Resisting Destiny: Sullivan Brother's Book 3 - Cayson's Story (Resisting Love - Sullivan Brothers) (9 page)

He
let out a frustrated breath. He reached for his cell phone, intending to call Destiny to let her know he’d be late. His frustration mounted when he realized his battery was dead. 
Fuck!

He
spotted the hirsute arm of a burly trucker hanging out the open window of an eighteen-wheeler idling to the left of him.  Cayson’s father had hauled lumber for a few years when he was younger. He knew truckers got all their news from a CB radio system.  He rolled down his window and called out to the guy. “Hey buddy. What’s going on?” Cayson asked.

“Accident up ahead,” the man replied
through tobacco-stained teeth. “Radio says it’s a ten-car pile-up. Hope you’re not in a rush, ‘cause we’re all in for a long wait.”

Chapter 8

Destiny
twirled in front of the full-length mirror in her room. Dressed in a black cocktail dress with a slit up one side, she looked ready for a night on the town. And she was. The dress caressed her curves in all the right places. She was glad she’d taken Phaedra’s advice and purchased it the day they’d gone shopping.
‘Every woman needs a little black dress,’
Phaedra had said. The only thing they’d disagreed on was the shoes. Destiny had to have what Phaedra called hooker heels–five inch high platforms. They made her feel so womanly. And God knows she needed all the feminine weapons at her disposal to handle Cayson.

She’d pulled on a pair of sheer black stockings and
then twisted her long braids into a bun. Her only accessory was the gold locket her mother had given her when she died. She gazed at the image of the pretty lady with cocoa brown skin. “I wish you could see me now, Mama.”

She’d never dressed up solely for a man. She frowned at her reflection.

Why am I dressing up for him? It’s just dinner. Calm down, girl!

She looked at the digital clock on the night stand. 
Eight p.m. Still no sign of Cayson.  She dialed his number from her cell phone. Her call went straight to voicemail. Maybe he was in a meeting and couldn’t be bothered. Or more likely, didn’t want to be bothered. 

She wandered down the hall to his bedroom.  She hadn’t got to look around much yesterday. She was too busy closing her eyes and enjoying Cayson’s kiss. She stepped into his walk-in closet.
On the left side, his suits were lined up so neat the racks looked like something in a retail store. Her hands caressed the expensive fabrics. The man did like nice things. On the right side, an army of multi-colored dress shirts were starched and ready for battle in the courtroom.  Destiny loved the way they seemed custom-made to Cayson’s well-toned physique. Near the back of the closet, casual shirts, slacks, and a few pairs of jeans hung. All neatly pressed, of course. On one shelf of the closet, sat a tiny cherry wood chest.  Destiny opened the lid to find an assortment of watches and cufflinks, each resting in its own square compartment.  Damn! He was too organized.

She
walked downstairs to the living room and rifled through Cayson’s music collection.  Jazz. Pop. R&B. Rock. Lawyer-man had quite a collection of tunes. She turned on the Bose system and selected a playlist from his iPod. The Best of Michael Jackson. Yeah, everybody liked Mike. She snapped her fingers rhythmically as
You Rock My World
blasted through the room. She did a few dance moves and pretended to be on the dance floor of a club.

Five songs later (wh
en she got tired of shaking her booty), she plopped on the couch. She glanced at her watch. Nine p.m. Where was Cayson? She dialed his cell phone again, and once more, her call was sent to voicemail. Disappointment washed over her in waves.  She’d dressed up for nothing. And skipped dinner anticipating he’d be home early. Her stomach growled, chastising her for waiting so long. She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a jar of Nutella from the pantry. The last time she ate was at lunch. She dug a spoon deep into the creamy mixture, and then pulled it out and licked it clean.

Mmm. Good stuff.  Nutella never failed her–unlike some folks.

She walked back into the living room and reclined on the sofa, careful not to puncture the leather with her heels.
Human Nature
played softly on the Bose. Yeah, tell me about human nature. Cayson Sullivan’s nature.

I shoulda known he wouldn’t be here. I have the worst luck with men.

