Suited (St. Martin Family Saga) (4 page)

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged. “Rock with me.”

As his touch became more demanding, as he demanded more from her, Isa arched her back into him. She reached her hand to his head and fisted his hair. With the crease of her ass cradling his dick, she rode him as she convulsed on his hand.

“God, your luscious body and your cries haunt my dreams.” Cash pushed her upper body down into the bed to expose her glistening channel to his gaze. She was beautiful. So ripe. So wet. He drew his tip through her wetness and slowly flexed all the way into her. He drove into her repeatedly, increasing the intensity with each plunge. Isa met him thrust for thrust, pistoning against him. When she went over the edge, she carried him with her, clutching him deep inside her core and draining the sperm from his penis with each contraction.

She collapsed on her stomach, and Cash followed her down to the bed, resting his weight on his side. They recovered together, pulses eventually slowing, harsh breaths changing into sighs.

Cash kissed Isa’s shoulder and said, “God, I’ve missed you. Has it really been eight years?”

Her answer was a weak fist to his shoulder.

He groaned. And when he pulled out of her body, his sperm spilled out and down her cleft. He liked seeing her marked with his seed. He knew that his reaction was animalistic, maybe primitive, but he couldn’t help it; Isa had always driven him wild. He
felt
like an animal with her, all territorial and possessive. Always had. And now the effect seemed magnified tenfold.

While Isa recovered, Cash went to the dining room and loaded the food on a tray. As he walked the meal to the bedroom he thought it might be fun if he rendered Isa’s arms immobile so he could feed her by hand. Unfortunately, she was asleep. She looked so peaceful, Cash decided not to wake her despite the fact she was nude and the way that she was positioned on her stomach gave him a bone-aching view of the outer folds of her pussy peeking out from between her thighs.

By morning he’d had her four times, three in the darkness and once in the early morning light. They’d drifted to each other in their sleep, both initiating sex. It had always been that way with them. He let her sleep and walked to the kitchen to fix them some breakfast. He fried pan sausage, cut up oranges, scrambled eggs, and toasted bread. As he was preparing coffee, he heard the front door open.

Camp was home.

Cash was clad in only his boxer shorts as he loaded the coffee filter into the basket. With his peripheral vision he watched Camp snag a sausage patty that was draining on a paper towel.

Cash punched him in the meaty part of the arm with his closed fist.

“Fuck, what the hell was that for?” Camp rubbed out the sting with his hand.

“You know what that was for, clown dick.”

Camp shrugged. “What’s your problem? I saw Isa’s car outside, so she stayed the night. You reconsummated your relationship, I take it.”

“I prefer knowing my hand ahead of time so I can control the outcomes. You know that.”

“Yeah, well, I thought it might be good for you to shut off that noggin’ of yours and just follow your gut. Besides, I’m the one who has been here for her the past eight years since you left. I know her well, hire her for most of our jobs. I’ve been looking after her.” He pushed a stiff finger into Cash’s chest. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

Camp walked to the table. “After three years of working with us, she’s become part of our family. She’s my friend, and I was worried about her.”

Cash crossed his arms and watched, wondering where Camp was going with his summary.

“You should know she hasn’t been with anyone since you left, despite my efforts in hooking her up. That’s like eight years.”

Cash was speechless. Isa, as beautiful and smart as she was, hadn’t been with anyone since he left? She’d been an innocent when they’d met. And that meant she’d only ever been his. His heart swelled with love and desire for her. Then he felt guilt press into him like a weighted blanket. She’d waited for him for eight years. Waited almost a decade for him to get his shit straight. Had she hoped he would somehow get back to her? God, when she’d promised she’d love him forever, she’d meant it.

And what did Camp just say? That he tried to hook her up?

“Who did you hook her up with?”

“Some buddies of mine.”

Cash’s lips tightened. He had no right to be jealous, but he was out of control. “Buddies fucking plural?”

Camp laughed.

“It amounted to her being here to watch the game and then they’d show up, flirt with her, hit on her. She turned them all down. Every single one. I finally asked her why, and she told me she wasn’t ready. To tell you the truth, I wanted her to move on, to forget about you and find someone who would appreciate her, but it was clear that was never going to happen. The other day, after you mentioned staying in Whiskey Cove for a while and I could see that you had seriously changed, I thought”—he shrugged and opened his hands—“I thought I might as well give you guys a shot.”

Cash sat at the table and focused on Camp’s words. “So if I’d simply left, you wouldn’t have told me any of this? I’d have been blind and stupid about Isa twice.” He scratched at his jaw. “I’d have walked away, screwing my changes, never knowing she was here, never knowing she could be mine, never knowing…”

He pounded the table. “Damn you, you son of a bitch.”

