3. Casey
Chapter 3
Casey
I stared at the ceiling, feeling both completely drained and utterly disoriented. Within the room and within myself. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning, and my pulse still thrummed from activity.
It wasn’t like me to lose track of time, or to give in to something—or someone—without thinking it through, and I’d done both tonight.
But Blue. God, Blue.
How the hell was I supposed to refuse an opportunity like this? Maybe that was a self-serving thought, but I hardly cared.
I’d always thought I had too much principle for this kind of thing. She was young enough to be my daughter, for fuck's sake.
Turns out, nope. I was as susceptible to chemistry as any man.
I turned my head to where she stood by the window, her back to me, the city lights catching the deep red tones of her hair as she adjusted the strap of her dress. I wanted to take a picture of her like that and capture the curve of her bare backside. She was truly breathtaking.
Her mask still hung on her face, as if she wasn’t quite ready to take it off.
I couldn’t blame her. I’d left mine on, too, except when I was devouring her from behind.
The mask changed everything.
It was a line in the sand, a boundary erased, a reason to take what I shouldn’t want. Without it, I might have resisted. Might have reminded myself she was too young, too off-limits, too much of a temptation I had no business touching.
But with it?
Fuck, it made me harder than I’d ever been. It gave me permission to stop fighting, to indulge, to take her the way I craved. The anonymity, the secrecy—it blurred the edges of right and wrong, made it easier to let go, to let myself have her.
Blue turned around then, her gaze catching mine, and I felt the stirring of something I couldn’t quite name. She looked the same as she had when we met, but now, there was a lightness to her, like she’d shed whatever weight she might’ve been carrying.
“Good morning,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. My throat had dried out from breathing too hard, too fast, for so long. But it had been totally worth it. I could take a scratchy throat for a few days if it meant I got to share the night with her.
“It’s after midnight, so yeah. Very good morning,” she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips. She slipped her earrings back on and gestured toward my shoulder. “That birthmark of yours—it looks like Italy.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
She gestured again, stepping closer. “On your shoulder. It’s shaped like Italy. You’ve never noticed?”
I frowned, glancing down at the spot she was talking about. The mark had been there my whole life, but I’d always thought it looked more like Florida without much of a panhandle. “Huh. You’re right.”
“Have you ever been there?” she asked, her tone casual as she reached for her shoes.
“No. But I’ve always wanted to go. Haven’t had the chance.”
She slipped on her heels and stood, adjusting the hem of her dress. “You should. It’s worth the flight time.”
There was a moment of silence as she tucked her clutch in a drawer and gave herself a quick glance in the mirror.
I watched her, still not decided on my next play.
She was a lot younger than I was and surely there was no future for us. Should I ask for her number? Suggest we meet again? Where would that lead? Or should I just walk away. Every option felt wrong.
“You don’t need to overthink this, you know,” she said, breaking the silence. Her tone was light, but there was a firmness to it, like she’d read my mind. “You don’t need to take my number or promise to call or anything like that.”
I frowned, sitting up straighter. “I wasn’t—” I stopped, realizing I had no idea how to finish that sentence.
She smiled faintly, her mask still hiding most of her expression but not the warmth in her voice. “It’s okay, Red. We had a good time. Or, at least, I did. So?—”
“I did, too.” The best time ever, but I didn’t want to commit to anything by saying that.
“Then, let’s leave it at that.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said. “There’s no point in complicating things. It doesn’t need to be more than that, right? Making hollow promises to call each other won’t do either of us any favors. Besides, I’m moving out of state in two days. Well, one and a half now.”
My chest tightened, though I wasn’t sure why. “Where are you going?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “Does it matter?”
I didn’t answer. It felt like it should matter, but she was right. It was better this way.
She walked toward the door and gathered my clothes where she’d torn them off of me. “Here you go.”
I dressed, regretting not having taken control of the situation. I finished the buttons on my shirt. “I’m used to being the one taking charge, maneuvering through things, planning everything. It’s part of my job. I’m the?—”
She pressed a finger to my lips. “No details. We are two people who shared a night of mutual attraction. Let’s not pretend it’s anything other than that by getting to know each other. I’d rather keep expectations to a minimum. Wouldn’t you?”
“I agree.” It was the right thing to do but part of me didn’t want to let her go. I wanted more of her, again and again. This had been the best sex I’d ever had. I’d been in love, for God’s sake. How had I never had sex this good before? But I hadn’t, and I wanted…well, I didn’t know what I wanted.
But it was clear she was done with me. Must be a Gen Z thing.
“Let me walk you to the door.” She hooked her arm in mine and escorted me to the entry.
I wasn't about to let it end here.
Not like this.
I moved in closer and pinned her against the wall. She caught her breath and I felt my cock fill with blood.
“This is so you don't forget me,” I said, kissing her like I've never goddamn kissed anyone. I could have tasted her forever but I ripped my mouth away from hers and glanced intensely into her eyes, burning my soul onto hers.
“Take care of yourself, Red,” she said with a flirtatious tone, opening the door. Then, as I stepped through the doorway, she added, “And go to Italy one day. I promise, you won’t regret it.”
And just like that, the door closed and she was gone.
I stood there for a few moments, my thoughts a jumble of emotions I didn’t know how to untangle.
Part of me felt like I should’ve stopped her, should’ve asked for her name, her number—something. But the other part of me—the part that had been too drawn to her to think straight all night—understood why she hadn’t let me.
She was leaving, or so she said. Whatever the case, she didn’t want strings. And maybe, just this once, I didn’t either.
And she was probably half my age.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering more about Blue. Who the hell was she? And would I ever see her again?