Chapter 23
Marina
“I need sleep, woman,” Cash says, eyes closed and grinning against the pillow under his head.
Straddling his firm bounce-a-quarter-off ass, I bend forward, this time to lick his shoulder blade and then kiss the divot he’s created by having his arms bent to support his head. “Come on. One more time.”
When that doesn’t rouse him, I rub my bare body shamelessly against him. I mean, it wouldn’t be hard to orgasm with him between my legs.
A growl vibrates through his torso.
That’s not helping me want him less.
He captures me by hooking his arm around my middle and dragging me off to the side of him. Rolling to face him, I laugh, too wired to lay around any longer.
His green eyes darken but the smile remains. “You’re insatiable.”
“No lies detected, but I also only have two hours before I head back to Vancouver.” My phone buzzes, but I don’t even check it anymore. It’s been going off all night.
The messages are all variations of the same thing: what were you thinking, what have you done, you’re dating Cash Ryatt, or some other shock-factor headline of a text question from friends, family, but mostly Lauren. I even got two texts from Corbin calling me a whore. Him, of all people.
Being called a whore doesn’t actually bother me since I’m not one, but also, so what if I was. Women have to love when they’re demonized for liking and enjoying sex. Clutches my faux pearls. Heaven forbid she gets off from it.
I slide closer, draping my thigh over his leg. Even this turns me on. “Are you really going to send me sexually needy to a city across another country?
His amusement is lost in the embers sparked in his eyes. His hand covers my hip, and then he says, “When you put it like that . . .”
I’m dragged under him and spread apart with his knee. As his mouth covers the distance of my neck, he sinks into me. Releasing a breath, I whisper, “I will never get over how incredible you feel.”
“We feel. This is how we fit together, babe.” Kissing and then punctuating with suction, he says, “So perfect for each other.”
I dig the back of my head into the pillow as my back arches of its own accord, and I moan in pleasure, “So perfect.”
The driver loads my suitcase in the back and then opens the door for me to climb into the SUV. One foot up, but I stop with the other on the ground. “Mom?”
“Hi, honey. I hope you don’t mind me tagging along to the airport.”
“Of course not.” I lift myself into the back and shut the door. The privacy glass is already in place. A red flag. “But why do I feel like this isn’t just because you miss me?”
“I do miss you, Marina. I’m looking forward to when the movie wraps and hoping you’ll spend some time at the house in Beacon. Or we can take a trip together and go shopping like old times.”
“I’d love both of those,” I reply, snapping my seat belt into place. “But why the sneak attack, Mom? I have a phone.”
“No attacking. I’ve seen the articles about you and Cash from last night. Your dad and I would have preferred finding out from you directly.”
“I was forbidden to see Cash, so it left us no choice but to sneak around.”
A breath fills her chest as she glances out the window. When she turns back, she says, “Your entire family was in the theater waiting to watch and then celebrate the premiere with you.”
“I’m sorry.” I hate feeling bad for something that feels so right. “Last night wasn’t planned. Corbin—”
“How is your boyfriend engaged to another woman, and we didn’t know you two were broken up?”
Angling my knees toward her, I toy with the loose end of the seat belt. “A lot happened in a short span of time on that carpet and in front of the press—”
“And the world.”
Frustration sets in, and I purse my lips before realizing I’m tired of holding it in.
“I won’t apologize for what I did with Cash.
Corbin cheating on me was embarrassing. Kissing Cash was freeing.
Corbin told me I wasn’t good enough for him and then called me a whore for being with the man I love instead. Cash treats me like a queen.”
My mom’s mouth hangs in shock, her hands clasping together over her heart. “I’m sorry. He treated you awful. If I would have known—”
“I don’t have any more regrets because I learned what I would never tolerate again and what kind of man I deserve.”
No parent wants to hear their child had to go through something like this. Corbin will be dead to her like he is to me. “You’ve gone through so much,” she says. “How are you?”
“It’s been a lot, but I’m doing better than I have in years.
” She embraces me again, and I let her, loving her comforting arms around me.
“I’ll apologize to the family for not letting you know what was happening.
