All In (8 page)

A growl rumbled in his throat from just thinking of that jerk hitting on Cass. Even if she didn’t need him. She was his.

What?

Oh, fuck. What was he thinking? She wasn’t his. She was Cass. She was his friend. Just his friend.

Wasn’t she?

Yes, she was the first person he thought of when something happened. The person he wanted to spend every Friday with curled up on the couch. He loved their hugs and harmless flirtation. It was just easy with Cass, and he didn’t want to mix up friendship with something else. He couldn’t. Thoughts of jealousy and possession…those would get him into some serious trouble, and he’d had enough trouble to last a lifetime and more.

A
s was becoming
their weekly routine, they curled up together on his oversized couch, watching the tv. She’d started looking forward to Friday nights in, where she could watch a good movie in comfortable clothes, eating comfort food that was washed down with good wine, but not have to do it all alone. From time to time she and Lo used to do this—without the snuggling, though she was pretty sure Lo would’ve snuggled if she’d asked, and that would have been weird. But Lo was spending more and more nights with Dan, leaving Cass on her own most weekends. She had other friends, but none that she enjoyed as much as Maddox, and the thought bothered her a bit.

She should be out there trying to find a real someone to fill the void. Someone that could be more to her than a friend who would disappear when he found the love of his life. Instead, she was laying on his couch, curling up against him, and falling for the illusion that this was a good idea.

Instead of dwelling on how bad an idea it was for her to be at his place every Friday, she decided to concentrate on the movie they were supposed to be watching. But his absentminded strokes on her arm were distracting. She closed her eyes and sighed quietly as another tingle followed the brush of his fingers.

“You okay?” he asked, peering over at her.

Was she okay? No, she wasn’t okay. She thought she was okay. She thought she could handle this. She thought she was setting aside the little crush she had on him and just being his friend; that being in his arms was just comfortable companionship. Nothing more. But the electricity that coursed through her from each caress exposed her lie.

“Fine,” she choked, but tears brimmed in her eyes.

“No, you’re not,” he turned down the tv, and faced her. His hand stroking her cheek.

“Stop, please.” Her whisper was barely audible as she pulled his hand away.

“Cass-“

“No, no. Please.”

“What’s wrong, please tell me,” he begged, taking her face in both his hands. She finally looked him in the eye, his distress evident.

“You-, you can’t touch me like that,” she admitted, shame searing her cheeks.

“Like what? We’ve sat like this a hundred times.”

They had sat like that a hundred times, and half the time she was fighting off a need to touch him more. But she’d finally had enough. Her body craved what her mind feared the most. She swallowed the lump in her throat and closed her eyes.

“Cass, c’mon. What’s really going on.”

“Touch. It’s touch.”

“We always touch. What’s the big deal.”

“It’s always been a big deal. I just-“

His eyes widened.

“I’m lonely, okay. And touch, it just…it just does something sometimes.”

He hugged her, and pulled her back to his side.

“You really need to get laid,” he kissed the top of her head.

“Don’t I know it.”

“I can help,” he grinned, looking down at her. Her eyes widened, horrified. That was not a direction she needed to go. Temptation was always there, but action was a different thing. She’d never recover if she went there. Never. And while she knew this Friday night thing was a terrible idea, and she knew it had to end soon, she wasn’t giving into what he appeared to be offering.

He laughed. “No, no. I mean, I can help you find someone.”

Oh. Okay. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or hurt. Of course he didn’t want her. This was Maddox Paul. He slept with models and women whose bodies were to die for. He wouldn’t want someone like her. She was like his little sister. Even though she wasn’t planning to give into the temptation he presented, she had allowed herself to hope the illusion was real—just for that one second. A moment when she thought maybe he was struggling with the same attraction that tore her apart. Now she was no better than those other women who thought they had a chance with the beautiful man in front of her.

“You’ve promised that before, jerk,” she play-slapped his muscled chest, hiding her emotions behind her game face once again.

