13. Chapter Thirteen— Carlotta #2
Before, I saw his face whilst he spilt himself inside me. Before, he swore to protect me. Before, he took the rug from beneath my feet and yanked, sending me spiraling into a world I thought I’d escaped.
I must make a choked noise for Cassiel peers into my face with a look of concern marring his pretty features.
Up this close, I notice the small curve of the bridge of his nose. It leans a little more to the left and I wonder how often the bones have been broken and set only to be re-broken once more.
“You okay?” he asks.
Swallowing thickly, the bitter pill of reality getting stuck at the base of my throat, I nod.
The suspicious narrowing of Cassiel’s eyes and the tightening of his lips, highlights the creases of his skin around his mouth, but he doesn’t push me any further.
Good.
If he dares even try, I’m liable to kick him in the shin.
“Here. Put this on and we’ll get away.” He thrusts a bulky motorcycle helmet into my chest before turning to grab his own.
I catch the helmet with instinctual reflexes, wrapping my palms around the cool material like you would a soccer ball.
In the reflection of the neon lights up above, I can just make out Cassiel’s fingerprint stains, the whorls and swirls that make up his own DNA, from where his fingers have gripped the smooth surface as he passed it to me.
“Cassiel, I—how the hell do I put this on?”
His low chuckle vibrates through my body, sending shivers down my spine.
With his helmet already on, the visor tipped upwards so I can just make out the mischievous sparkle of his eyes, he sweeps my hair over my shoulders and then places his broader hands on top of mine, helping to push the helmet over my skull.
The whole word dims, everything tinged in a blueish blackish hue, while the scent of fresh mint and that distinct new car smell fills my nostrils. He tightens the strap beneath my chin, testing it doesn’t dig into my flesh and the nods. “There ya go, Princess.”
Cassiel climbs on first, draping one muscular leg over the side of the motorcycle almost gracefully.
My core spasms at the erotic sight; his muscular legs spread lewdly to accommodate the hunk of metal between them, the tight fit of his thin padded jacket which stretches across his toned abdomen, the jut of his ass when he leans a little bit forward to twist one of the handlebars.
Knees knocking, I press my thighs together, watching Cassiel turn the keys in the ignition, keys which have something oddly familiar and lacy hanging from them.
“Are those… my panties?”
“You told me I could keep ‘em.”
“I didn’t mean—never mind.”
Rooting his foot firmly on the gas pedal, the bike roars to life with a snarl, cutting off the rest of my words.
God, he looks fucking hot.
I can tell by the soft skin around his eyes that he’s grinning, tipping his chin towards me. “Get on.”
“Shouldn’t we be wearing leathers or something?” I stall.
Cassiel rakes his gaze up and down the length of my body and then throws his thumb over his shoulder in gesture. “I’ve got some in the back. Want me to strip you down and dress you in them?”
I shove his shoulder. “Shut up. I’m being serious, I—”
“So am I, Princess. Safety first and all. Wouldn’t want anything happening to the precious hairs on your head. So… leathers?”
“Forget I even asked,” I mutter, rolling my eyes beneath the safety of my visor. I’m even more glad still that he can’t see the smile dancing across my lips. “How do I…”
“Grab a hold of my shoulder,” Cassiel directs, reaching back with a leather gloved hand to latch onto my freezing cold fingers as I steady myself. “Now swing your leg up and over.”
I’m clumsy and uncoordinated, landing on top of the bike with an oof!
The cold leather seeps through the thin material of my leggings, biting at the skin beneath, but I count my lucky stars it’s at least padded for some level of comfort.
Leaving a gap between Cassiel and I’s bodies, I lay my hands in my lap and squeeze my thighs, holding them tightly against either side of the hunk of metal. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to keep me from falling off and landing somewhere in the road, with—
“You can’t surely think I’m going to drive away with you sitting all the way back there, do you?”
I raise my head to find Cassiel peering back at me, eyes visibly narrowed through the slit in his open visor.
“What?” I shrug, although I’m less than confident myself. “I’ll be fine.”
“Fine?” he scoffs lowly. “You’ll fucking fall off, Carlotta. Scootch forward and hold onto my waist.”
Mutely, I shake my head, pressing my wind chapped lips together.
But Cassiel won’t take no for an answer. “Seriously, get closer, Princess. For your own safety, at least. I don’t bite, you know…well, not unless you beg me to.”
