21. Cassidy
CASSIDY
I was sitting in my car out the front of Harle’s, staring at his front door. For sure, he knew I was here, but all the hounds of hell could not drag me from my car.
No. Fuck it. I can’t do it. Just as I was reaching down to turn the key in the ignition, my phone buzzed.
Hannah: Don’t you dare be a chicken shit. I’ll be living vicariously through you and I’m going to want allll the gory details.
Well, that wasn’t exactly helpful. It did absolutely nothing to get me to open my car door. Dropping my phone back on the passenger seat, I reached for the keys again.
My phone buzzed a second time and I rolled my eyes before looking down at it.
Hannah: But also, I love you and I hope it works out. You deserve all the happiness in the world.
Aaaw.
Me : I love you too. I’m scared shitless but I just got to Harle’s and I’m about to go insid e .
Hannah: You got this!
I was pretty sure I didn’t, but Harle was going to think I was a loon if I sat here for too much longer. Pulling on every ounce of courage I possessed, I shoved the car door open and strode determinedly to the front door.
He pulled the door open two milliseconds after I knocked. Had he been waiting just on the other side? And was it my imagination or had he somehow gotten even hotter? The tight black shirt. The jeans. The hair pulled into a knot on top of his head. The smile.
Yeah, my insides just melted.
“Hey. Good timing. I’ve got the water boiling for tea or coffee. But I’ve also got soda if you prefer.”
Clutching the strap of my purse like a lifeline, I followed him inside. “Tea would be great.”
“What kind would you like? I’ve got normal black tea. Chamomile. Peppermint. And some weird floral shit my sister likes.”
“I’ll—” Oh fuck, my voice was squeaking. Taking a moment to clear my throat, I said, “Chamomile sounds great, thanks.”
“Chamomile it is, then. Sit tight at the table. I won’t be long.”
I took a seat, perching on the edge of the chair while Harle moved easily around the kitchen. The sound of clinking cups and the soft hiss of water pouring filled the air.
He set a mug in front of me and pulled out the chair next to mine. When he sat, he was close enough that the heat of his body made me hyper aware of how tightly wound I was.
“I think I’m just going to get straight into it, because you seem very tense. The sooner we get through this, the sooner you can stop stressing about it.”
“Um, yeah. Okay.”
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when he reached over to the end of the table and grabbed a clipboard. This was way more official than I had imagined.
His voice was low and soothing when he began, and I found myself leaning in despite my nervousness. “So, I want to make sure we’re both clear about what this is. And what it isn’t. You good with that?”
I nodded quickly, curling my hands around the mug for something to hold on to. “Yeah. That sounds smart.”
“Great. Let’s get started.” He shifted his chair closer, his thigh now inches from mine. “The agreement is you’ll stay with me for ten days. In that time, you agree to free use. I’ll have you whenever and wherever, and however I want to. But with a few caveats.”
The heat radiating from his body made it hard to concentrate on his words. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, trying to ignore how his proximity affected me. “What are the caveats?”
“You will have consented to everything we do together ahead of time. As in, right now.” His fingers drummed lightly on the clipboard, drawing my attention to his hands. Those big, capable hands that would soon be... No. Focus, Cassidy . “I faithfully promise not to do anything to you that you haven’t given prior consent to. And I will put my signature here, at the bottom of this page, to that effect.
I shifted in my seat, acutely aware of how the wooden chair felt against my thighs. “That sounds reasonable.”
When he leaned forward to make a note, a lock of hair fell forward from his bun. The urge to reach out and tuck it back was almost overwhelming. “I’m glad you think so. Let’s move on. You have one free pass. One time you can say no. But only once, so use it wisely.”
“Okay.” Why did that sound hot?
“You will also be wearing what I provide for you, when we are at home. You wear your own clothes if and when we go out, but as stated previously, without underwear.
“Even if we aren’t going to be together? I can’t wear underwear to work?”
“Correct. You have to be accessible to me twenty-four seven.”
Jesus fuck, what have I got myself in for here?
“Agree?”
“Agree.”
“Excellent. Now to the particulars. I’m going to list each and every activity we can do together, and you’re going to say yes or no.”
Needing to soothe my suddenly dry throat, I took a sip of tea. Right when Harle said, “No butt stuff, obviously. That defeats the purpose.”
It was all I could do not to spit out the tea.
“You okay?”
“Yep, fine,” I gasped. “Did you just put that on the list so you could cross it off?”
“Maybe. Moving right along then. Do you like to be spanked?”
“No.” Brian had tried that once, along with telling me I was a bad girl and a dirty whore. I’d fucking hated it.
Harle calmly crossed it off his list. “Breath play?”
“What’s that?”
“I’d wrap my hand around your throat while we’re fucking and squeeze. It makes the orgasms more intense.”
“No.”
“Okay.” Another one off the list. “Impact play?”
I was starting to feel like a nun. “What’s that?”
“Whips and paddles.”
“No, I don’t think I would like that. Is that…is that okay?”
“Of course, darlin’.” And just like that, impact play was off the list.
“Being restrained?”
That…that was intriguing. “Umm…”
“How about we come back to that. Do you like having your hair pulled when you’re fucking?”
“I don’t know. I might like that.” But then I might not, and we’d be mid fuck and he’d pull my hair and I’d freak out.
