Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
ISAIAH
“She’s beautiful. Nice, too,” Monty says, loading the two sacks of leftover food we had packed up into the trunk and slamming the lid.
“She is.” My cheek pinches, contorting my face.
We’re standing outside in the parking lot waiting for Cassidy. She asked to freshen up before the trek home. Darkness looms and Monty’s got my six, so I’m not concerned about what happens if I’m recognized.
I rest my ass against the side of the car and shove my hands in my front pocket, fingering the suite key and the wrapped peppermint I swiped from a bowl at the hostess station.
“Are you enjoying the time away, boss? Everything working out?”
“Apart from the pretty girl? Yeah, everything’s fantastic. You don’t mind that I pawned you off on your sister for another night, do you?”
“Not at all. It’s been a while. Nice to catch up, and…” he hesitates.
“Just say it, knucklehead.” I trust Monty. My bodyguard has been with me for too long for him to pull any punches.
“It’s not that I want to be on guard all the time, but my job hasn’t been a helluva challenge with you holed up in the house. You’ve been paying me to work out and play video games with you for months. The change of scenery is nice.”
“Are you ready to leave me?” The idea Monty would drop me out of boredom hits me in the solar plexus.
I’ve struggled with depression since Kylie’s accident. At my lowest, Monty kicked my butt out of bed when I’d rather keep the covers pulled over my head. He dragged me into my home gym for the endorphin rush, which is how my abs got cut. Monty’s also gone on emergency midnight runs to get me some of the stupidest shit I could imagine having to buy. I don’t know how I would’ve made it through the past few months without him.
“ Nah, boss, I understand it’ll pick up again when the tour starts. Plus, what I was actually trying to get at is the fact that you’re a different man from the sad sack I dropped off yesterday. I think meeting this girl might be good for you, if what happened with Kylie doesn’t fuck it up. Don’t drown in her baggage trying to do the right thing.”
I huff. “Thanks for the advice.”
It’s obvious I need to open up to Cassidy about who I am. I’ve already gotten the impression fidelity is important to her—not that it isn’t to me. I don’t think anyone goes on a date wondering who else they’re having sex with the following night.
Maybe they do and I’m a dumbass. I guess I keep asking Cassidy about herself instead of volunteering details about me because I need her to understand it’s her I want. That I’m certain I want to pursue.
I don’t know how to sidestep mentioning that my wife and I spent months at a time apart. Cassidy thinking I don’t have time for a relationship won’t do me any favors either. All it’ll take to plant a seed of doubt is admitting how untraditional a marriage we had.
The craziest thing is, I put Cassidy first without her even knowing. I came to Kingsbrier to strike a deal with Cris and Jake, and I’m the one who cut a fantastic writing session short to see her tonight. When I said I had another commitment to get to, I expected Cris, Jake, and I to go our separate ways. These are busy guys and Christmas is three days away. But they were both willing to continue to work on the lyrics and harmonies tomorrow, if I was willing to stick around.
Like they’d have to offer twice?
In the next day, we could have three solid songs to choose from for the next album.
Back at the estate, Monty has Cassidy and me wait in the car while he checks the Tudor.
Through the window, she watches the lights flicker on and off in the front rooms. “He takes this bodyguard thing seriously.”
Kingsbrier uses the security and surveillance company I do. I’ve yet to feel unsafe on the grounds. It’s quite the opposite. Walking outside in the open fields, I felt invulnerable. That makes it easy to tease Cassidy.
“Monty’s thorough. Likely going through your drawers searching for contraband as we speak.” I shrug with a smirk and pop the mint into my mouth.
“Let’s hope not!” She feigns indignation, but I catch her faint chuckle and side-eye.
Cassidy is a good sport, so I keep my curiosity about what she keeps in her nightstand on simmer.
Like at the steakhouse, Monty reappears, giving me the all clear. I agree to update him on our departure time tomorrow, and he drives away to spend another night at his sister’s.
“Does he have to do this extra checking at your house?” Cassidy asks, locking the front door.
I carry my suit coat over my arm and set my hand on her back as we climb the staircase. “I don’t leave home a lot,” I begin. “Let me start over. I haven’t gone out much recently, so there’s been no need. In the past, if I’d been traveling for a while, and the house stood empty, then yes, someone on my security team looked around to make sure I wasn’t coming home to any surprises. But what they do happens before I get there, so I don’t notice.”
Too soon, we’re standing in front of Cassidy’s bedroom door. I should’ve directed her to the downstairs den or the living room.
“One more question.” There’s a hint of eagerness in her voice. “Do you grocery shop?”
My brow raises. “I can’t cook so, no.”
“But you can do laundry.”
I crunch the peppermint. “If I need to. Push button start.”
“Can you work a microwave?”
“ Uh, yeah?”
She’s quiet, but the smirk on her face says the gears in her brain are working overtime.
“What?” My brow lifts, sensing a clever quip coming on.
“So aside from playing the guitar, those fingers are pretty dexterous. What other buttons can you push?”
I turn my head to look down the long hallway. Deciding if I’m ending the date here and going to my suite is a quick deliberation. I’m not putting space between us.
