Chapter 8
Channing
“Mr. and Mrs. Burch, your private catamaran cruise awaits,” our butler for the week says as we board the vessel for the sunset booze cruise I booked at the last minute for Cassidy and me.
It’s been four days since I gave into my desires for Cassidy. Four days of uninterrupted, well almost uninterrupted sexual bliss. And in just three days, it will be back to reality. A reality where Cassidy may wake up and realize that this vacation is exactly what it is.
A ruse.
A rebound to get her mind off the jackass in Arizona.
For as long as you’ll have me.
I meant what I said, but it doesn’t matter what I want in the end. It never did. Cassidy deserves so much more than a guy who always follows his dick off to green pastures. She deserves more than me. And though I’d wait tooth and nail for the rest of my life, I’d also be waiting for her to wake up and realize that I wasn’t the man for her. Just like my ex did.
“I’m beginning to think you’re enjoying this,” Cassidy says, pulling me from my thought as she snuggles into my side as we make our way to the front of the boat. “However, I wish you would have just dropped the whole last name thing. Neither of us are Burches.”
“Relax,” I say, with a smirk as we take a seat next to one another at the top of the boat. “I charged it to my black card, so they know who I really am. I just asked them to go along with it a little while longer.”
Her mouth hangs open as she takes in my confession. It’s not like they don’t know I’m not Vince the moment we arrived. She may not have noticed, but I’ve taken at least a dozen photos and given out more autographs than I can count. Yet, I let her believe that no one recognized us. I had felt it would give her more freedom to let go and relax a little. She needed it.
After a few beats of silence, she finally focuses her gaze on me, her chin lifting ever so slightly so she can take in my features illuminated from the burnt oranges and pinks of the setting sun.
“We go home in three days,” she says, quickly turning to look out at the water.
I study her profile as the warm glow from the setting sun flints across her face. Her brows furrow with questions. The gears turning in her head. Wondering what is to come when we leave.
My arm tightens around her shoulders as I squeeze her even closer to me. If I had it my way, we would take this head on. I was tired of waiting, but I knew as soon as we returned to Seattle, she’d realize that I wasn’t it for her. Who am I kidding? No one is good enough for her. Yet every ounce of me is exhausted of fighting our attraction so if three days is all I have left to prove to her that I’m all in, then so be it.
“Are you worried about going home?” I ask as I feel her tense beneath me.
“Maybe,” she says, her shoulders finally shrinking. “I’m scared.”
It comes out as a whisper, so low that I wouldn’t have heard it if I weren’t paying attention. “Scared of Vince?”
“Scared of what’s going to happen to us when we arrive home,” she says, shifting to look at me full on. “This week has been everything I imagined, but what happens when we go home? When our magic bubble bursts? You said you were all in, but was that only for this week? A month? A—”
I cup both sides of her face, holding her head still. My thumbs slowly working the smooth porcelain skin beneath them as her breathing from her impending panic attack slowly dissipates. “You have me for as long as you want me,” I reiterate as I stare into her icy blue eyes. “This week only, or a month or two. I am all in, Cass. You’re the only one for me and have been for quite some time.” Probably since that first night in the hotel room, but I don’t tell her that. “So, what’s it gonna be?”
Her mouth crashes down on mine as my hands move down the sides of her face, brushing the sides of her slender neck as I grip the back of her neck, holding her in place as my tongue invades the inside of her mouth. Her hips shifting causes her dress to move higher on her tanned thighs, teasing me as I struggle with my restraint to not take her here on a booze cruise filled with at least a dozen crew members.
“Cass…” I grit out, breaking our kiss. “If you don’t want an audience, I suggest you wait till we get back to the dock.”
“Let them watch,” she says, crushing her lips back on mine.
I smirk against her mouth as I roll her to her back, supporting my weight above her. This. This right here is what I’ve been missing for so long. What I’ve been avoiding for so long. But not anymore.
My hand moves to her hip, gripping the silk fabric of her dress before bunching it up around her waist. Brushing aside her lace thong, my finger dips between her slick, wet folds. Fuck, she’s going to be the death of me.
“So fucking wet,” I rasp out as I add a second finger to her heat. Working it in and out at a tantalizing pace.
“Channing,” she moans out low and breathy. I feel my resolve is about to crack.
“Jesus fuck,” I mutter as her legs wrap around my waist, pushing herself closer to my fingers. I look away for a moment to make sure no one’s watching before returning my gaze to hers. Adjusting my grip under her ass, I pick her up and make my way to the cabin of the boat. “Out,” I say to some of the crew, taking in their wide-eyed gazes before placing Cassidy on the bed.
Her eyes are filled with mirth as she stares at me. Waiting. Anticipating my next moves. My hands work their way up her silky-smooth thighs, reaching the dampened fabric of her thong. Pulling the fabric slowly down her legs, I tuck it into my shorts pocket, saving them for later. Brushing a finger against her wet fold, I gently part them, pushing a tip in just a little bit. Her back arches as a low moan escapes her beautiful, plump lips.
Fuck, I am completely obsessed with this girl. No feral.
“Tell me, Cass, what do you want me to do with this sweet, tight pussy of yours?”
She bites her lips as I push my finger further, working it in and out slowly before adding a second. Her breathless gasps only urge me on, drive me deeper into a blissful haze.
“Tell me, Cass,” I murmur close to her ear, pressing kisses on the tender skin along her neck. “Tell me what my good girl needs. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”
“More,” she cries out. “I need you to touch me. Make me come.”
