Cash (Sexy Bastard #2) (8 page)

“You’ve listened to one too
many drunk girls.”

He stops and holds up his hands. “Tell
me I’m wrong and I’ll stop this. Just say the
word.”

I’m going to tell him that there
was nothing between me and Tanner, but it’s already been a
night of denial. Instead of answering, I cross my arms. Cash looks at
me.

“Go on, I’m waiting.”

For once I want someone to know how
this man ran my heart over and chains me still.

“Not that I can hold you
accountable for your actions right now, as you’re not willing
to address the fact that you are, in fact, going through a breakup,”
he says.

I haven’t told anyone about
Tanner, and here Cash is and already figured it out. All of the
careful walls I’ve built. Gone.

Cash Gardner has me eating out of the
palm of his hand.

“We are not talking about this
tonight,” I say, trying to sound more like the confident woman
Cash knows me as. I only come across sounding like a petulant child.

“Say no more.” He taps my
chin. “Chin up, Savy. We still have to make our grand exit.
Live a little. You landed a huge account, your boss loves you, and
the room thinks you’re about to run off and have crazy wild sex
with me. If anything, they want to be the ones running away from this
party. So let’s bail. Make them all insanely jealous.”

“As long as you promise not to
sit on those glasses in your pocket, because I don’t want to
spend the rest of my night in the ER.”

It’s his turn to snort.

“Always so worried about me,
Savy. Don’t worry, I keep the important parts of my anatomy
protected. Always.”

We don’t
talk on the way down, but he is still holding my hand from the grand
exit we just made. It’s not until we’re out of the hotel
that the spell breaks. A woman walking in, eyes Cash with an open
invitation. I want to cut her eyes out, but I can’t. He’s
not mine. We’re out of the party now, and there’s no need
for Cash to continue acting like my boyfriend. Five floors up, I
would have been obligated to take the girl out, but here on the
ground floor he’s a free agent.

Cash doesn’t
even seem to notice the girl as she makes a show of bending over to
fix a strap on her heel, clearly putting all her assets on display. I
try to take my hand out of his. A silent way to tell him to go on —
chase it — be yourself, but he won’t let go. I try to
pull away and he gives me a playful tug and side glance. Okay, maybe
it’s just until we are away from the valet attendants.

“You didn’t have to come,”
I say, because I have to put this back in normal territory. The place
where we’re just friends, and I’m not ten seconds from
surrendering to my basest wants.

“‘Thank you, Cash, for
coming to my rescue. I’m so lucky to have you,’ is a more
appropriate answer.”

“It’s not that I don’t
appreciate it, but I asked you to find Cassie and have her come pick
me up.”

Yes, let’s argue over our verbal
contract. That I can understand. That I can fight about, and it will
distract me from what I really want.

Cash only smirks down at me. “Do
you have a problem with me saving you?”

“What…no. It’s just
that you have the bar and your job to take care of. It was…”

“Family first,” Cash says.

“I’m
not your family.” Thank God, because then the dirty
things I want to do to you would not only be a bad idea but also
illegal.

“Not that kind of family. The
five of us guys are a family—Shelby, too, and Cassie’s
now part of that, and you’re grandfathered in through Cassie.”

“That’s not how
grandfathering works.”

“Never argue with a lawyer,”
he sighs.

“Damn
straight.”

“I came to help out a friend, and
how could I pass up the opportunity to put Mr. Swoony Tuney in his
place? You have to admit, my ideas are always worth it.” His
smile is infectious, and I can’t even stay fake angry for long.

The late summer air has cooled,
allowing us to forget the heat of the day. Maybe it will return my
sanity. I pull away from Cash, and this time he lets me go. It was
just an act. Being this close to him is playing with my head. Not
that it wasn’t worth it to see him take Tanner down a notch or
two, but now I’m just too comfortable in his arms.

“So what’s next in your
post breakup strategy?” I might as well surrender to Cash’s
plans. They haven’t steered me wrong yet.

“All right. In times like these,
it’s best to do what we do best in the south: find a set of
stairs and watch the world go by.”

We wander up Peachtree Street until we
find a place to sit. Cash pulls the glasses out of his pockets and
takes a seat.

