Rendezvous (4 page)

“Oh, God, Reed. I need…”
You. I’ve never stopped needing you.
Cassie stifled the words.
“I need more.”

“Yeah, I know.”

With a forceful shove, he sent her shirt up and over her head. Cassie freed her hands from the tangled fabric as Reed lowered his head to her breast. He pulled her bra cup down until her aching flesh spilled out. Then he ensnared her thrusting peak with his lips, swirled his tongue around it until it was wet and rock hard.

She was wet and rock hard in other places too, and Reed knew it unerringly. Still sucking her nipple, he worked her shorts open until he could slip his hand inside them, inside the silky fabric of her panties. Her clit was tight and swollen, and when he rubbed his finger over it, wet heat dripped from her pussy. Reed found the evidence of her arousal and gathered some on his finger, using it as lubrication so he could glide his touch more easily over her humming clit.

All this he did while treating her nipple to an erotic combination of tongue twirling and teeth grazing that stimulated Cassie to the point of near orgasm. She could come so easily from the ministrations of a man she’d been having a furious argument with only minutes ago. It had always been this way, although the sensations had never been as acute as they were right now.

In the back of her mind, Cassie knew the cycle of debating and sex wasn’t healthy, but she didn’t have the mental capacity to think it through. She reached for Reed’s shirt, began dragging it up his back. “Reed, I want you. So bad.
Now
.”

He released her nipple with a moist pop and levered himself up enough that he could dispense with the shirt. He reached for the waistband of his shorts and flicked the snap open. “Are you still on the pill?”

Cassie nodded, thankful now that she hadn’t stopped her prescription. There weren’t exactly any pharmacies nearby and she didn’t keep condoms on the yacht.

Reed echoed her thoughts. “Thank Christ,” he said, before shoving his shorts and briefs down his legs.

Cassie moaned as she gazed longingly at his shaft, so red and swollen with desire for her. Her hand moved of its own volition, slipping between her thighs. The mere sight of him hard and ready turned her on so much she had to cup her mound, caress it. “Hurry. I need you to fuck me now.”

“
Cass
,” he rasped as he fell on her and nudged her thighs open with his hips. He was there at her entrance, his thick head pushing into her. She was so drenched his impressive girth slid right inside, filling her channel with a glorious hot stretch she remembered so well.

Her nerve endings came alive, every one singing that the man she loved had returned.
You love him still. God help you.
Bitter tears burned the back of her eyes as Reed began to move, his body withdrawing and filling hers, loss and reunion, over and over.

“Oh, Christ,” Reed swore as his driving thrusts became more urgent. He took her hands, held them down on the bed. His gaze drilled into hers from above, astonishment and self-reproach mixing in the cobalt depths of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Cass. I won’t hold out.”

“I know. I’m close.” She lifted her hips, meeting his plunges in a way that made his pelvis rub against her clit. That and the sensation of him powering inside her, the intense emotion in his eyes, took her to the edge so swiftly she cried out in surprise when her inner walls convulsed on him.

As the waves of orgasm engulfed her, Reed cursed and hammered her in a series of rough, desperate motions that brought his own climax forth. He jerked inside her, filling her with liquid heat. Groans of awed satisfaction spilled out of him, twining in the air with hers.

He half fell on her, his arms shaking as he tried to hold his weight on his elbows. Cassie ran her hands through his hair with feverish fingers, her tactile memory throwing her back to all the times she’d held him inside her like this after the storm of their passion had passed. All the times she’d thought, “As long as I can have him like this, it’s enough,” only to be confronted with the reality that it wasn’t. She’d needed more from him than his body, his hunger. She’d longed to see inside his heart, to know it.

She still did.

Reed rolled onto his side, taking Cassie with him so she was nestled safely in his arms. He stroked her hair, kissed the top of her heard. Cassie closed her eyes on the ecstasy and agony of it, of having him so close yet knowing he wasn’t hers anymore.

Reed was the first to speak. “God, I needed you Cass. I know that was probably not how you pictured our first time together again, but I hope you’ll forgive me the inability to last longer. Hell, it’s been a year.”