His words send a rush of heat flaring through me, making my cheeks burn and my core clench in anticipation.
“Carlotta—”
“Will you just give me a minute, I’m fucking terrified at this whole situation and you aren’t helping!” I snap and instantly wish I hadn’t. I don’t mean to spew my annoyance and vitriol at Cassiel, I hardly think it’s his fault.
No. It’s his boss I wish to throttle.
If he hadn’t changed the meeting place, last minute—without telling me, might I add—then I wouldn’t need to be sitting behind Cassiel, contemplating the fact I’m about to ride a chunk of metal without a safety belt or a door to protect me.
Christ.
Cassiel opens and closes his mouth, pausing before he parts his lips again. “What are you scared of?”
“Everything.,” I admit. There’s no use lying to him. He’d probably see straight through my bullshit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, I just—”
“It’s okay, Princess. You don’t need to apologize for your feelings. Ever. You understand me?”
I jerk my head in some semblance of a nod.
Cassiel might be right, but when you grow up with an emotional abusive mother who won’t let you step a foot out of character of the ‘perfect daughter’ she wishes you to be, then unlearning those patterns can be difficult.
In order to protect myself growing up, I learnt apologizing for my feelings were easier than having a battle with my mother. Even better if I simply pretended I had no feelings, whatsoever.
She couldn’t get the joy out of seeing me hurt and upset then.
“If Rome’s taught me one thing, it’s to start with the issue that’s staring you in the face first, so… you’ve never ridden before?”
“No. When on earth would I?”
Cassiel’s throat bobs drawing my attention to the masculine curve of his Adam’s apple.
Everything about Cassiel is masculine, from the hard planes of his body, to the little more than stubble coating his jaw.
It has my whole body setting alight with desire, picturing how good it would feel him have him move inside me, to pin me down and—
I blink, tuning back into the sound of Cassiel talking. “Cristiano had a Harley; I took her for spin a few times. I thought maybe you would have joined him on a ride or two…”
Curling my fingers into fists, I squeeze tightly, feeling my heart crack with each word spilling from my lips.
“My brother might have helped me escape that controlling viper’s den, but we weren’t close, Cassiel.
Certainly not close enough to go around riding his motorcycle together…
like Mother would allow that. In the last decade or so, I hardly knew my own brother at all.
So, excuse me, for never having climbed on the back of his death trap and—”
“Rosita is not a death trap.”
My brows raise of their own accord. “Rosita?”
The leather of his gloves creak as he thumps the bike’s flank. “Uh huh.”
“You named your motorcycle?”
Cassiel nods. “Course. Why wouldn’t I? I give everyone I care about a nickname, Princess.”
Tipping my head to the side, I appraise him. This man never fails to surprise me. “What do you call, Rome? Boss man?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Cassiel laughs. “Now, stop changing the subject. I promised I’d protect you, didn’t I, Princess? I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t protect me from what’s going to happen tonight at the meeting.”
“Oh.” Cassiel’s brows raise halfway up his forehead. “So, that’s what else is bothering you, hm?”
I nod silently.
“I meant what I said. And I know Rome did too. We’re not going to let anything harm you, Carlotta.”
“I don’t…” I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood, shaking my head. “Let’s just go and get this over with, okay?”
I scoot forward until my front is pressed up against Cassiel’s strong back, winding my arms around his waist and lacing them demurely at his front.
He inhales, stomach filling like a balloon beneath my hands, causing the cold metal of his jacket zipper to press into my fingertips.
My body surges into overdrive; my senses turning to high alert.
The heat of Cassiel’s body seeps through my jacket, the scent of his cloves and cinnamon tickling my nostrils. I can’t deny it’s reassuring; the feel of his solid body pressed against mine, serving as a reminder that I’m not alone.
A gloved hand comes up to squeeze my much colder palm in silent reassurance.
“We’ll go slow, alright? Tap twice for yes.”
I pat his abdomen twice to show I’ve heard him.
Brushing the pad of this thumb over my wrist bone, Cassiel stops out at the kickstand and then replaces his foot on the gas pedal.
Over his broad shoulder, I see him tip down the slit of his visor, raise his hand in silent farewell to the security guards of club Euphoria and then he guns the engine without a second warning.