********

Hot. So hot.  L
ike liquid heat pulsating through her veins. Strong fingers stroked her thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Oh, but it was a delicious feeling. She arched her back and spread her legs, pushing herself closer to the source of her gratification. As the fingers continued to caress her, inching higher and higher toward the crotch of her panties, she purred with pleasure.

“
Hello beautiful. Sorry I’m late.”

Destiny’s eyes flickered open and she stared into a pair of chestnut eyes filled with
longing. Up until that point, she’d thought she’d been having an erotic fantasy. The man in front of her proved it was no dream, but reality.

She must have fallen asleep waiting for him.  She pouted. “A
pology not accepted.”

“I got stuck in tra
ffic,” he explained.  “Had I known you’d be wearing this outfit, I’d have chartered a helicopter to get here.”

She could scarcely think with him fondling her, but she wasn’t letting him off the hook that easy.
“That’s not funny.”

“
I was serious. Please let me make it up to you.”

“
What if I say no?” She had no intentions of saying no. Her coochie was throbbing mercilessly.

“
I won’t listen,” he vowed.  “Besides, I can’t let these thigh-highs go to waste”.

Cayson’s hands trailed a path up her thighs, caressing the lacy edge of her
stockings.  He nibbled on her bottom lip. She closed her eyes again, enjoying the feeling.  How did he manage to make her insides turn to jelly?  She was supposed to be mad at him, but she pushed her irritation aside as he swooped in and captured her mouth with his. His tongue felt so right wrestling with hers.  At that moment she knew–he was worth the wait.  She gave in, submitting to his erotic touch.

He reached between her legs and stroked her pussy through the thin material of her panties.
Sparks of heat erupted inside her like dry kindling.  She moaned into his mouth.  His fingers were like magic, deftly finding their way beneath the edge of her panties and pushing deep inside the folds of sensitive flesh. She would have cried out from sheer pleasure if it hadn’t been for his tongue greedily sucking hers.

He created a sensuous
rhythm, sliding a long finger in and out of the silky wetness between her legs. Destiny grinded her pelvis against his hand. Cayson was all-consuming with his tongue in her mouth and his fingers deep inside her.  When he withdrew his hand and licked the sticky mess from his fingers, the erotic gesture made her heart race.

“Is this all for me?” he coaxed.  “You’re so wet, baby.”

He claimed her lips again, and she tasted herself on his tongue. The scandalous act only increased her desire for him.  His fingers thrust inside her pussy.  He was relentless in his stroke. He pushed deeper. Faster. Harder. She held on for the ride. Every one of her senses was on alert. Her heart pounded. Her temperature soared. A river of hot lava flowed through her. Any minute, she was gonna burst into a full-blown blaze.

Driving her crazy with his touch.
Felt consumed with his tongue in her mouth and his fingers deep inside her.

“
Is this what you wanted?” Cayson panted against her ear. “Is this what you waited for?”

“
Yes!”

“Say you forgive me,” he ordered as he fingered her with frenzied movements.

In that moment, she knew she would forgive him anything. As long as he didn’t stop his erotic torture. “I forgive you.”

The pad of his thumb slid across her clitoris. It was her undoing. A w
hite hot heat burst through her as he simultaneously rubbed the sensitive flesh and finger-fucked her. Her body jerked. Then, spasms of ecstasy flooded through her.  “Cayson!” she screamed.

His free hand snaked around her back and held her tight against him. He cradled her as she soared and then drifted back down from her
hedonistic cloud. The pulsating between her legs slowed to a steady ebb. Cayson placed tender kisses on the tip of her nose.

“That was incredible,” she gushed.

The desire in his eyes had not abated.  “Woman, I’m just getting started.”

She watched as he
kneeled above her and loosened his belt. Her dress had risen above her hips. Her panties were twisted. She was sure she was a mess. But she couldn’t take her eyes from the tent pole in his pants, straining to be free. This was it. He was going to fuck her. Was she ready? Could she handle him? Would he be gentle? Would she satisfy him? She held her breath, anticipating the pleasurable pain she would soon feel.