“How about I put that down as a maybe. As long as you know that for me, it’s a no until you explicitly tell me it’s a yes. And I mean, very clearly, in full sentences. ‘ I want you to pull my hair, Harle.’ Or, ‘ Please tie me up, Harle.’ Got it?”
He was just making this so incredibly easy. “Got it.”
“Can I fuck you when you’re asleep?”
Oh. That one actually sounded good. Just lying there, with him… “Yes.”
“One of my favorites, so thanks for that. How about praise?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, where I tell you how perfect your pussy is. And that you’re a good girl for taking my cock so well. Stuff like that.”
I was hot all over. “Um, yeah. That…. that sounds okay. Or good. That sounds good.”
He looked at me for a long moment then he winked. “Good girl.”
Oh lord, the way my core clenched, I had to squeeze my thighs together.
“Now, voyeurism is not really my style, but I can do it if you want it.”
“No, that’s fine.”
“Great. I do have a non-negotiable of my own, if you don’t mind.”
It seemed only fair. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“I want to be able to go down on you whenever I feel like it.”
Now my face was on fire. “Um, sure. I guess. If you like.”
“I do.”
I didn’t know what to make of that. The only time Brian ever went down on me was our wedding night. He’d made it very clear it was distasteful to him and that was that. Never again.
Harle dropped the clipboard on the table. “How are you doing over there? Lots of overthinking?”
“Um, yeah. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. What’s freaking you out the most?”
My gaze slid from his and I bit my lip.
“You may as well tell me.”
“I’m, um, I’m worried that you’re going to be bored.”
His laugh was low and rumbly and not at all the reaction I expected. “I absolutely will not be bored. I can guarantee you that.”
“But—”
“There are no buts. Look at me.”
I forced my eyes back to his to find him watching me steadily.
“I’m going to enjoy every moment I’m fucking you. I’m going to enjoy it a lot. Got it?”
He seemed pretty fucking sincere. “Got it.”
“What else?”
Jesus, he could read me like a book, because right now, Brian’s voice was echoing in my ears. No one likes a needy, clingy woman, Cassidy. I need my space. “I’m not much of a hugger. You don’t have to, you know, snuggle and stuff after we…”
There was that long, steady gaze again. I thought he was going to say something, but all he did was write something on the clipboard. “Noted.” He pushed the clipboard across to me. “I think that’s fairly comprehensive. Read it over and if everything’s okay, sign it.”
My gaze flicked straight to the bottom of the form. He’d already signed it. Before I’d walked through the door, he’d already signed it. It wouldn’t have mattered how I answered any of these questions, he was going to do this for me. The realization made me weirdly emotional and I had to swallow the lump in my throat as I picked up the pen and scrawled my name next to his.
“Excellent. Now come here.” He reached over and, wrapping his fingers around my wrist, pulled me from the chair, into his lap. Ever so gently, he brushed the hair back from my forehead. “I’m going to take good care of you, just so you know.”
Oh. “Thank you.”
Sliding his fingers into my hair, he pulled me close, brushing his lips lightly across mine. I’m pretty sure it was meant to be reassuring, but instead, shivers of heat rippled through my body. This wasn’t like our desperate kiss from before. This was deliberate. Calculated. A promise of what was to come.
I melted into him, my body responding with an intensity that surprised me. His lips were soft yet insistent, and I found myself parting mine, inviting him deeper. As his tongue slid against mine, a small moan escaped me. God, I should be embarrassed about how quickly I was turning to putty in his hands, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Harle’s hand tightened in my hair, sending little sparks of pleasure down my spine. The heat of his body seeped through my clothes, and I became acutely aware of how perfectly I fit in his lap, how solid he felt beneath me. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, desperate for an anchor as waves of desire washed over me.
This was nothing like the clinical arrangement we’d just discussed. This was pure chemistry, raw and undeniable. Every brush of his lips, every subtle shift of his body beneath mine, sent my heart racing faster.
When we finally broke apart, both breathless, Harle’s blue eyes were dark with want. His chest rose and fell rapidly against my palms, and I felt a surge of feminine pride knowing I wasn’t the only one affected. “You okay?” he murmured, his thumb tracing my cheekbone.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The reality of what we were about to do hit me full force. Ten days of this. Ten days of Harle’s hands on my body, his lips on mine, his... Oh god. What had I gotten myself into? And why did the thought make me feel both terrified and thrilled?
He brushed one last kiss against my lips, gentler this time, but somehow even more intimate. When he pulled back, there was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite read. “How about you go on home now, have a good overthink about everything and come back on Friday night with your suitcase. We’ll get started then.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. “I thought maybe...”
His thumb traced my bottom lip, and I had to resist the urge to capture it with my teeth. “Trust me, darlin’, I want nothing more than to carry you to bed right now and start making good on everything we just discussed.” His voice had dropped an octave, sending goosebumps rippling across my skin. “But I want you to have time to really process this. To get excited about it. To drive yourself a little crazy thinking about it.”
He shifted beneath me, and I bit back a gasp at the evidence of exactly how much he wanted to keep me here. “Plus,” he continued, his voice rough, “I’ve got some preparations to make. Things to get ready for you.”
Oh god. What kind of preparations?
“Friday night,” he said firmly, helping me stand on shaky legs. “Pack light. You won’t need many clothes.”
Many clothes? I was definitely going to spontaneously combust before Friday.