28. Chapter Twenty-Eight—Carlotta
Chapter Twenty-Eight—Carlotta
To no one’s surprise, Cass wipes the floor with me at pool.
Not that I mind; it’s hard to care very much about the point of the game, when he has me bent over the table, squeezing my ass through my leather pants and whispering dirty things in my ears.
It’s easy to forget all of my problems when I’m with Cassiel; cocooned in our bubble of flirty banter and suggestive touches. But more than that, he makes me feel a safety I don’t think I’ve felt since my father was still alive and well.
“Jackpot!” Cass grins, potting the final shiny black eight ball with a satisfying thwack of his cue. “I win.”
“Congratulations,” I purr, sliding my hip past his as I move to hang my wooden cue back on the rack on the wall.
I see him move out of the corner of my eye before I feel him grip my hip, twisting me around to face him. It’s impossible to wipe the smile from lips, the crinkled corner of my eyes, when I look at him, taking in every handsome inch of his face.
“Don’t I get a kiss for winning?”
“Is that you want? Just a kiss?”
“I want more than just a fucking kiss and you know it, Princess,” he growls, yanking our bodies flush together and capturing my mouth.
Cass kisses me slowly, as if we have all the time in the world, pulling me deeper and deeper into the slow burning pool of desire between us, until it’s all I want to do but drown in it. In him.
“What else do you want then?” I ask, mouthing a line across his stubbled jaw. I grin into his skin when I feel him shiver, his cock thickening, pressing into my stomach.
He groans, hands tightening on my waist. “Give me some time to think, woman. God.”
“Can’t think now, hm? Cat got your tongue? Should I stop making your cock hard so you can decide what it is that you want?”
“I know what it is I fucking want, Princess. I want you. I just haven’t decided if I want you on your back or your knees or riding the shit out of me.”
It’s my turn to shiver at the erotic mental picture Cass paints oh so easily with his filthy tongue.
I hum, sucking at his thumping pulse point beneath his ear one last time before I pull away. “It’s a good job I’m up for anything then, isn’t it? Oh, look, food’s arrived!”
Crossing the sticky bar floor, I slide into our leather booth, grabbing a perfectly golden crisp nacho chip from the side of my plate, heaped with a lump of fresh looking avocado and popping it in my mouth.
“Oh, that’s so good!” I moan around the morsel, already reaching for another chip.
“Father Time puts a little lemon dressing over the avocadoes. His own secret recipe.” Cassiel plucks a seasoned fry from his own plate as he slides in opposite me, chewing it over while he watches me.
“But if you don’t stop moaning like that, there’s isn’t going to be any time for you to eat the nachos at all. ”
“What are you going to do about it?” I sass, this time scooping up a dollop of cheese, sour cream, and salsa.
Cassiel takes a deep pull of his beer before he answers, the thick column of his throat bobbing with his swallow.
“Oh, Princess. I’ll take you in the bathroom and fuck you senseless.
It wouldn’t be my first option, but” —he pops his broad shoulders in a shrug— “sometimes it’s impossible to wait when I know how good your tight little pussy feels swallowing my cock, begging for me to fill you up just the way you need. ”
Don’t I fucking know it.
Feeling my cheeks burn hot, I break his gaze.
“Mm. How does… Rome… feel about you being out with me tonight?” His name sticks in my throat, bringing with it memories I wish I could forget. An impossible task. “How does he feel about… us?”
If Cassiel is put off by the change of topic, he doesn’t show it. Rather, he picks up his burger with both hands, elbows steady on the table as he takes a bite. My core clenches when his tongue pokes out to catch a stray bead of sauce on his plush bottom lip before it can drip.
“He understands. He gets it. Rome and I are open with one another; there’s no room for jealousy within our relationship. Never has been and never will be.”
I blink. “Oh.”
“Not when it comes to you anyway, Princess.”
I frown while I eat a little more. This isn’t the first time Cass has said something similar about Rome and him sharing me.
Nor is it the first time that my stomach has flipped while my pussy drips, thinking about it. The two of them. Me sandwiched in the middle; Cass in my mouth, Rome rutting into my core, filling me up, consuming me—
I roll my lips together. I’m supposed be hating the man.
