20. Theo Fairview #2
Not wanting to take away from her moment, I gritted my teeth against the pleasure, barely allowing my hands to spasm on her hips as she continued to slowly ride out the aftershocks of her climax.
“That’s it, baby,” I hummed, brushing my thumbs over her hip bones as she slowly came down on top of me. “You did so good, sweet girl,” I whispered, and she blinked at me, looking cum-drunk and totally irresistible.
“Theo?” she breathed, almost as if she was coming out of a fugue state. She frowned, and I smiled up at her, though there was a sinking feeling in my gut telling me I was about to get my heart broken.
“Yeah, baby girl?” I asked softly, reaching up and brushing my thumb gently over her puffy bottom lip. “You alright?”
Her frown deepened, and her eyes searched mine. I flinched, waiting for what I knew was coming.
She was going to be horrified with herself.
She was going to tell me this was a mistake.
She was going to call the whole fake wedding thing off and go back to ghosting me and ignoring my texts.
It was okay.
I’d prepared for this.
I knew this was a possibility, but even if she never spoke to me again, it had been worth it.
At least I could keep the memory of how beautiful she looked falling apart on top of me.
It was something I planned on clinging to long after she was gone.
Maybe it could be one of my three good things.
My eyes stung with tears as I braced for the impending pain.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
Don’t let her see you cry.
I must have closed my eyes, because I jumped in surprise as warm fingers gently cupped the side of my face.
I looked up to find Cassandra still staring at me, but she wasn’t frowning anymore.
She was smiling, her brown eyes sparkling with something… playful?
“Well, to answer your earlier question, I think I might be attracted to women,” she teased, and a surprised half laugh, half sob erupted out of me when I realized I had read her completely wrong.
She wasn’t ghosting me. She was just trying to work out her sexuality. I’d been selfish to make this about me. It should have always been about her.
Cass frowned again, and I cursed myself for being the one to take that smile away.
She brushed her thumb across my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t been able to keep from falling.
“Why are you crying?” she whispered, her voice full of tender concern. I shook my head, unable to keep what I was sure was a goofy, shit-eating grin from spreading across my face.
Instead of answering her, I sat up abruptly and wrapped my arms around her waist before rolling to flip her beneath me on the couch.
She squealed as I peppered her face and throat with kisses, and I laughed at how girlie and cute she was being right now.
I didn’t think I’d ever heard her giggle like that, and it was making my heart fucking soar.
“I’m glad I got to be the one to help you figure that out, princess,” I said, shifting us so we were both lying facing each other on the couch.
I gently tugged her skirt back down to cover her up, and she grinned at me from inches away.
Her cheeks were still pink and rosy from the orgasm we’d worked out of her moments before, and I took a mental snapshot so I could always revisit it later.
“Theodora?” She smirked.
“Cassandra?” I teased.
“Will you fake marry me so I don’t look like a dumbass at work?”
Another breathy laugh burst out of me, and my heart swelled.
I nodded, tugging her in close and kissing her on top of her head, like I’d always dreamed of doing.
“Yes, princess. I’ll marry you.”
“Thank fuck. The lead times on mail-order husbands were just not going to work out.”
I jerked back to gape at her.
“Tell me you’re joking. You were not going to get a mail-order husband.”
“I mean, I definitely looked into it. But Cal and Ryan convinced me to ask you to marry me instead. So far, it’s proving to be a much better option.”
I shook my head, unable to stop myself from grinning at how insane this woman was.
“Good. I mean, I can hold my own in the ring, but I don’t know how well I’d do trying to fight off some 300lb male Russian beef cake. A little above my weight class. I would have had to get creative.”
Cass laughed and swatted my shoulder.
“No fighting Russian beef cakes while we’re married. I want this gorgeous face intact.”
She pinched my chin playfully, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness there, too.
I didn’t bother mentioning that I was planning on fighting a Russian in a few weeks. She just wasn’t a beefcake. More of a rigorously trained, lethal street fighter that already had two casualties under her belt.
But that felt like a bit of a mood killer, so I resolved to keep that piece of information to myself for now.
“Fine. No beefcakes,” I agreed solemnly, and she snorted.
“Good. Now, have you eaten? I think I have some chickpea salad or something in the fridge if you haven’t,” she offered, sitting up and shoving at me impatiently until I followed her lead.
I’d never had chickpea salad before, but if Cass wanted to eat chickpea salad with me, that’s what I was going to eat.
“Sounds like heaven, princess,” I said, resisting the urge to smack her perfect ass as she stalked off toward the kitchen.
We weren’t quite at the casual ass smacking stage yet, but for the first time since I’d met her, I finally had hope that there might eventually be some potential ass smacking going on.
I didn’t care who was smacking whose ass.
I was just happy to fucking be here.
And I would do whatever it took to convince her to let me stay.