I just couldn’t bring myself to go inside that theater after all that happened beforehand. ”
“The man you love?” She reaches over, stilling my hand with hers. “You love Cash?”
I feel caught, precariously walking a tightrope of protecting what’s mine and makes me so happy and sharing with everyone else.
My mom isn’t everyone else, though. I swallow any hesitation and just say it.
“I love him. I’m in love with him.” And then I wait .
. . I don’t even know what reaction I expect from her.
She’s always been on my side while still being a guiding parent with advice.
She sits back, and her gaze falls forward.
But then a small smile tiptoes onto her face, and when her hand covers her heart, she says, “I’ve never heard you say that about anyone you’ve dated before.
” Reaching over with arms open, she snuggles me in her arms when I lean closer. “Oh honey, I’m so happy for you.”
“You are?” I reply the best I can as I have the daylights squeezed from my body.
When we sit back again, her smile is as wide as the one she wears on Christmas morning. “Love is a beautiful emotion. It’s strong and more powerful than any other.”
“It’s all-consuming. I only want to be with him, to lie in his arms.” I stop, my eyes going wide at the realization of what I just confided to my mom. Does a parent want to know that kind of thing about their daughter?
Reading me like a book, she laughs. “You’re a grown woman, Marina. You should be in love. You should be making love with someone who matters to you and makes you feel giddy when you see them. We enter this new stage of our relationship if you trust that your dad and I always want the best for you.”
“I know you do, Mom. Thank you. I trust you and Dad and our whole family to always have my best interests at heart. It’s just hard with so many opinions, and then you add in the fact that they’re his boss—”
“You are too. Don’t forget.”
Part ownership was an amazing gift and could pay off to be a financial windfall with how the team is doing, but in no way have I ever had a say or hand as an owner. “I do forget. It’s not like I have a vote.”
“Of course, you do. You just have to use it.” She pauses to dig her phone out of her bag. Reading a message on the screen, she sets it on her lap just after, seemingly satisfied. “An owner of the team dating one of the drivers complicates things.”
She’s right. This could make things messy.
Resting my elbow on the window, I lean my chin against my hand and stare out. “I hadn’t thought of myself in that position.” I turn back to face her. “Tell me it’s okay to follow my heart with him.”
Her smile is soft, sincerity straining the edges. “I can’t do that. Only you can decide if that’s the right path for you.”
The SUV loops into the airport, and I know my time with her is running out. “I guess I should have listened to my brothers. It was never about Cash but the situation we’re now in.”
“Your brothers said they would have never banned you from the races if they had known about you and Cash. It’s out there now, so we’ll move through the storm together as a family and handle the coverage the best we can.”
“Thank you.”
When the vehicle comes to a stop, the driver gets out and grabs my suitcase.
I unbuckle and lean over to give her a hug. She embraces me like she always has—as if I can do no wrong—and says, “I love you. Take care of yourself.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
Just as I climb out, she says, “Think about going to Brazil next weekend. I think it will be good for you to be there.”
“Okay. If I can get away, I will.”
As I roll my case through the private security doors, I think about everything she said. It wasn’t a conversation I would have sought to have, but it was needed.
The media was alerted of my arrival, so when I landed, they swarmed, asked questions that would make even the strongest feel weak, and shoved me twice before security intervened. With Poppy back in New York, I have no choice but to run to the car line and wait my turn.
Fortunately, security shuffles me to the front as the words “cheater” and “Corbin” are tossed out with one or two “slut” and “horrible person.” Those words should bounce off me like a rubber ball, but they still hurt when I realize this is what they think of me.
What the hell?
Tears fill my eyes, and with no time to find my sunglasses, they fall.
A back door is opened and through watery vision, I squeeze through the chaos.
The phone in my back pocket buzzes as I climb inside the car.
I don’t even care if my suitcase makes it at this point. I tell the driver, “Go. Please go.”
How do I go from one of the best nights of my life to dropping my head into my hands and crying?
“Are you okay, miss?”
“No. I’m not.” I turn to look outside, but something catches my attention in my periphery. I look at the driver again and see him handing me a box of tissues.
He says, “I’m sorry. That was awful.”
Taking the box, I stare at him. As awful as that was back there, here I’m being offered the kindness of a stranger.
