Down to You (21 page)

He climbs onto the four-wheeler and sets me
in his lap. He looks into my eyes for several intense seconds,
watching me like I’m all he sees. And he’s all I see. For this
moment, it seems we are completely alone in the world, each wholly
consumed by the other. Nothing else exists.

It scares me that I like it that way. Just
him and me. Nobody else.

Cupping my face, Cash kisses me. It’s not an
overtly ravenous kiss, but there’s something just beneath the
surface that scorches my insides. It’s as though he’s trying to
absorb something from my soul, like he’s taking more than just the
physical.

With practiced hands, he unbuttons my shorts
and rubs his palm across my naked belly. Chills spread down my legs
and heat pools in my core. A volcano of hot lava seems always to be
boiling just under my skin whenever Cash is around.

Winding an arm around me, Cash lifts me and
pushes my shorts and my panties down my legs then tucks them behind
the seat. Still, he hasn’t spoken. And still, there is that implied
danger in being with him, in letting him take me where he wants to
go.

But I go. I have to. I’m helpless against it.
At least for today. Maybe not tomorrow. But today, I go.

Never taking his eyes off mine, Cash scoots
back a little and unzips his pants. I can’t help but look down and
revel in the absolute perfection of him.

With confident fingers, I reach out and grip
his thick shaft, stroking the hard satin length. When I hear him
groan, I see one glistening drop of liquid appear on the head.
Sliding back on the seat, I bend forward and touch my tongue to the
tip, licking the drop. Then licking him again.

I close my lips around him and feel Cash’s
fingers fist in my hair. I can’t fit much of him into my mouth, so
I lick and suck my way up and down the sides, cupping his balls and
teasing them with my lips and tongue.

Then Cash is pulling me up, kissing me.
Thrusting his tongue into my mouth, tasting himself in my saliva.
Roughly, he grabs my hips and lifts until I’m straddling him. Then,
in one sharp movement, he flexes his hips and pulls me down onto
him, impaling me.

I can’t stop the cry of pleasure that escapes
my lips. It feels as though it’s torn from somewhere deep. Against
my will.

I ride Cash in the bright sunlight, both of
us gasping in the fresh air. I moan when he nibbles my ear. I
whimper when he lifts my shirt and bites my nipple through my bra.
He tells me how it feels to be inside me. He whispers things he
dreams of doing to me.

I don’t need Cash to tell me I’m all he’s
thinking of, that I’m all that’s on his mind. I can see it in his
face, feel it in his kiss. For now, he’s all mine. And I’m all
his.

Absorbed by his passion, by his eyes, by his
touch, I lose my grasp on reality when my body succumbs to the
throes of my orgasm. The only thing I’m aware of is Cash’s breath
in my ear and the feel of him coming in time with me. With each
pulse, I feel heat shooting into me, intensifying my own
pleasure.

I’m breathless, my arms and legs wrapped
tight around Cash. He’s panting against the skin of my throat, his
hands splayed over my back, hugging me to him.

I could stay this way forever.

If only Cash was the forever type.

His arms tighten around me as if he knows
what I’m thinking. I sigh into his neck and hope that he
doesn’t.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT- Cash

The drive from Salt Springs to Atlanta Sunday
night isn’t exactly a luxurious one. I mean, we’re on the back of a
motorcycle. But still, Olivia seems comfortable. I feel her rest
her cheek against my back. Her thighs are pressed tight against
mine and she’s snuggled up like she’s content.

Only I get the feeling she’s not. She’s stuck
on something in her head again and I don’t know what to do about
it.

We had sex a dozen times over the weekend and
all I can think about is the next time, the next thing I want to do
with her, for her, to her. I can’t seem to get enough of her.

But it bugs the shit out of me that each time
feels like the last time with her. Like she’s holding something
back. I can feel it. I can see it in her eyes sometimes when she’s
taken off guard. When she doesn’t have enough time to hide it
behind a smile. Something’s bothering her. I think I know what it
is. But I’m just not sure I can fix it, that I’m
capable
of
fixing it.

When I pull up in front of her place, I push
the bike onto the kickstand, but I don’t cut the engine. Something
tells me she’s not going to invite me in.