My pulse quickens as my cock stiffens. I add a third finger, steadily increasing my pace as she becomes wetter, dripping. Her pussy pulses, tightening around my fingers as she reaches her climax. My name tumbles from her lips as she falls apart. My cock grows hard, straining against the zipper of my shorts, begging to be buried deep inside her.
“Such a good girl,” I say, as I slowly work her down from her climax.
When she finally relaxes, I pull her to the edge of the bed, working the button on my shorts to free my cock. I stroke myself a few times before lining my hard length at her entrance, pushing the head in a little bit. She looks up at me, her eyes hooded and filled with lust. She lifts her hips, as she grabs at my waist, pulling me closer, working my cock further in, inch by inch.
Once I’m fully seated inside her, I move, working my cock in and out at a slow, torturous pace. Bringing her to the edge of another orgasm before backing off only to repeat the process all over again. It’s not long before she’s built up another orgasm. Her walls clench tightly around my cock, strangling it. Ready to milk it for everything its worth.
And she does.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
My phone incessantly alerts on the nightstand, but I don’t move or try to answer.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Cassidy has her limbs tangled with mine as she presses her bare chest to mine. It’s the morning when we return to reality. And I’m already wishing we were back here in our own little paradise.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
For Christ sakes. I carefully unravel myself from Cassidy’s cocoon and snatch my phone from the nightstand. Making my way to the living room, I carefully tap in the passcode to see more than a dozen messages, the bulk from Talya, head of Skipjacks PR.
I open her messages, finding several links to news stories from gossip rags about me. I’m about to open the first link when my phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a message from the last person I wanted to hear from.
Natasha: We need to talk.
Like fuck we do. Natasha is a puck bunny I used to mess around with, but I haven’t seen or talked to her for six months now.
I’m ready to fire off a message to her when a call from Talya appears on my phone.
“Finally, you picked up your phone,” she says, as soon as I swipe to answer.
“Well, good morning to you too,” I grumble as I walk out to the patio. “Why all the messages?”
She sighs loudly through the phone as if she couldn’t be more annoyed by me. “You seriously didn’t look at the links I sent you? This is a problem, Channing. A huge one, and the fact that you haven’t a clue why is even worse.”
“Well, you wanna fill me in then?”
“You’re unbelievable, Halloway, and to think you were my favorite,” she huffs before getting to the reason she called. “Every news article I sent you hasn’t gone to publication yet, but a friend of a friend sent me the prints, and they all focus on you getting some puck bunny pregnant—”
“Bullshit,” I say, cutting her off. “I never touched anyone without suiting up.”
“TMI, Channing. Regardless, she’s claiming you did.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a complete total bullshit lie.” I feel my anger building. “What do you want me to do? Christ sake, Talya. It’s not true.”
“Look, I can try to get them to hold off on posting that story until we know more, but it’s going to cost you a pretty penny,” she says, through a sigh of exhaustion.
Just when I thought I could finally let my guard down. Be the guy I want to truly be and with the woman who’s been driving me mad for years. This shit comes out of nowhere and fucks everything ten times till Sunday.
“Look, we can hold them off for a few weeks. Pay the fees they’re asking while we wait to get a paternity test done,” Talya says, like this will solve all my problems. “When do you come back?”
“Today.”
“Okay. Good. That works,” she says, as if she’s thinking of the next t steps. “I’ll have the team lawyers get in contact with this so-called baby mama and have them set up the test for when you arrive this afternoon.”
Talya goes over her game plan with me for a few more moments, while all I can do is think about what the fuck just happened. How did this happen and when? What’s going to happen to the beautiful woman sprawled out in bed of this gorgeous villa?
I don’t hear a thing Talya says before she disconnects the call. Immediately, I’m pulling up the text thread from Natasha. I know she had to be the source of this fake bullshit.
Channing: You’re damn right we need to talk. What game do you think you’re playing here?
Natasha: Seriously, Channing. That’s rich coming from you. The king of games.
King of games. Sure, I had my fair share of dicking around, but everyone’s known the score. Even Natasha. There was only one girl worthy of ditching the rules I put into place. Yet it could all blow up in my face if what Natasha is claiming is true.
Natasha: Please just meet with me. Café DuPont. 7pm.
Our flight arrives at six, so that gives me enough time to meet Natasha and hear what she has to say. But I made Cassidy a promise that I would leave with her.
This is just one giant cluster fuck. It’s also a reason I avoid relationships… Well, one of the reasons I avoid relationships.
Channing: 7pm sharp. Not a minute later.
Natasha: It’s a date.
Not a date, I think to myself. What a shit show this is. And how do I tell Cassidy about this? Do I even tell her?
Yes, you idiot. Of course, you tell her.
“There you are,” Cassidy says, breaking me from my inner turmoil. “Everything okay?” she asks as she leans her back against the railing overlooking the beach.
Tell her, you idiot.
“Yeah,” I say, wrapping my arms under her thighs, lifting her so she’s sitting on the railing. “Just had to take a phone call from the team.”
I press a kiss to her lips before trailing my way down her neck. Her back arches into my chest as she thrusts her hands into the hair at the base of my neck. Tell her. Now would be the time to tell her, but I can’t bring myself to do it. To destroy the last few moments of bliss with her.
“I can’t believe we’re leaving today,” she says, as she presses her forehead to mine.
“Back to reality,” I say, as if it pains me.
She pulls back to look me in the eye, a question furrowing her brow. “Let’s get packing. We have to leave for the airport soon,” I say, distracting her from my indifference.
“Leaving paradise and back to reality,” she says, with a sigh.
A reality I was certain she’d be in, but now, I’m not so sure.