“So how long did you date
Tanner?”

“Whoa, heavy questions right out
of the gate. Please, I need more alcohol first.”

“That request I can accommodate.
I also find it’s best to just rip the band aid off.” He
pops the cork to the champagne.

I can’t help but smile.
Everything feels so easy with him. The last time things were this
easy the bottom fell out from under me. But if tonight proves
anything, Cash will be there to catch me.

“Too long,” I say, taking a
swig from the bottle he’s given me. I’m
glad that if we’re going to do this, I have alcohol close at
hand. “Six months, actually, and they were the best six months
of my life, until…”

“Until?”

Say it, Savannah. Just get it out
there. Telling it to a bartender is like going to confession: it’s
private and will help the sting of rejection.

“Until I found out he was
married.”

Cash lets out a long whistle. A group
of women look up from their table on the outdoor patio of a nearby
restaurant. No ladies, he is not whistling at you. Now turn around
and eat your dessert.

“What sort of ass does that to
someone like you?” he asks, an edge to his voice.

“Thanks for the vote of
confidence, but—”

He places a warm hand on my shoulder,
and I feel the heat everywhere. I’m afraid to meet his gaze,
afraid he’ll see the growing desire behind my blush. “Savannah,
this is not your fault.”

I shake my head bitterly. “I’m
the other woman. I don’t get to take the high moral ground. I
slept with, and fell in love with, a married man. We were both at
fault.” I take another swig of the champagne, but Cash pulls
the bottle gently away.

“How could you be? You didn’t
know. That’s why you keep punishing yourself with all these
‘dates,’ if that word can even be applied to the men
you’ve been throwing yourself at. Isn’t it?”

“No. I’m not punishing
myself—”

Now Cash takes a drink. A long one.
“Yeah, you are. You think that because you slept with a married
man you don’t deserve happiness. So you pick guys who will
never make you happy just to punish yourself. That’s Psychology
101, Savy.”

“Right. That’s really
insightful for someone who’s on a constant rotation of women.”

“It’s not always a bad
thing,” he says defensively. “But this isn’t about
me. Don’t force yourself into something you’re not ready
for. He broke your heart; don’t let him fuck with your mind,
too. Because you deserve better. So much better.”

I feel my eyes welling up and I have to
look away. I’m done crying over Tanner Jakes.

“But on the other hand,
sometimes you have to throw caution to the wind and just do something
that makes you happy. Or at the very least, something that makes you
come.” His eyes meet mine as his tongue peeks out and licks a
stray drop of sparkling wine off his lower lip. “I’m
always willing to help in that department.” He grabs the bottle
and pours a proper drink.

As if I could forget the offer he made
me. Cash oozes sex appeal. And Cassie’s been obsessed with it
ever since Cash practically announced it during that game night. She
doesn’t want me to end up as Cash’s flavor of the week,
because I deserve better. Can’t argue with her there, but I’m
definitely open to hearing Cash’s argument for a quick fuck. Or
two.

There’s a part of me that
desperately wants to find out what has all the women coming back for
more.

To be the one on the other end of that
devastating grin. That hot-as-hell kiss…

“Where’d
you get your PhD in psych?” I joke, getting back on
steady ground.

He shrugs. “School of Hard
Knocks, with a specialty in tending bar.”

“I thought you were a
mixologist,” I tease.

“That would be my
other
degree.”

“Whoa, multiple degrees. Are you
trying to tell me Cash Gardner has layers beyond the notches in his
bed post?”

“You are really hung up about how
many women I sleep with, aren’t you?”

“It’s not a secret.”

“No, but it always comes back to
that with you, doesn’t it?” He’s smiling, but I can
tell he’s only half kidding. Suddenly it hits me: Cash really
cares what I think.
About him
.

“Don’t you ever think about
those girls? What if they’re in relationships? What are you
breaking up? There’s no such thing as no strings attached,
regardless of what you might—”

“Clearly I’m gonna have to
level with you,” he says. “First off, if they sleep with
me, they know what they’re getting. I make it very clear up
front that I am in it for a good time. Second, if they are cheating,
then that’s on them. Am I supposed to have
them fill out some questionnaire to see their dating history?
Fuck that, Savy. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Love is messy,
it’s not orderly, and you may get burned but you keep going—you
appeal.”

