds to figure out what he’s getting at. “What? Cash? No. Oh, God, no! It’s nothing like that at all.”
Why would he even ask that? Does he really feel that way about his own flesh and blood?
I hear him exhale. “Okay, good. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Great. Thanks. See you then.”
I wait. And, as I wait, I pace. And not-so-patiently, I might add. I’m teetering between two horrible options—being bold with Nash or moving to Siberia.
By the time I hear the doorbell, Siberia is looking pretty dang good.
I fling open the door, completely unprepared for Nash like this. He must’ve been working late. He’s wearing a black suit that fits him to perfection. His bright red tie is askew and his hair is mussed, making him look even more like Cash. He’s like dream Cash. Cash with a little more Nash.
Why can’t they both be a little more like each other?
I answer that thought.
Because then you’d want them both. Just like you do now. Only without any reasons to stay away.
Shaking my head, I step back to allow him to pass. He walks lazily to the couch and flops down, like he’s tired. I perch on the other end of the sofa, facing him.
“Rough day?”
He wags his head back and forth. “Meh, some parts.”
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry to call so late.”
“It’s not a problem. I was still up. Besides, I told you to call if you needed anything.”
I stare at him, at the face that seems so familiar to me now. It feels odd for it to be attached to Nash’s personality, though. To not feel the intense heat of Cash emanating from behind those sparkling midnight eyes.
He raises his eyebrows in question when I don’t speak. “So, what’s up?”
I might never know what came over me. One second I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing. The next I’m blurting out embarrassing-isms.
“Nash, do you want me?”
If I weren’t so shocked at what just came out of my mouth, I’d probably think his expression was comical. As it is, I’m dying a little on the inside.
“What?”
I scoot closer to him, laying my hand on his arm for emphasis. “Do you want me?”
“I think we’ve already established the answer to that. What’s this about, Olivia?”
I’m floundering. I’ll admit it. And my go-to plan was never even a forethought, much less a plan. So, I wing it. Which, in this case, translates to practically assaulting Nash.
Leaning forward, I press my lips to his. I don’t know who is the more shocked of us, Nash or me. At first, his lips are frozen beneath mine. If possible, I think my humiliation rises. But then, he jerks back like he’s been burned.
Nash grabs me by the upper arms, his fingers digging into the tender flesh, and he looks me square in the eye. For a few seconds, I could swear I see hurt and anger. However, that makes no sense. But then, when I blink, it’s gone, making me wonder if I’d imagined it altogether.
His lips curve into a cruel twist. “So this is how it is.” he says enigmatically. I try to pull out of his grasp; his fingers are really starting to hurt. But he won’t let go. Pulling me into his lap, he roughly cups my face. “Is this what you want?”
Before I can answer, his lips are crushing mine. They’re not gentle. They’re not passionate. They’re not even sexual. They’re punishing and angry and…cold.
I’m cringing away from him when his tongue forces its way past my lips. His mouth is mashed so tightly to mine, for a second I think I taste blood. Then the flavor is mingled with something salty. It’s then I realize I’m crying.
Nash pulls away from me, opening his mouth as if to curse me, but he stops in shock. I guess he sees that I’m crying and the Nash I thought I knew takes over.
His face softens and, tenderly, he raises one hand and wipes the tears from my left cheek. I feel my chin tremble. I will it to stay still, but the damn thing completely ignores me.
“Did I hurt you?” he whispers, scattering tiny butterfly kisses all over my lips and cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have done that. I know you’re with Marissa. I don’t know what came over me.”
Nash leans back and looks at me. “Am I what you want?”
I don’t know what to say to that. Should I admit that I do? Am I even sure that I still feel that way?
Cash drifts through my mind.
As if sensing the direction my thoughts have taken, Nash asks, “What about my brother? I thought… I mean, I know he spent the weekend in Salt Springs.”
I’d forgotten that Cash had to get directions from Nash. If possible, I’m even more humiliated. No doubt he thinks I’m a huge whore now.
Before I can respond, Nash continues. “Or was I there, too?” He brushes his lips over mine. “Did you think of my lips when he kissed you?” Light as a feather, he runs his hand down the outside of my thigh and back up again, squeezing my hip. “Did you wish it was me touching you? Like I did the night I came to your room?”
I gasp in shock.
Ohmigod! It was Nash!
I start to lean back and speak, but his lips take mine, quickly coaxing them apart. Sensation drowns out thought as I feel him breathe into my mouth. “Do you still want me? Because if you do, I’m all yours.” With that, he deepens the kiss, his tongue licking along mine, his free hand roaming across my waist and stomach. Chills spread over me. His touch is so much like Cash’s.
Cash…
I push against Nash’s chest. He moves back easily, giving me no resistance.