59. Ethan
The steady beep of a heart rate monitor lures me out of a dreamless sleep. I stare around, wondering if I’m stuck in some kind of dream within a dream situation. I’m in my penthouse bedroom, but things are…different. Like the heart rate monitor, IV drip, and steel trolley with something that looks suspiciously like a fucking bedpan on it.
A page flips.
I roll my head toward the sound.
Smith is sitting cross-legged in a chair, reading a Forbes magazine. He’s so intent on whatever article he’s on that I have to clear my throat before he speaks.
“Welcome back,” he says without lifting his eyes. “Thought we’d lost you there for a moment.”
“You don’t seem very concerned,” I mutter, trying to push myself up into a sitting position.
“I knew you’d pull through.” He finally sets down the magazine, giving me a faint purse of his lips instead of a smile. “Never knew anyone with a thicker skull.”
I laugh, wincing when that sends a dull ache through my head. I reach up and gently finger the bandages wrapped around my temple. “Did I get a lobotomy?”
“I wouldn’t touch those if I were you. Only thing keeping your brains inside your skull right now.”
I hurriedly pull away my hand and then glare at Smith when I see the creases next to his eyes as he fights a smile.
“What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” Smith frowns. “Maybe we shouldhave taken you to the hospital.”
That’s when the memories flood back in.
“Hey, hey!” He hurries to my side as I rip the IV needle out of my arm, flinching at the pain. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Where is she?” I roar, ignoring the way the room spins on its axis like my bed is on a merry-go-round.
“Christ, calm down!” Smith grabs my shoulders, trying to shove me back onto the bed. Troy appears, takes one look at me, and rushes over to help Smith subdue me.
They get as far as forcing me to sit on the side of the bed. I’d have shoved past them if it hadn’t been for the sudden wave of nausea tackling me.
“Where is she?”
Smith releases me, straightening. “I’ll tell you, but only if you promise you won’t go charging out of here like a rampaging barbarian.”
“She’s in the guest room,” Troy says.
“Really?” Smith snaps, glaring at him, but I’m already on my feet and pushing them aside.
“You’re being dramatic. He’ll be fine.”
“Dramatic? He can barely fucking stand. You’re getting him back into bed if he falls.”
Troy grabs my elbow, and I consider shaking him off, but the ground isn’t as steady as I remember. I lean some of my weight on Troy as I make a beeline for the guest room down the hall.
There’s no heart monitor in this room.
Just a girl lying on her side on the bed, back turned to the door. Troy eases out of my grip and steps back, closing the door softly behind me.
I walk over to the bed, wincing as it creaks faintly under my weight.
Cassidy stirs, and slowly rolls onto her back, staring at me with narrowed eyes as she swipes sleepily at her face. When she recognizes me, her eyes widen, and she scrambles over the bed to me with a squeal of delight, grimacing half-way to clap a hand over her shoulder.
There’s a band-aid above one eye. A bandage around her thigh. And I assume another dressing under her shirt where Angelo stabbed her.
But besides those injuries and a handful of scrapes and bruises, she’s perfect.
I wrap my arms around her, burrowing my face into her hair. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I murmur, holding her so tight I can feel her heart pounding against my chest.
I expect some kind of reply, but she’s silent.
Then she starts shaking, and I realize she’s crying.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I lean back, cupping her face in my hands, smoothing away the tears as they stream down her cheeks. “I’m here, baby, I’m here.”
She tries to shake her head, lips trembling until she presses them into a line. “They said you’d wake up, but after everything that happened…” She swallows loudly, and falls against my chest, gripping on tightly. “Thank God. Thank fucking God.”
I climb on the bed, drawing her into my lap and cradling her as tightly as I dare, being careful of the wound on her shoulder. She cries until I start rocking her, and then her tears slowly dry up.
There’s a part of me that wishes this moment will never end. But I don’t deserve to let this happiness go on a second longer.
I grasp her neck, drawing her away from me so I can look into her eyes. They’re red rimmed from the tears, her cheeks still stained, but she dredges up a smile that makes me want to fucking die.
When I look away, she cups my cheek. “What’s wrong?”
I have to work saliva back into my mouth before I can speak. “You should leave.”
“Wh—what?”
“I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.” Having her still holding onto me is making this impossible, so I slip her off my lap so I can stand.
She grabs my arm and tries to hold me down. When that doesn’t work, she jumps off the bed and rushes to stand in front of me, blocking me.
I turn my head, but she grabs my face and forces me to look at her. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Everything.”
She huffs bitterly. “You know who you sound like right now? That creep, Angelo. He blamed you for everything too, remember?”
I pull out of her grip, forcing her to back up so I can get to my feet. “I might as well have killed her myself.”
She slaps me.
Hard.
So hard I have to sit down again, because the room starts spinning.
I put a hand over my glowing cheek, glaring at her. “Ow?”
“Yeah, well, stop acting like a fucking idiot.” She crosses her arms over her chest. She’s wearing the cute blue pajama set I bought her. When I realize that the Balmont Boys might have seen her wearing them, I’ve overcome with such possessive rage that I almost push her aside so I can go punch anyone who admits looking at her.
“You aren’t responsible for what Angelo did. He was a delusional psycho who couldn’t accept the fact that you have more integrity in your pinkie toe than he had in his whole body.”