“Appeal?”

“Isn’t that a lawyer term?
I’m trying to speak your language.”

That gets a laugh out of me. “Continue,
counselor.”

Cash takes a drink from his own
champagne flute before he goes on.

“Here’s the thing: you
don’t need to always have it go somewhere. Sometimes things are
just fun—you need to be reminded that you are worth it. You are
worth it, Savannah.”

“Sustained. I see your point. And
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to judge.”

“You don’t have to be
sorry, just have some fun. Don’t let Tanner Jakes continue to
ruin your life, or I’ll be forced to intervene on your pussy’s
behalf.”

I actually laugh this time. It’s
been so long since I laughed with someone. Since I’ve felt
remotely like the person I used to be, before Tanner Jakes walked
into my life. Cash is certainly not Mr. Right, but hell if I don’t
want him to be Mr. Right Now.

That’s it. Throwing caution to
the wind, I lean into him and kiss him right on the lips.

He tastes like champagne and mint. It’s
a quick kiss. I draw away much sooner than I would like, but it’s
just as good the second time around. It clouds my head, and for the
first time in forever I don’t care about my job or promotion.

Staring into my eyes, he tucks my hair
behind my ear and with both hands grasping my face kisses me harder,
rougher. It’s a wake-up call for my body. Every nerve’s
cell tunes in to see what his hands will do next. Logically, I should
stop and thank Cash for the rescue and tell him this can’t go
any further, but the pleasure pooling between my legs says keep this
fucking going. I thread my fingers into his hair and pull him closer.

Damn. Cash wasn’t lying. His
mouth
is
magic. Until he
pulls away. Again.

I let out a noise of frustration and he
chuckles.

“Easy there, sweetheart.”

“We were just getting to the good
part,” I grab his shirt again, but he backs off.

“Trust me, this isn’t the
good part. But I’m saving that until you’re sober.”

“I’m fine!” I
protest, my blood still singing from the kiss. I want him. Now.

Cash shakes his head. “Let me put
it like this.” He traces a slow, burning path up the side of
my bare arm, until I swear I’m panting. “If you fuck me
tonight, it’ll be about him. And when I take you –
because sweetheart, you best believe, I’m going to be the one
doing the taking – I’m going to be the only one on your
mind. Until you can’t manage a single thought, other than ‘yes,
Cash. More, Cash.’ Understand?”

Goddamn.

I nod, slowly, because I don’t
have a choice. Then Cash stands, and offers me his arm. Chivalrous,
like he just didn’t promise to fuck my brains out. “Now,
let’s get you home.”

Cash

I’m perfecting more drinks for
The Library, and I have volunteered Ryder to be my tester for the
day. It’s meant to be a flashy drink. It’s a mix of
absinthe and whiskey with a little mint to help blend it all
together. Ryder takes a huge hit from the glass. He
coughs, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Damn, that’s
good.”

“Librarians often are wild in the
sack, just like accountants.”

“And how would you know anything
about accountants?” Ryder asks.

“Did one several years back—she
definitely knew how to make it count.”

But the details of that encounter are
pushed aside by thoughts of what Savannah would look like while she
came. Her body tight, squeezing me, pulling me deep.

“And how was the date with
Savannah last night?”

“You know I don’t kiss and
tell,” I say before I can stop myself. I close my eyes; shit,
he found it out. Ryder’s smirking
with a knowing look.

“Welcome to the club.”

“I want nothing to do with that
club. Got that invitation a long time ago, and I sent back my RSVP
with a big fucking NO checked. Now tell me, what do you think of the
drink?” I ask, anything for a change in subject. The last thing
I need to do is open up more about Savannah. What happens between us
is our business.

“It was good, but does it taste
better than a lawyer?” Ryder shoots back, cocky bastard. When I
find out—and I intend to—I’ll let him know. Last
night was just a start. I’ve had a taste, and now I want the
whole package. Savannah at my mercy; me finding every way to make her
scream.