“You mean…” She angled her head so she could see his face. Her question was a bid for reassurance she wished she didn’t need. “You haven’t been with anyone since me?”

“Of course I haven’t. I’m married.” He frowned. “Why? Have you been with someone else?”

Her laugh was utterly devoid of mirth. The idea of sleeping with a man other than Reed hadn’t crossed her mind once since the night she’d met him. She echoed his words and tone of voice. “Of course I haven’t. I’m married.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been separated, which was your idea.” His expression went from befuddled to stony. His lips thinned. “And you’re still on the pill. Damn it, Cassie. There’s someone else isn’t there?”

Cassie’s heart, which had been tenderised by the lovemaking—sex, screwing, whatever it was—turned into a lead weight that sank to the pit of her stomach. God, how could he know her so little? How could he be with her like he’d just been and not know he was the only man who’d ever inspired such ardour in her?

Cassie rolled away from him and sat up on the bed. Her shorts and panties were still wrapped around one ankle, her bra was askew. She slipped the bra straps up her arms while she searched for her shirt, finally locating it on the mattress behind her. When she twisted around and got onto her hands and knees to reach for it, Reed grasped her hips, holding her in place.

“Cassie.” His voice was a snarl, a warning. “If it’s true, I want you to tell me. I want to know who it was.”

Forgetting or a moment that there wasn’t anyone to even talk about, Cassie asked, “What possible difference could that make?”

“Then I’d know which bastard yacht bum to kill.”

“Reed, don’t. A man who carries a gun for a living should never joke about killing people.”

Cassie tried to crawl away from him but his grip was strong and insistent on her hips. Using his superior strength, he dragged her backward. Her knees scraped over the blue and yellow quilt and Cassie lost her balance. When she would have fallen face first into the mattress, Reed caught her up against him.

He bent over her, his naked body pressed to her back. His breath was hot against her neck, his voice low and dangerous. “Who says I’m joking? I hate the thought of another man touching you so much I could do it. Tell me the truth, has there been anyone else?”

Cassie was tempted to say yes, if only to prove the point that he had no right to act like he owned her. But the lethal thread in Reed’s voice warned her that she shouldn’t toy with him. Shudders racked her body, half-engendered by an instinctive fear of his threatening tone, and half by pure sexual delight at his possessiveness, his determination to claim her.
That’s sick, Cassie.
Maybe, but she couldn’t deny his He-man attitude was turning her on in the most primal way.

He traced a hand over her stomach, up her body until he caught her breast. Her kneeled position had caused her flesh to once again spill from her bra, and Reed squeezed it, flicking the tip of his finger over the turgid peak. “I asked you a question, Cassiopeia.”

Reed pinched her pebbled nipple and Cassie couldn’t stifle her keening moan, nor the admissions that tumbled out. “There’s been nobody. Not once in the four years since I met you have I ever considered letting another man to touch me. Not once have I wanted anyone but you, damn it.”

“Oh, Cass.” He dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. His hot breath rasping onto her back caused tingles to dance up and down her spine. When he continued to fondle her breast and play with her nipple, Cassie arched, filling his hand with her flesh. The action caused her butt to settle more closely to Reed’s body. His hardening cock nudged her backside.

“You’re mine,” he whispered with a stubborn resolve Cassie knew she couldn’t—wouldn’t—fight. His penis found its way to her entrance, the slickness of her arousal and the remnants of his earlier orgasm making it easy for his not-quite-hard dick to slide inside her.

Still playing with her breast, Reed stroked once, twice. Cassie felt his length growing bigger, stiffer, as the slippery friction of their joined bodies exerted its influence. Before long, he was fully erect and Cassie was hopelessly aroused. He continued to pump into her as he moved his hand from her breast to the juncture of her thighs. He found her clit and ran circles over it with his finger.

“You’re mine,” he repeated. Then he bit the sensitive skin where the curve of her shoulder met her neck and Cassie started coming, couldn’t stop the soaring rush of it. Her body went into spasms as his teeth sank into her flesh and his cock seemed to fill her all the way to the womb. She groaned and thrashed against Reed. His motion accelerated, became ragged and rough, until moments later he too succumbed to another furious orgasm.