And she doesn’t.

“I can’t thank you enough for everything
you’ve done this weekend.”

She’s
thanking
me?

I smile, my normal carefree smile. “Oh
believe me, it was my pleasure.”

She smiles, too, but it’s tinged with
sadness. And maybe inevitability. I think, in her mind, we were
over before we even got started. The question is whether or not I
can change her mind. And how.

Even
I
notice the uncomfortable
silence and I
never
notice them. Very little bothers me. But
this does.

I need time to think. But I need to make sure
she
doesn’t.
That’s when I get into trouble. At least in her
head, I do.

“So, you said you could look over some stuff
at the club this week, not on your regular shifts. How about
tomorrow evening? You don’t have to stay late.”

I can tell I’ve thwarted her. She was
probably already thinking of ways she could avoid me. But that’s
not going to happen. I’ll get past whatever is bothering her. I
won’t give her a choice in the matter.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And by then you’ll
have your car back. I’ll bring it by early in the morning.”

Watching her expression is like watching a
pile-on with a bunch of kids. And she’s the person on the bottom,
about to run out of air. I know I should feel guilty for making her
feel that way, but I don’t. Not really. I know she’d get some crazy
idea in her head that I’m bad for her. And that’s just not true. In
fact, the longer I know her, the more time I spend with her, the
more I believe I’m exactly what she needs in her life. She just
doesn’t know it yet. But she will. I’ll have to tell her the truth
eventually. But I’ll wait as long as I can. It could be a disaster
otherwise.

Finally she nods. “Okay. Sounds good. And
thank you. Again. Cash, I don’t know—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Maybe now you’ll
see I’m not all bad.”

I know she’s getting ready to respond to
that, so I kiss her partially open mouth, slip on my helmet and
take off down the road.

The best thing I can do is keep that girl’s
mind—and her mouth—busy.

This ought to be fun.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE- Olivia

What the hell am I gonna do?

I collapse onto my bed, face down. I realize
I’m in serious trouble. Cash is not the kind of guy I can let
myself fall for.

I don’t think I really thought I’d get this
involved with him. Not really. I mean, he’s sexy and flirty and fun
and flattering, but I never imagined that if we managed to actually
have sex it would turn so quickly into…this. Whatever “this”
is.

It was a huge mistake to spend so much time
with him at home. With my father. At the one place on earth that’s
like my sanctuary. Putting him there, in that context, and him
being so sweet and fitting in so perfectly, just made me fall into
all sorts of traps and clichés.

Dammit.

As if my mother has taken over a large
portion of my brain, I find myself ticking off all the negatives of
Cash and all the positives of Nash, pitting them against each other
in a death match.

I wish I could shut out her voice in my head,
telling me it will never work with Cash, that he’s not what I need.
I can practically hear her gushing about how perfect Nash is.

And she’s right.

The fact that he wants me gives me hope. The
fact that he’s taken is quickly being outweighed by the fact that
he fights it, by the fact that he’s trying to do the right thing by
Marissa. Even if she is a cold, nasty, snake of a girl.

I know I’m not thinking clearly. I’m in Def
Con Five mode, brought on by sheer panic over my feelings for Cash.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t pull out of the tail spin. My
mother’s voice is too strong, her claws too deep. And seeing Gabe
over the weekend isn’t helping.

It’s the perfect anti-Cash storm. And it’s
wreaking havoc.

Before I can even think twice, I’m dialing
Nash’s number. Maybe I can put his side of things to rest once and
for all. One way or the other. Either there’s a chance or there’s
not, but I can’t keep holding him up as the other viable option if
he isn’t.

At first, I’m a little relieved when he
doesn’t answer. But then, when he finally does, I’m relieved to
hear his voice.

“Nash, it’s Olivia. I’m sorry to bother you
so late. Were you busy?”

“Uh, no. I’m just getting in. Is everything
all right?”

Where do I begin? I don’t even know what to
say now that I’ve got him.

“Yes, everything’s fine.” I pause to collect
my scattered thoughts. “Actually, no it’s not. Is there any way you
could come over?”