I do hate him.
So, why am I still fantasizing about him?
“You okay over there? You’re looking a little flushed, Lottie.”
I meet Cass watchful eye, noting the smirk dancing across his mouth.
He knows.
Either I’ve gotten shit at lying over the past couple of years or Cassiel has a supersonic ability to learn someone’s tells straight off the bat.
“I’m fine.” I try to brush him off with a smile. “I’m just going to use the restroom. Excuse me for a minute.”
Slipping away, I make a beeline for the restroom hidden away in the back, past the lit-up slot machines. I follow the metal sign in the shape of a gun, no less, pointing to the left for the ladies, bypassing the twin sinks and locking myself in the middle of the three stalls.
Emptying my bladder, I focus on the sound of my breathing and the sudden bang of the door when somebody bounds through, their heels clicking against the floor.
Flushing, I unlock the stall door, smoothing down the wrinkles in my leathers before I look up at the blonde bombshell leaning over the sink to peer at herself in the mirror.
Her hair is a riot of honey-colored curls, artfully tousled down her back. She wears painted on leather pants, not too dissimilar to mine, although hers are fire truck red in comparison and a black tank top, which does nothing to hide her heavy chest.
Full lips purse as she slicks on a fresh layer of pink, glittery lip gloss, her full cheeks rosy, red with rouge and a sparkle in her golden-brown eyes that sings of tousled bedsheets and ecstasy I know only too well.
When she spots me watching her, she smiles widely, showcasing a row of perfectly pearly whites.
“Hey, doll. I like the leathers.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, moving to wash my hands and splash the apples of my cheeks with some cold water. Maybe that’ll stop me thinking about Rome bending me over this very sink while Cassiel watches us, stroking himself until he cums—
“I’ve never you before,” Blondie leans her back against the ceramic beside me. “Are you new?”
I straighten up, grabbing a set of biodegradable paper towels to dry my sodden hands “New?”
“Yeah, the new bike bunny. I heard Carly was going to be showing you around, but I didn’t know—”
“I’m not a bike bunny,” I choke out, stuck half between laughing and half in disbelief. “Do I—Is that what I look like?”
Peering down at my own clothes, I reposition the lace bow holding my top together, wishing for the time all evening that maybe I should have worn something a little… more.
“I’m sorry,” giggles the blonde, patting my hand. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just… you look hot and we don’t get a lot of girls around here that aren’t… well…”
“Bike bunnies?” I supply.
“Yeah! It’s not a bad thing! I’m not women shaming; definitely not.
It’s the twenty first century, we can do as we please with our bodies.
I just thought…never mind. I’ll shut up now.
I have a tendency to run my mouth before I think, it’s my fatal flaw.
I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I didn’t mean any harm by it. ”
This time I really do laugh, taking in her sweet smile and the bubbliness of her personality spilling out over the top. “No harm taken. I’m Carlotta.”
“Mariah Jean.”
“Oh.” My eyes widen. “You’re the famous Mariah Jean, huh?”
She rolls her brown eyes playfully, cocking out a shapely hip. “Who’ve you been talking to? Was it Lake? It can’t have been Colt because we were a little” —she licks her lips and raises her groomed brows— “preoccupied, if you catch my drift.”
Our shared laugher ricochets across the walls and the shiny mirrors until it rings in my ears.
“Cassiel told me about you.”
That has Mariah Jean dropping her mouth in shock.
“Cassiel’s here?”
I nod, watching her smile grow and grow, taking over her entire face. “Yeah, he’s outside chowing down on his burger as we speak.”
“Are you guys together?!”
“Something like that,” I agree, matching Mariah’s smile. It’s hard not too when her glee is so infectious. How can somebody so smiley and so joyous as her be in charge of his entire crew of the Dolcie Reapers?
Before I really know what’s happening, I’m being pulled into a hug just as tight and as squeezing as the one Genie gave me when I walked in, and Cassiel announced me as his girlfriend. I guess it’s not surprising, seeing as Mariah is her flesh and blood.
It takes me a heartbeat to hug her back before she’s linking her arm through mine, dragging me out of the quiet seclusion of the restroom and back out into the bright lights of the rowdy bar.