“Well, it’s been a few years. I’ve met more people. Tell me what you want,” he stroked her arm. He was serious. She didn’t want to discuss this with him. Not now. Not with her desires like raw nerves.

“A man,” she gave him the vaguest answer she could. She knew what she wanted, and she knew what her body craved. She couldn’t admit it. Not even to him. Especially not to him. Hell, she could barely admit it to herself.

His laugher rumbled in his chest as Cassidy played with a button on his shirt. “Yes, I get that. I mean, I figured you didn’t change sides. Cass, what do you want in that man? Tall, blonde, successful, funny?”

Could she admit it out loud? There were so many depraved things in her head. No one would really understand, would they?

“Sure,” she mumbled.

“That’s not a real answer, honey. You’ve been tied up in knots for years, and there has to be a reason.”

“It doesn’t matter, Mad. It really doesn’t. It’s not like they’d want me, no matter what my preferences are,” she admitted, the tears starting to flow.

He hugged her tight, and got up.

“Where are you going?” she snapped. She starts to cry and he just gets up? Jerk!

“Getting more wine. I think we’re going to need it.”

* * *

A
new pour
and another hug later, he wasn’t open to changing the subject. “Why is it so hard for you?” he got straight to the point, as he always seemed to do.

She should have given him the answer she gave everyone. That she was just waiting for the right person, that sex was hard for her if she didn’t trust someone. But really, that wasn’t it. If people knew what she really wanted, what would they think? She was so strong, so forward. She had her own power. She led and managed people with authority. She preached and lived feminism, so how could she admit this out loud?

But this was Maddox. He would know if she was lying. He always knew when she hid something from him. Damn his persistence.

“Just say it, Cass. Just-“

“Because most men aren’t enough,” was all she could spit out. She couldn’t even look at him when she said it. God, she was acting like a child. This wasn’t how women her age acted.

He cocked his head. “What?”

“Mad, you know this. Why haven’t you remarried? You can’t tell me you just haven’t found ‘her’ yet. You border on ‘male whore’ territory. C’mon.”

“I haven’t. That’s the truth.”

“But you’ve never defined ‘her,’ have you?”

He paused. He hadn’t, and she knew it. How many times had she asked him, and he never, ever answered. Sure, he fawned over every pretty girl he dated. Flaunted a few of them. And who wouldn’t? She would have flaunted them, too.

“But at least I’m out there. You hole yourself up. You put up these walls, Cass. Why? There are plenty of guys interested…”

“There aren’t, but even the ones who are, they aren’t…they just can’t…”

“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

“What? Who?”

“Your ex. What did he do?”

She laughed. Sure, she could have blamed Blaine. She could have just looked at Maddox and put her whole fucked up sex life on Blaine’s shoulders. But it wasn’t him. She had dated after him, including Toph in her body count. She’d had sex after Blaine. For a while she tried to blame him, but really, this was on her. This was all about her own little brand of crazy.

“Nothing. I told you before, it wasn’t him.”

Maddox adjusted himself on the wide couch and pulled her down next to him. They faced each other, propped up on their elbows.

“Close your eyes.”

“Mad-“

“Just close them.”

She did. He ran his fingers of his free hand along her arm sending shivers down to her core. He really needed to stop doing that. They were having a heart-to-heart conversation, and the pulsing in her core was making it difficult to think about anything but straddling him.

That thought had to stop, too.

“If you did have sex again, tell me what it would be like.” Maddox’s voice was soft, hypnotic, pulling on her imagination.

And she did picture it. With him. Maddox. But not the Maddox that was driving her crazy with his touches. This was the Maddox that only lived in her imagination. The one that made even the real thing seem “less than.”

“I can’t…”

“Just try. Look, I’ll tell you something first. I want someone who needs me. I want someone I can take care of, that makes me feel like a man. I know it sounds so backwards and misogynistic. I really do want her to be successful in her own right, but I still need her to need me,” he offered, his voice earnest, causing her to open her eyes. She met his far-off gaze, his worried eyes distant. She brushed her hand on his cheek.