I step forward. Cassidy retreats, planting her back against the door. I lift my arm, leaning it against the wood. My palm finds that delicate sliver of exposed skin at her hip. Cassidy shivers when my thumb brushes up and down.
“Where are your questions leading, Cass?” I cage her in.
Our mouths are inches apart. If all I get is a goodnight kiss, the evening will be worthwhile. But you can’t blame a guy for accepting an opportunity he might never get again. That’s how I wound up staying at Kingsbrier in the first place.
“I—” She bites her lower lip.
“You need help with that. It’s stuck.” And I want to be the one sinking my teeth into it.
I nibble her lip, our mouths pressing together as the shock wears off for Cassidy. She kisses me back. It’s simple. Sweet. Seductive when she opens for me and our tongues tangle. I kiss her long and slow, as if we truly have the rest of our lives instead of the illusion of more than a single night together.
When we part, my hand rises and falls on her collarbone to the rhythm of her rapid heartbeat.
Her fearful eyes search my face. “I’d invite you in, but I’m a cook at my family’s estate. You need to understand I don’t know how to be anyone but me.”
I wonder if Cassidy thinks I’d ridicule her about her job, or if I believe that I—a man who can’t feed himself—holds myself in higher esteem.
“I don’t want you to be anyone other than the woman I asked out to dinner because that’s the only person I want to know.”
My answer must satisfy her. Cassidy reaches behind her and turns the knob.
“You don’t lock your door?”
“Security,” she teases, flicking the light switch. A lamp across the room turns on. The swish of her hips hypnotizes me into following her.
“I’ll lock it. To be on the safe side.”
She tosses her clutch onto her dresser. “You do that. Make Monty proud.”
I grit my teeth, folding my jacket over a chair. I don’t want to hear any other man’s name come out of Cassidy’s mouth except mine. Not to mention, at present I’d rather forget the trappings that go along with being Isaiah Roomer. I just want to be Isaiah for her.
We dance around one another, but the magnetic force I refuse to fight against draws us closer.
The way she dressed is sexy as hell and my fingers haven’t stopped itching to touch her unless they’ve been kneading her bare hip.
My lips brush against hers and I’m so lost devouring her mouth it takes a moment to register Cassidy’s hands working the buttons on my vest. I loosen my tie, slipping the button at my collar through the hole and do the same at my cuffs. She takes over with the straight line of pearls and untucks my shirt from my trousers. I wrangle out of the sleeves.
When it’s on the floor, I pull back and watch Cassidy place her soft hands on my chest in awe. I wanted her hands on my body the moment I laid eyes on her, and I’ve never been so thankful for the grueling workouts I’ve put my body through. Mentally and physically, I’m not the man I was a year ago.
Cassidy shivers, tracing a delicate fingertip over my pec and making tight circles around my nipple. The electricity in the air makes me shudder. She pulls back as if touching me is too much.
I kiss her forehead, trapping her forearms between us to keep her close. “Are you cold, Cass?”
I haven’t been this hot for anyone since I lost my virginity and I want her to feel the same. The only way it seems like I can accomplish that is with my hands all over her and with my name coming out of her mouth.
“I think I’m a bit over heated.”
“We can’t have that now, can we?” I spin her back to my front. Then I move a few fallen tendrils of her blonde hair and place a soft, whispering kiss at the indent at the base of her skull before tugging her zipper down partway.
Pushing her dress over her shoulders and the swell of her breasts, I tighten an arm around her waist to keep her upright. The opposite hand skims the red lace of her bra and pulls at one cup and then the next, baring her chest.
“Oh God, Isaiah.” She trembles as I pinch her pert nipples.
For all the times anyone has acted like I’m a notch above them, right now I feel like I am a god put on this earth to bring her pleasure and find mine as well.
Cassidy’s head lolls to the side, trusting me to hold her weight. Her chest rises and falls with each pluck and squeeze while my tongue rails down her neck, sucking and focusing on the dips and hollows. Each time she inhales, she drives my insane desire to map the rest of her curves forward.
I twist her around a second time, grabbing Cassidy by the back of the head and mashing my lips to hers. Her tits flatten against my bare chest.
“I want you.” So fucking bad, I say, unbinding her hair from the clip. I gather the soft curls that tumble down. Threading my fingers into the silky wheat, I guide Cassidy toward the bed.
She yanks at the sleeve of her dress as she sits.
“ Nuh-uh. Lay back,” I tell her.
We’re not forever. We’re tonight. But I still don’t want to rush. Seeing her exposed inch by inch is part of the fantasy.
A daring thought niggles in my mind.
This doesn’t have to end. We could be more.
Her ample breasts falling out of the lace cup, and her arms bound at her front by the bunching fabric, she does as I say. I lift her boot-covered leg. My hands skirt up her thigh, puddling the skirt at her waist. Satin hides her pussy but not her desire.
My thumb caresses the dampness at the apex of her sex. “You’re so wet for me already, Cass?”
“I have been all day. I hope you take your pussy the same way you take your coffee.”
“With sugar?”
“No, with cream.” She uses her arms to push her tits like it’s an invitation to use her body as a playground, making me chuckle.
Fuck, I love her teasing.
I smooth my palms over her hip and slide my index fingers under more lace on her underwear. Dragging the panties down her thighs, they snag on her boot and rip.