Chapter 20 Cassie
CASSIE
The room was so dark when I woke up that I assumed it was the dead of night.
Then I remembered: Jagger carrying me to bed, the shades lowering over the windows, the strange way he’d looked at me before he left the room.
I stretched, relishing the slide of expensive sheets against my bare arms and legs, and thought about the men who were my roommates for the next three months.
I’d been so tired in the kitchen before I’d crashed that it almost seemed like a dream, but now I remembered how they’d looked: walls of muscle and ink, dark gazes and big hands.
My pussy tingled and I slid a hand under the sheets and up my T-shirt, palming my tits and pinching my nipples between my fingers. It felt good, but then I imagined it was one of the Hawks, Vigo or Jagger, touching me like they had in the tunnel, and hunger roared to life at my center.
I slipped one hand under the waistband of my boxers and underwear, over the hair covering my mound, then slid it through my folds, imagining it was Hawk kneeling at my feet, his face inches away from my pussy.
My nipple got harder between my fingers and I dipped a finger inside the hot tunnel of my pussy and stifled a moan. After what they’d done to me in the tunnels, it was all too easy to imagine it was Hawk playing with my cunt while Vigo and Jagger sucked on my tits.
I circled my wet fingers over my clit and gasped as an orgasm bubbled to the surface. I could almost feel Hawk’s tongue, hot and demanding on my clit, his fingers plunging inside me, all the way this time.
I moved my hips on my fingers and pinched my nipples, imagining the hot suction of Vigo’s mouth as Jagger swept my mouth with his tongue, Hawk busy between my thighs, making me come with his mouth before he got on his knees and pushed his cock all the way inside me.
I gasped when I came, my body rigid as I shuddered with pleasure, closing my eyes and willing the release to go on and on before I finally fell limp against the mattress, my fingers wet and sticky, my breath coming fast and shallow.
I lay there in the pleasant aftermath of my orgasm, not all that eager to come back to reality where life was a lot more complicated than three gorgeous men who wanted to fuck me with their kinky toys.
In the real world I still had to get rid of my virginity. I still had to live with the Hawks in this beautiful but unfamiliar house. I still had to explain to Daisy what I’d done.
Worst of all, I still had to deal with Bram.
In spite of my earlier bravado, my chest tightened with anxiety. I hated fighting with Bram — and there would definitely be a fight once he realized I planned to honor my ninety-day commitment to the Hawks.
I sighed and reached for my phone. I’d been right about one thing: it was nighttime, but just after 9 p.m. rather than after midnight.
I had two texts: one from Daisy with a picture of the baby sleeping on Jace’s bare chest and another from Bram checking in.
I hearted the baby pic and sent an appropriately gushing comment, told Bram all was well and I hoped they were having fun in Bali, and set my phone down before I could start spiraling about the fact that literally everyone in my life was going to think I’d lost my mind.
Then I got up to use the bathroom and wash my hands.
I turned on the lights next to the bed and looked around.
It really was a nice room, designed by someone who knew what they were doing (had the Hawks hired an interior designer or was one — or all — of them hiding design talent?) with sturdy warm furniture and a serene color palette in greens and purples.
There was even a little sofa with a prime view of the TV mounted to the wall.
I was going to pay a price for being here, but I could do worse as accommodations went.
I went to work unpacking my things, setting my underwear, pajamas, T-shirts, and tank tops in the dresser and hanging the two casual dresses I’d brought in the cavernous walk-in closet.
I had no idea what kind of attire I’d need during my ninety days with the Hawks, but I’d still have to go to the shop, and Jagger had said I wasn’t a prisoner so I assumed I’d still be seeing Bram and Daisy and Sarai.
I’d packed my biggest staples, reassuring myself with Jagger’s words when I felt panicked that I might have forgotten something.
I was hungry by the time my clothes were put away but I wasn’t quite ready to brave the kitchen for food so I set up my laptop on the desk instead.
I opened it and stared at the screen saver, debating the merit of checking up on Travis Dorsey, especially now that I’d lost the Hunt.
What was the point? I would have to figure out another way to make him pay for what he’d done to my parents and Bram.
Either that or do my time with the Hawks and try the Hunt again, assuming they even let me join, which was a big assumption because I had a feeling Bram was going to make sure no one would ever let me in again.
But keeping track of Travis had become something of an obsession, one that had gotten worse when Detective Grabowski stopped taking my calls.
I guess I couldn’t blame him. He’d inherited the case from another detective, and according to the Blackwell Falls PD, the investigation was closed. Travis Dorsey had done his time and been cleared to reenter polite society.
But I couldn’t let it go, and I’d stalked Travis’ socials for the past two years, making a bitter note of the milestones in his life — an engagement, a wedding in Vegas, a baby — knowing all the while that my parents wouldn’t have any more milestones.
That I wouldn’t have any milestones with them.
I would never be able to run home to tell them I was engaged or pregnant.
My dad would never walk me down the aisle and my parents would never show up at the hospital to hold their newborn grandchild.
My kids would never know them, would never hear my dad’s big laugh or be comforted by a “cuppa” from my mom.
So I’d catalogued Travis’ milestones instead, each one another stab in the tattered halls of my heart.
It was bad for me. I knew that. But keeping track of him was a way to hang on to my parents, a way to show them I hadn’t forgotten them, and for a while, it had been enough.
And then I’d seen him on the street.
He lived a few miles away in Carlton, which was why I was surprised to see him emerge from Syd’s with one of the Barbarians when I’d gone to Junior’s for ice cream with Daisy and Sarai.
He’d looked so normal stopping to lean against the building for a smoke, his scrawny frame folded against the brick facade of the biker bar.
The rage that had filled my body had surprised me, and all at once, I’d wanted him dead.
I blinked away the memory and leaned in to type in my passcode, then just about jumped out of my skin when something shifted in the room behind me.
I whipped my head around to find Vigo standing directly behind my chair, peering over my shoulder, the door to the hall wide open.