“It’s okay. I get it,” she soothed, and his face relaxed.

“But this isn’t about me. Cass, close your eyes,” he drew her lids down with a feather-light touch.

She bit her bottom lip. She was much better at listening to people’s deepest, darkest secrets. Telling her own was torture.

“Please,” he pleaded, stroking her face. “Tell me what makes it worth it for you.”

“Power,” she breathed. She could only come up with one word, and her stomach sank.

He was silent, like he always was when he was waiting to hear more.

“I don’t want to be the one to take the lead,” she continued, tears streaming down her cheeks as the words started pouring out. Once she started saying it, the words kept coming, an overflow of emotions she’d kept walled off from the world. “I want someone who wants me. All of me. My surrender. I want heat. I want someone who can take me. Just take me. That doesn’t need to ask. I want someone who understands I don’t need gentle, but I need to feel protected and loved. I want someone who knows how to give pleasure and revels in it. I want someone who gets that it takes no more than a light touch to set me on fire, who knows that every part of me burns at a mere whisper against my skin. I want someone who understands that there are times for long nights of lovemaking and other times when I just need to be thrown up against a wall and pounded.”

She breathed in. “But all that requires trust. I can’t do it without trust. A quick screw won’t do it. It won’t satisfy this need to be…” she opened her eyes and met his gaze, “dominated.”

He wiped away a tear with his thumb and placed it on her lip before leaning in to kiss it away. His lips were soft, just as she imagined, and her core pulsed at the contact.

She couldn’t do this.

“I didn’t ask -“ A spark of panic forcing her to push him away. “I don’t need a pity fuck,” she said, pushing up, anger burning inside. She had just told him everything. Everything! And he used it.

He pulled her back down, rolling her underneath him. “There is no pity about this,” he said, and kissed her harder. A moan escaped her throat, and she blushed. Every part of her was on fire. She had dreamt about his kisses more times that she cared to admit. She had soaked more panties at thoughts of the dream man more times than she could count. But that was dream Maddox. That was her idealization of a man with his face.

Now here he was, teasing her lips with his own. Pressing hard, kneading them between his. His tongue ran along her lower lip, begging entrance into her mouth. The gasp that escaped her lips as he ran his finger along her collarbone gave him the entrance he desired, and his tongue stroked hers. Satisfaction took root at his low growl when she drew his lip between her teeth and tugged lightly before pulling away.

His eyes were heavy with lust, and now his lips were ruby red and swollen. She had done that. She blushed again and looked away. It was too much.

He continued to run his finger back and forth across her collarbone, resting at the crook of her throat, causing her to close her eyes and shudder.

Her trembling hand pushed his away. She couldn’t think clearly with him touching her like that, with him hovering over her like the lover he could never be.

“Mad, please. I can’t-“

“Don’t, Cass. Stop thinking so hard.” Maddox pressed his forehead to hers.

“It’s a bad idea, and you know it,” she argued. She had to argue. They’d be making a huge mistake.

Wouldn’t they?

“You want me,” he whispered, tingles trailing where his fingers stroked her arms, down her side, resting on her hips.

She swallowed hard. Of course she did. She’d wanted him since the day she met him, when he winked and smiled as if they shared their own inside joke. The connection had been as instant as her attraction. When other people ran away, intimidated, she held her ground. When he tried to pull his charming bullshit on her, she called him on it. Even with an undying attraction, she had never once acted on it. He was as close as she’d ever let a man get, without getting sexual, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to let that go. If this happened, she’d lose him. Forever.

“But you don’t want me,” she pushed him, but he still didn’t move.

“I never said that,” he growled, running his nose along her chin as his hand moved under her shirt, stroking her bare skin. The sensation was overwhelming as she arched into him.