12. Cassidy
Chapter twelve
Cassidy
“ S o, it was everything you dreamed of and more?” Mel asks over the phone, late Tuesday afternoon.
“It really was. I’m sad that it was a one-off.” I sigh as I stare blindly at the computer screen before me.
“But does it have to be? Why couldn’t you go for a repeat? What’s stopping you?”
“I told the guys it was just for book research. And we all agreed it was a onetime thing. Dammit, I wish we’d photographed or videoed the whole thing.”
“Really? You’d watch it back?”
“Hmmm, good point. Not sure I want to see what I look like in the swing of things. Maybe the guys would let me take photos of them together? Do you think they’d go for that?”
Mel chuckles down the line. “Probably, Cassidy. Especially Jack, from how you’ve described him. How’s the book going?”
“The book is going amazingly. I got so much inspiration from the weekend. The words are flowing. And I have the whole thing plotted out.”
“That’s awesome. I can’t wait to read this one. Especially knowing it’s based on real life.” Mel’s one of my biggest book fans. She loves smut and is a sucker for a happy ending. She’s the most supportive person outside of my writing buddies and fans. Although, given Jack and Tom’s recent assistance, and knowing they’ve read my stuff, they’re up there in the support rankings as well. “I know what you’re like when you get in the flow. Have you even left your apartment since the weekend?”
“Jeez, you sound just like Tom. Have you drunk water? Are you taking care of yourself?” I lower my voice, trying to imitate his husky tones, but fail miserably. “I have left the house. I’ve been popping out every day for a coffee to make sure I get some fresh air and exercise.”
“Bumped into either of your two hotties on those excursions?”
“No, but the group chat is pretty active. It veers between hilarious and dirty, which I love. Last night, I told them I was struggling with some dialogue. Both their suggestions massively spiced up this section of the book I’m working on. Tom is totally the king of dirty talk.” I let out a happy sigh.
“I’m so happy for you, Cassidy,” Mel says. There’s a wistful tone in her voice.
“How are you doing? Any activity on the dating apps?” Mel and I have shared our woes when we dip in and out of dating. Neither of us last long. Men can be so urgh .
“Nothing. I was on one a week ago and couldn’t even bring myself to message anyone. I’m just not in the mood.”
“Know any guys that would fulfil some of your sexual fantasies like a threesome? I can wholeheartedly recommend that,” I exclaim.
“Ha, I wish! Maybe one day. I’ll just focus on work for now. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.”
Mel works as an events manager and fills me in on the details of a lavish event coming up at the local arts centre.
“Ooooh, a masquerade ball? Do you think I could sneak in? I’d love to put that in a book.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I look out of the window near my writing desk; the sun is shining and there’s a breeze evident in the swaying leaves on the trees. I decide to head out for an evening jog and make the most of British summertime.
I’m just heading out as the internal door near the stairwell opens, and Jack strolls through. He looks magnificent in smart grey trousers, a light blue shirt with an open neck and brown loafers. His sleeves are rolled up, and he’s carrying a smart looking, brown leather laptop bag on one shoulder. He’s looking down at the phone in his hand, but something must alert him to my presence because he pauses and looks up. He grins when he sees me, then takes a leisurely look up and down my appearance.
“Looking delicious as always, Cass,” he drawls.
“Thanks, Jack. You brush up well yourself,” I tell him with a cheeky grin.
“Heading out for a run?”
“Yeah, I’ve been inside writing all day and I thought some fresh air and exercise would do me good.”
“That sounds grand. Want some company?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“Er, I think you’ll be way too quick for me.”
The guy is a machine. I saw him running down the street once. He’d been on his way home from what he deemed a ‘long run’ and still looked as fresh as a daisy. There’s no way I could ever look that effortless. Running is a constant struggle for me, but I know it does me good and I enjoy the smugness I feel after.
“I’ll go easy on you,” he offers. “I could do with some fresh air and exercise myself.”
“You’ve not been to the gym today?” I know he frequents a gym between here and his office.
“Nah, I’ve been in meetings all bloody day. So what do you say? Can I join you?”
“Sure,” I squeak, deciding why the hell not. I gesture to the now closed door behind me. “I’ll just wait inside until you’re ready.”
“Come in with me. I’ll only be a few minutes.” He strolls past me towards his front door.
“Sure.” I follow behind, watching as he unlocks his door and pushes it open. He holds it open, gesturing for me to walk inside first. I head towards the couch and lean there, pulling my phone from my back pocket so I can scroll while I wait. He closes the door and hangs his laptop bag up on the hooks next to it.
“How’s your week been?” He unbuttons his shirt as he moves.