“Over there? Tonight?”

Something in his voice—some note of
hesitation—nearly shakes me out of my frenzy. Nearly, but not
quite. I ignore it and move on.

“Yes. Tonight. As soon as you can.”

“What’s the matter, Olivia? You’re starting
to scare me. Has something happened? Did my brother do something to
you?”

I hear an edge to his voice and I’m confused
by it. It takes me a full three or four seconds to figure out what
he’s getting at. “What? Cash? No. Oh, God, no! It’s nothing like
that at all.”

Why would he even ask that? Does he really
feel that way about his own flesh and blood?

I hear him exhale. “Okay, good. I’ll be there
in about twenty minutes.”

“Great. Thanks. See you then.”

I wait. And, as I wait, I pace. And
not-so-patiently, I might add. I’m teetering between two horrible
options—being bold with Nash or moving to Siberia.

By the time I hear the doorbell, Siberia is
looking pretty dang good.

I fling open the door, completely unprepared
for Nash like this. He must’ve been working late. He’s wearing a
black suit that fits him to perfection. His bright red tie is askew
and his hair is mussed, making him look even more like Cash. He’s
like dream Cash. Cash with a little more Nash.

Why can’t they both be a little more like
each other?

I answer that thought.

Because then you’d want them both. Just like
you do now. Only without any reasons to stay away.

Shaking my head, I step back to allow him to
pass. He walks lazily to the couch and flops down, like he’s tired.
I perch on the other end of the sofa, facing him.

“Rough day?”

He wags his head back and forth. “Meh, some
parts.”

I swallow hard. “I’m sorry to call so
late.”

“It’s not a problem. I was still up. Besides,
I told you to call if you needed anything.”

I stare at him, at the face that seems so
familiar to me now. It feels odd for it to be attached to Nash’s
personality, though. To not feel the intense heat of Cash emanating
from behind those sparkling midnight eyes.

He raises his eyebrows in question when I
don’t speak. “So, what’s up?”

I might never know what came over me. One
second I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing. The next I’m blurting
out embarrassing-isms.

“Nash, do you want me?”

If I weren’t so shocked at what just came out
of my mouth, I’d probably think his expression was comical. As it
is, I’m dying a little on the inside.

“What?”

I scoot closer to him, laying my hand on his
arm for emphasis. “Do you want me?”

“I think we’ve already established the answer
to that. What’s this about, Olivia?”

I’m floundering. I’ll admit it. And my go-to
plan was never even a forethought, much less a plan. So, I wing it.
Which, in this case, translates to practically assaulting Nash.

Leaning forward, I press my lips to his. I
don’t know who is the more shocked of us, Nash or me. At first, his
lips are frozen beneath mine. If possible, I think my humiliation
rises. But then, he jerks back like he’s been burned.

Nash grabs me by the upper arms, his fingers
digging into the tender flesh, and he looks me square in the eye.
For a few seconds, I could swear I see hurt and anger. However,
that makes no sense. But then, when I blink, it’s gone, making me
wonder if I’d imagined it altogether.

His lips curve into a cruel twist. “So this
is how it is.” he says enigmatically. I try to pull out of his
grasp; his fingers are really starting to hurt. But he won’t let
go. Pulling me into his lap, he roughly cups my face. “Is this what
you want?”

Before I can answer, his lips are crushing
mine. They’re not gentle. They’re not passionate. They’re not even
sexual. They’re punishing and angry and…cold.

I’m cringing away from him when his tongue
forces its way past my lips. His mouth is mashed so tightly to
mine, for a second I think I taste blood. Then the flavor is
mingled with something salty. It’s then I realize I’m crying.

Nash pulls away from me, opening his mouth as
if to curse me, but he stops in shock. I guess he sees that I’m
crying and the Nash I thought I knew takes over.

His face softens and, tenderly, he raises one
hand and wipes the tears from my left cheek. I feel my chin
tremble. I will it to stay still, but the damn thing completely
ignores me.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispers, scattering
tiny butterfly kisses all over my lips and cheeks. “I’m so sorry,
baby.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have
done that. I know you’re with Marissa. I don’t know what came over
me.”