“Leave my toes out of this,” I tell her.
“Only if you leave your ego out of it.”
“What the hell does my ego have to do with any of this?”
“Come on, really?” She puts her hands on her hips. “You think that somehow you should have seen what Angelo was capable of, and stopped him. That’s ridiculous. And stupid. And egotistical.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I’m—wait…I’m right?”
I draw her close and wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry we didn’t find out what happened to your mother.”
“It’s not your fault.” She shrugs against me. “Besides, we don’t even know if he met with her. Could all just be a big coincidence. I’m trying not to think about it. Thinking about it makes my head hurt.”
She pushes against my shoulders, and I’m too weak to protest as she urges me onto my back. “Now how about you shut the hell up and let me kiss you? Because I kinda thought you died, and I’m really fucking happy that you didn’t.”
Cassidy straddles me, ducks down, and presses her lips to mine.
I can’t resist her mouth. To be honest, I don’t even try. I’m so fucking happy that she’s alive, never mind still at my side, that all that shit—the guilt, the horror, the uncertainty—simply fades away like a bad dream.
She kisses me hard and fierce, then slows down and works her way down my throat, over my shoulder, back up to my mouth.
I claim her sweet lips with desperate urgency, my fingers sinking into her ass so I can grind my hardening cock between her legs. The little moan she makes when I slide my hand behind her pajama pants sends a pump of blood into my dick…and makes my head ache at the same time.
She pulls back, grabbing my wrist, as if she somehow sensed my pain. “You should rest.”
“You should sit on my face.”
“Ethan!”
“I wasn’t asking.”
Her struggles are short-lived.
I rip off her pajama bottoms and drag her up my body, positioning her pussy right above my mouth. I stare at her for a long moment as she squirms in my grip.
“No, come on. What if someone walks in?”
“Then I’ll fucking kill them.”
“Please, you have to rest. I’m fine. I’m just happy to see you. We can wait until you’re—” She cuts off with a breathless gasp as I pull her down onto my mouth.
It takes her all of two seconds before she’s fucking my face. I lick every inch of her pussy, and she just gets wetter and wetter.
“Oh God, that feels good,” she murmurs, bucking against my mouth so hard she bruises my lips.
I’m dimly aware of my cock tenting my underwear, but all my attention is on her. I thrust my tongue deep into her delicious pussy, her taste making goosebumps break out on my arms.
She rocks against my mouth, gasping every time I suck her clit between my lips and tease it with my teeth.
But it’s when I slip a finger inside her and start fingering her that she starts coming undone. She grabs my hair in a fist, staring down at me with the most shocked expression on her face as I eat her out—her mouth wide, eyes fluttering, a deep frown between her brows.
“Fuck, yes. I’m so close, Ethan. Fuck!”
Her movements become more exaggerated, her body stiffening when I slip the finger of my other hand into her tight little asshole.
“Oh God, fuck! Fuck!” She quivers, and I have less than a second’s warning—barely enough time to clamp my mouth over her pussy—before she comes.
And Christ, she’s so fucking glorious when she comes.
I drink her down, groaning as she moans and whimpers and mewls above me, her body shuddering. Her thighs clamp around my head, and even that brief pain is worth it because I’m rewarded with the sight of Cassidy being overwhelmed by her climax, head thrown back and a gasp rattling out of her throat as she grinds her pussy against my hungry mouth.
“Fuck, oh God, don’t stop,” she whispers like a curse, and I keep pumping my fingers in and out of her to stretch out her orgasm.
A last little shiver chases through her before she flops off of me and onto her back. One hand thrown over her eyes, her chest heaving, she lies there for a long moment before peeking at me through her fingers.
“The hell did you do to me?” she whispers. “I left my fucking body for a second there.”
“Only a second?” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’ll have to do better next time.”
She giggles, slapping away my hand when I trail it down her stomach, heading for her pussy again. “Back off, buster. Everything down there is still in shock.”
I cup her face, bending over her to kiss her. She doesn’t pull away, even though I’m sure she can taste herself on my lips, and that just makes me groan and want to fuck her into a catatonic state.
But my head gives a warning thump, so I break off our kiss, caressing the side of her cheek as I gaze down at her.
She blinks at me, and I frown as a tear slides down her face.
“Hey…”
Cassidy shakes her head. “I’m fine. Better than fine.” Her throat moves as she swallows, a frown puckering her brow again. “I…love you.”
My heart gives a big, happy thump inside my chest.
I stare at her with awe, shaking my head. “I think I love you too.”
“You think?” She glares at me. “Listen, Sir, if you don’t know for a fact by now whether or not—” She squeals when I grab her around the waist and flip her onto her back, pinning her to the mattress.
“Do I need to flog that attitude out of you, toy?”
She pouts up at me. “Maybe. Will it hurt?”
“Oh, it’s going to hurt all right,” I murmur, ducking down so I can press soft little kisses along her jaw. “But it’ll feel so good you won’t even fucking care.”
She giggles, and Christ, it makes me want to fuck her so badly I struggle to keep myself in check.
But I can wait for a few hours.
A day at the most.
I have the rest of my life to make this woman happy.
Judging from the fact that she’s still trying to catch her breath, I set the bar pretty high.
And that’s fine with me.