“Good.” A blush makes its way up my cheeks. I’ve done unspeakable things with this man. Why the hell am I blushing? I’ve seen him naked. He’s done dirty things to me, for goodness sake. But the sight of him walking towards me, unbuttoning his shirt, makes me want to swoon.
“Writing going well?” He’s stopped in front of me now and is pulling his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his slacks.
“Yep, smashing my daily word count goal. It’s really coming together.” I try not to stare.
He nods, watching me closely. “So we gave you enough inspiration, then?”
“More than. I could write ten books from the experience last weekend.” I laugh breathlessly.
“I’m glad.”
He toes off one shoe and then the next, bending down to pick them up and strolls over to his bedroom. I can’t stop myself from watching as he makes his way in and tucks them under the bed. He’s facing away from me and I feel like a creeper as I watch him undo his trousers and ease them down his legs.
His thighs are a thing of beauty. Muscled and tanned. I remember noticing the muscles in his thighs moving as he pounded into my mouth. I gulp hard. I shouldn’t be watching. Just because I’ve seen it all before doesn’t mean I have permission to watch him getting undressed now. But as he bends over to take his trousers off one leg and then the other, nothing could convince me to look away.
I feel a little wave of smugness fall over me. I’ve had this man. This man has had me. And I’ll still be remembering it when I’m an old lady.
Jack walks away out of sight without looking back and I snap out of it when he’s no longer in my line of vision. Guessing he must be finding running gear and putting it on, I unlock my phone and open up Pinterest. I type in ‘grey slacks, blue shirt’ and scroll through the images until I find one that reminds me of how Jack looked just now. I pin it to my MMC (main male character) board for later reference. Sometimes I look through that board to get my juices flowing before I write a sex scene.
Jack strolls back out the bedroom wearing shorts and a singlet. He’s brushing his hair to the side and I watch as he puts a cap on.
“I’ll just chuck my trainers on, and I’ll be ready.” He grabs his running shoes from the rack beside the door and puts his phone in a back zip pocket similar to the one on my leggings.
“Ready?” He asks with a big grin on his face.
“Sure thing… but remember, you said you’d go easy on me. This is just supposed to be a light jog to enjoy a summer evening.”
“We’ll keep it easy, I promise.”
We make our way out of the flat and through to the stairwell. Jack suggests a brisk walk to the park as a warm-up and I feel grateful for that because it means I can keep up with conversation without wheezing and puffing everywhere.
I ask about his day as we walk, and he tells me about the meetings he had. We’ve chatted about his job as a business strategist many times since I first met him and his enthusiasm for what he does is always clear as day. He’s like a proud papa when he talks about the successes of the companies he’s worked with.
Once we reach the park, Jack asks if I have a pace in mind.
I look at him blankly and blurt, “I just jog. I don’t really pay much attention to how fast I’m going. I just need the exercise.”
He chuckles. “Okay, Cass, let’s do it your way. You set a pace you’re comfortable with and I’ll fall in line.”
I set off at a steady clip, faster than I normally would, and he makes everything look easy as he jogs beside me. I feel myself getting out of puff and realise that I can’t keep this up all the way round. I can’t talk when I run—I’ve never been able to. It’s normally a good thing because it lets me get out of my head when I’m overthinking, but today I just panic about what Jack will think about me.
Jack’s quiet beside me, and I can’t help but steal glances at him as he moves effortlessly. I wish I could just sit on a bench and watch him run in circles around me. The man is built. We come to the hilly part of the park and I ease my pace, slowing to a stop. I place my hands on the top of my thighs and pant as I look up at the hill in front of us.
“I think I might switch to walking for a bit,” I tell him between puffs. “But you go on, you don’t have to wait for me.”
He shakes his head. “I’m in no rush. I don’t mind walking with you.”
He’s talking again now—chatting about work, and I happily listen with minimal input. I realise that it’s nice to be doing this with him. He’s great company and I like the idea of exercising with someone else. Maybe that would convince me to do it more often. Although I guess Jack wouldn’t want to do this on the regular, as he’s barely breaking a sweat. As we head over the crest of the last hill, he gives me a look that I can’t interpret.
“Race to the bottom?” he asks, raising a brow.
Having caught my breath, I’m ready for the challenge. “You’re on,” I cry as I run so fast it feels like I’m about to fall down. He beats me to the bench at the bottom but not by much, and we both laugh as we come to a stop. “That was fun!”
We stand staring at each other for a moment and he takes me unawares when he leans in and plants a kiss on my lips.
“What was that?” I ask as he pulls away.
“You looked cute. I couldn’t resist.”
I bring my hand up to my mouth and dust my finger over my lips where he kissed me. I don’t know what to make of it, but he’s just as carefree as always as he slaps me on the rump and declares, “Come on, let’s jog back.”