“Thank you.” This is what matters. Not people who make more money off upset celebrities or the paparazzi who make a living off provoking someone to capture their worst in a photo. “I appreciate it.”
He nods, focusing his attention forward for the remainder of the drive. My phone keeps blowing up, but I’ll deal with that when I’m back at the apartment. I take a deep breath, deciding that taking a moment in the quiet will benefit me more.
The quiet doesn’t last long when I get into the apartment, but I leave the other calls for later. I just need to hear one voice to feel better.
“What the fuck just happened back there?” Cash answers on speakerphone. I assume he needs room to pace.
“How do you already know what happened at the airport?”
“It’s all over social media. I was texted links.”
“Are you okay, Marina?”
I’m not okay, but worried I’ll anger him more, I whisper, “I’m—”
“Don’t say fucking fine. Are you hurt?”
I might need to pace myself. “Don’t talk to me like that.” I put him on speaker and walk to the sliding glass door. “I’m okay.”
He exhales loudly, then says, “I’m sorry. Where is your security? The fuck is going on that you’re being pushed in a crowd, and nobody thinks to help you?”
“Airport security intervened. I’m fine. Really. I’m not hurt, Cash. My pride is bruised, but physically, I’m all right.”
“Do you have a security team, or does the movie provide a detail to protect its stars?”
Spotting someone in the distance, I squint my eyes. “Oh my God. Some guy has a long lens aimed into my apartment.” I quickly shut the blinds.
“It’s not safe there. You need to get to a place with active security on duty.”
Stuck standing in the dark, I sit on the couch when my feelings start to overwhelm me. “I . . . Poppy’s at home . . . alone. I have no food.”
A video request rings and I see him trying to connect. I swipe at my tears before accepting and plaster on a fake smile. He’s angry, not at me, but I don’t want to deepen the emotion. He needs to focus on his career. “Hi,” I say, holding the phone up so he can see my face.
The shock of how handsome he is never seems to wear off. I can’t take my eyes off him. “I’m coming to get you,” he says. “If they can’t protect you, I will.”
“I can’t just leave because some paparazzi pushes me or calls me a slut.”
“What? The fuck?” I gulp, realizing I probably shouldn’t have said that. He rubs his temple as he looks away, almost sounding disappointed in me. When he turns back, he asks, “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”
“I know,” I whisper. “But why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not, babe. I just want to punch their fucking faces in.”
I don’t want to let fear dictate how I move in life, but it’s hard. I need to turn it into anger. “So do I right now.” I throw my arm out wide. “I thought it was bad after Miami, but now the whole world seems to be on his side.”
“There aren’t any sides. There are his lies, and your team is doing a shit job of turning this around.” He takes a breath as if to calm himself. “I can come get you, and we can spend the week in Sāo Paulo together.”
It may not solve my problems, but the offer is tempting. I stand back up, coming to my senses. Carrying the phone into the kitchen, I shake my head. “I can’t, Cash. As much as I want to, all that will do is leave it for when I get back or make it worse.”
He looks away, natural light shining on his face. His head lowers when he turns back to me. “I’m sorry for causing this. Please let me fix it.”
“Causing what, babe?” I clear my throat and stand in the light of the fridge. “Causing me to fall madly in love with you? You’re guilty, and there’s nothing you can do to fix me, so we just have to adapt.”
A wry smile models for me on his face. Damn him. He can’t even help how attractive he is. “You just have to steal all the good lines.”
“Are they working?”
“They sure are.” He keeps smiling like he doesn’t know how to make another expression. And I love it. The light that gleans in his greens. The lines that form at the corners of his eyes. The way he looks at me like we’re in person standing face-to-face. He’s so authentically himself it’s enviable.
I move into the bedroom and turn on a lamp. “I have good news.”
Running a hand over his head, he says, “We could use some.”
“If I can, I’m going to take you up on the offer of Brazil next weekend because the ban was lifted.”
Surprise shapes his face, but then he smirks. “How’d you get that lifted?”
“I told my family how much I love you.”
“Ah,” he says with a slight nod. “My flight to Brazil with the Westcott brothers should be interesting.”