Cassie collapsed on the bed, as boneless as a jellyfish. Her mind careened away from the notion of processing what had just occurred. She’d let her husband—whom she was supposed to be divorcing—possess her, fuck her, own her. She’d let him do it twice in the space of what—ten minutes? Two such quick, artless couplings should not have satisfied her, but she was drained, so spent she doubted she’d be able to lift a limb for the next ten hours.

Then Reed spoke and changed all that.

He placed a series of kisses along her backbone and said, “I still love you, Cass. I’ve never stopped.”

Cassie’s eyes burned.
I still love you too.
She kept the words locked in her heart, because no matter how she felt, how Reed felt, nothing had changed. Being with him now only reminded her that her heart was open all the way and Reed’s was only partially available. As long as he kept part of himself separate, shut away, she would always feel as though she was in love with a shadow.

She rolled away from him. She got up, found her shorts and pulled them on. Moving like an automaton, she located her shirt too, and this time Reed didn’t stop her as she grabbed it and dragged it over her head. He watched her in silence, his eyes imploring her for something she couldn’t give him, not if she wanted to keep herself intact.

“Damn you, Reed,” she said at last, her voice carrying the ring of defeat. “Why did you even come here?”

She left the cabin without waiting for an answer.

*****

Reed spent the next two days with a weight like a bowling ball pressed against his chest. Cassie had returned to treating him like a tourist, a stranger, and nothing he said or did could dent her professional veneer.

He even had her teaching him how to sail the damn boat. He learned about navigation and depth sounders. He even found out what a cleat was for. He realized how much knowledge and skill it took to sail
The Rendezvous
and to keep it in good condition year round. The athleticism, knowledge and dedication his wife possessed amazed him, but if he ever tried to tell her so, if he ever tried to touch her or so much as brush at the silky strands of her hair, she shut down on him.

It was his own fault. That night in the cabin hadn’t gone the way he’d intended. The plan had been to make love to Cassie all night, to remind her of how good they were together. Instead, the second he’d gotten his hands on her he’d lost control. He’d devolved into Neanderthal man, focused only on taking, on claiming. He hadn’t made love to Cassie the way she deserved to be made love to, he hadn’t shown her with his body how he felt. All he’d done was screw her—right after she’d tried to tell him all they had was sex. Without meaning to, he’d proven her point.

They sailed around pristine tropical islands, walked on fine white sand and snorkelled over reefs alive with brightly patterned fish. There was so much colour it seemed to take Reed’s eyes days to adjust to the vibrancy all around him. He could see why people came from around the world to see this area. He could understand why Cassie had sought solace here when things had gone pear shaped in Sydney.

By the time the fifth night of the charter cruise came around, Reed was growing desperate. It was the last night of the cruise—his last night with Cassie if he couldn’t do something to fix what he’d wrecked. There was no escaping the truth that
he’d
wrecked everything, both now on the boat and before in Sydney. He should have talked to Cassie like she’d asked time and time again. He should have been open with her about what he was going through even if it scared him, instead of using their dynamic sexual connection to avoid their issues.

Was it too late?

“We’ll anchor here for the night,” Cassie said as she furled the sails after bringing the yacht to a standstill—as closely as that applied to the rolling motion that was always underfoot. Despite the way it had affected him on his first two days out, the constant rocking sensation had become almost soothing to Reed. The fresh, salted air cleared his head and made him acutely aware he was breathing real oxygen, not remnant carbon-monoxide fumes. He’d been a city boy all his life and had never considered leaving Sydney. Now, he could appreciate why Cassie loved being out here so much.

Why she’d chosen it over him.

The sun was setting over the mainland, casting dark-amber light on the lush green foliage of an island to the east. A thin stretch of sand dotted by palm trees separated the island’s vegetation from the sapphire-blue water. The absolute tranquillity was broken only by the gentle lapping of the Whitsunday waters against the yacht’s hull.

How could he ever compete with all this?
You’re going to lose her, Reed.
Before his throat could close over, Reed asked, “What is this place?”