“I know you’re conventionally good looking, Cassiel, at least you would be if I hadn’t seen you vomit your guts up after one too many games of beer pong, but I’m really not sure how you managed to snare Carlotta in your grasp.”
He turns at the sound of Mariah’s taunt, burly arms crossed, eyes flicking between the two of us while I dip back into our booth.
“My big… heart, probably.”
I snort laugh into my glass of wine, kicking my foot into his under the table.
When Cassiel grins in my direction, I can’t help the way my heart tap dances in my chest cavity. He’s got the prettiest smile—the crinkle of his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks—and it’s all for me. How fucking lucky am I?
“Yeah, whatever,” Mariah Jean tuts, shoving his muscular shoulder. He hardly jolts under her sharp shove, a wall of tightly toned and well-defined muscle. “Seriously, how did he convince you to date him, Lottie?”
I chew a cube of avocado and salsa, the bite of lemon dressing coating my tongue. “With his big… heart, of course.”
Cassiel and Mariah both throw their heads back with uncontained laughter. I’ve never had so many people to laugh alongside with and rib into. It’s a nice feeling, if not a little strange.
Stealing a crispy fry for herself, Mariah braces a hand on the leather behind my head while she surveys the space around us. I see Lake, his shock of dark hair glinting practically midnight in the overhead golden lightening, meet her gaze before he looks away, a little too quickly for my liking.
Cassiel must catch it too as he asks, “What’s going on with the two of you? Lover’s spat?”
With more venom that I thought was possible for the golden ball of sunshine, happy-go-lucky person I deem Mariah to be, she spits, “Shut up, Cassiel.”
I see the moment her shoulders drop, she leans her shapely frame over to steal a pickle from his plate. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Nothing.” Mariah smiles at Cass, but it’s tight-lipped and waxy. I’m not quite sure who she’s trying to convince; herself or Cass and I. Either way, it’s obvious things are far from okay between her and Lake.
“I gotta get going, Reaper stuff to deal with,” she sighs, making a grab for my phone lying on the tabletop. “Open up your cell so I can put my name in your contacts. We should get coffee or something away from all this testosterone.”
Keying in my code, I hand my cell over for Mariah to thumb in her number.
“I’d like that,” I say, genuinely meaning it.
All of the female ‘friendships’ I’ve ever had in my life have all been about being in competition with one another, catty remarks reeled off barbed tongue, wrapped in faux fur and tulle to make you believe they’re saying those things with your best interest at heart.
But something tells me Mariah Jean isn’t like that.
And for once, it would be nice to get to bond with another woman.
“I’ll text you.” She grins before squeezing Cass’s shoulder. “And you, don’t be a stranger, okay? We hate thinking the worst has happened.”
Cass nods, lips pressed tightly together as if he can’t speak.
Without a second glance, she flounces off, disappearing behind the bar and through the swing door that leads to the kitchen. Three heartbeats later, I see Lake stand to his full height, lumbering through the crowd and following in Mariah’s heeled footsteps.
“What’s going on between the two of them?” I ask, swinging my gaze back around to land on Cass.
“Lake’s in love with her and she doesn’t want to ruin their friendship. At least that’s what I gather. Neither of them will say anything about it.”
I grimace, taking a final sip of my wine. “How long have they been friends?”
“Since they we’re toddlers. They’ve practically been attached at the hip; wherever MJ went, Lake followed.”
“Sounds messy.”
Cass bobs his head, tipping his beer to get the last of the dregs. “I’m sure they’ll sort it out in their own time. You done eating, Princess?”
“Yeah.” I push my plate away. “God, everything was so delicious but I’m full to the brim.”
The corner of Cassiel’s lips tip up. “Not yet you’re not.”
I roll my eyes, good naturedly. “I meant about the food, dumbass.”
Laughing, he captures my hand across the table, flipping it over until he can trace the prominent blue vein running beneath the thin skin of my wrist. “Ready to get out of here?”
“I am if you are, but don’t you want any dessert? Surely, Father Time makes—”
“Oh, I want dessert, Princess.” He grins. “But it’s between your legs rather than something Father Time can cook up. And I plan on taking my time devouring every. Sweet. Inch you have to offer.”