The shrill ringing of the tele
phone in the study made her jump. Even if she could ignore it, she couldn’t ignore the panicked voice of Cayson’s mom when the answering machine picked up. “Honey, are you okay?” Irene asked.  “I tried calling your cell phone but I kept getting your voicemail. And there was no answer at your office, of course. Call me. I just want to make sure my little boy is okay.”

Lit
tle boy? Hardly!

“I’m coming over there if I don’t hear from you in a few minutes
,” Irene threatened. “Cayson?  Cayson, are you there?”

Irene
had definitely killed the mood.

“Shit!”
Cayson muttered as he trotted toward the phone. His unfastened belt buckle flapped as he moved. Frigid air replaced the spot where his lips used to be. “Fuck!” Destiny heard him curse again as he banged his knee into the desk diving for the phone.  “Hello, Ma.  Yeah, you kinda caught me in the middle of something.  What’s up?”

As Destiny listened to Cayson’s side of the conversation, she willed the inferno between her legs to cool. Maybe it was a good thing Irene
had interrupted them. Now, she had a chance to clear her head. She’d come so close to sleeping with Cayson. She promised herself she wouldn’t get involved with him, but the man was so damn hard to resist! Especially when his lips and hands were doing things that made her body hum. To hell with being an attorney. He should be a master puppeteer. He sure knew how to pull her strings.

On wobbly legs, she stood and pulled her dress down. She
wanted more than thick fingers inside her. She wanted more than the taste of his tongue. Her body hummed for his touch. He was the only man who had brought her to such heights, and made her scream his name. The experience was all-consuming. Yet, she knew it was only the beginning of what he had in store for her. She wanted him so bad, but if she had sex with him then he would know her secret. She would be changed forever. No, she had to hold back. She had to be more to Cayson Sullivan than a piece of ass.

She made her way back upstairs to her room. She didn’t trust herself to be around him right now. She locked the door and slipped under the covers. If he knocked, she would pretend to be asleep. But she knew there was no way in hell she’
d be able to sleep tonight.

********

Over the next week, Destiny maintained her distance from Cayson. Both at home and at
the office, she was cool as a winter day toward him. He couldn’t figure out the reason for her mood swing. At first, he assumed she wasn’t attracted to him. But the night he came home to find her asleep on the sofa proved him wrong. It was though he’d unleased a sensual tsunami. The way her body responded to him was something a woman couldn’t fake. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Then, his mother had called, and doused his ardor with verbal ice water. Talk about bad timing.

Destiny
had retreated to her room and his knocks on her door went unanswered. The only thing he could figure was she’d changed her mind. Women could be fickle like that–though it rarely happened with him. In frustration, he’d gone back to his bedroom to take a cold shower.  Not even the icy needles of water pelting his flesh could soothe his raging libido.  He finally ended up masturbating while he thought of her lush breasts filling his mouth.

Now, he sat in his office. His dick was r
ock-hard just thinking about the incident. Shit, if he didn’t get laid soon, he would self-combust. But he didn’t want just any chick. He wanted Destiny Jackson.

A tap on his door broke him from his
lascivious reverie.  Hoping it was Destiny, he looked up with a ready smile. His joy was replaced with disappointment when he saw Phaedra standing there. He beckoned her in. 

“Hey, you asked me to keep you posted on the status of Destiny’s apartment.  Her name got pushed back a little on the waiting list.  Her apartment was offered to a
woman and her kids who were being abused by her husband. Victims of domestic abuse take priority.”

He nodded.
“Understandable.”

She held a stack of papers, which she shifted to her other hands. “I
hope you’re not mad.”

“
Why would I be mad?”

“
Uh, because you told me in no uncertain terms to find her a place ASAP.”

“
Yeah, well I said I understand. Things happen.”

“
Things happen?” She looked over her shoulder and then lowered her voice in a conspirator whisper. “Did you smoke something before coming in this morning?”

Despite his dull mood, he laughed.  “No.
Why? Are you offering?”

“Of course not!” Her face contorted like she’d just sucked on a sour pickle. “I’m shocked is all. You never
take things so calmly when they don’t go right.”