Camp took the chair across from him. “But I did tell you. And you need to make a commitment to her, do right by her this time. She loves you and I know you love her.”

Cash rubbed the heels of his hands into his stinging eyes. “I realize that and I’m going to. I’m going to treat her as she deserves.”

Isa walked into the kitchen clad only in Cash’s black Oxford shirt. She yawned, walked to Cash, and sat in his lap. Leaning her head on his chest, she looked to Camp and said, “Welcome back.”

After the three of them enjoyed the breakfast Cash had made, Isa left, telling them she’d see them at the work site.

Cash would’ve asked her to stay, to shower with him, but he understood her need for space.

The morning rushed by, and at lunchtime Camp brought in chopped barbecue and fixin’s. The three of them ate together in the portable building that housed the temporary office. As Isa was peering through the newspaper, she excitedly announced, “Hey, Bernard Larue is playing at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.” She looked at Cash. “Remember when he came to the college? God, he was good.”

Cash did remember. They’d purchased his CD of love songs and gone home to dance and make love long into the night. Cash was smiling at Isa when he said, “Let’s get tickets and go.”

“That would be the best!” Isa leaned forward, her huge brown eyes full of excitement. She scanned the paper and a downhearted sigh escaped her lips. “Well, wouldn’t you know? It’s sold out. I can’t believe that. It’s still eight weeks away, yet there are no tickets available.”

The door scraped open, and a tall guy bent himself in half to get inside the entrance. His eyes homed in on Isa immediately.

“Isa, Camp.” He nodded when he made eye contact with Cash. “You must be Cash.”

Isa’s face lit up, and Cash hated that another man could light her up that way.

“Hey, Grandy.”

He leaned in and hugged her. Cash hated Grandy already.

“Is my gravel here?”

“Guys are just unloading it now.”

She smiled up at him as he looked down her blouse. He’d be a fool not to take advantage of that height. He was still touching her, and Cash was barely holding it together as his fists clenched under the table.

“Bernard Larue?” Grandy pointed to the paper in Isa’s hands. “I’ve got tickets to that gig. I’d love to take you.”

That was it. Cash stood and walked over to put his arm around Isa. Grandy was smart and retreated when he did.

“Actually, Gandy, we’ve already made plans to go.”

He arched a brow at Cash. “It’s Grandy.”

Isa turned to Cash with a wrinkled nose. “We have tickets?”

He flashed Isa his most alluring smile. “Oh yes.”

Cash would get his hands on tickets if it killed him. He was well connected as a result of his time in Vegas and knew several entertainment managers.

He wouldn’t let a guy named
Grandy
make time with Isa. Not today. Not ever.

5

C
ash and Isa
rekindled their relationship in every way, the weeks passing quickly as they stepped right into the friendship and easy intimacy they’d known in college. Cash doted on Isa, and she let him.

He drove into the office, smiling, thinking that he was about to see her and dote on her some more.

He loved buying her gifts and though today’s gift was different from what he’d been giving her lately, she’d go nuts for it. He’d been the one going nuts over the other gifts, so it was time to shake things up.

When he got stopped at a light, he pictured one of his favorite gifts.

He’d been treating her to pretty and expensive French lingerie and panty-things he didn’t know the names of, and she made a huge production of strutting around and modeling them every time he gifted her with something new, so there had been many such gifts.

One pair of panties was particularly successful at having him cream his shorts. Isa called them tanga panties. They were black lace. And the lace hugged the lower curve of her butt cheeks, but it was like someone had cut away most of the material and fastened straps to the lace. The straps crisscrossed over her ass, leaving most of it exposed to his gaze, including the most important part, her anal bud. A satin tie bound everything together. She wore matching lace-top thigh highs with it.

When she wanted to be especially alluring, she’d ask if she should wear the black scrap under her clothes. When she wanted him instantly hard and wild, she wouldn’t ask. She’d just flash him an ass cheek cradled in black lace and race him to the bedroom.

They didn’t always make it.

He was startled when a horn sounded behind him. He grinned, waved at the other driver, and drove on.

Mooning over Isa at a traffic light? He had it bad.

But everything about her was so good.

He went back to images of her in her lingerie.

Her ass was one of his favorite things. It was full and cheeky, plump and firm. He wanted to take her there, but hadn’t thought they were ready for that just yet. He’d done it many times before, when they were in college, but anal sex required trust. And trust was what they were currently rebuilding. He didn’t want to do anything to halt the progress they’d made, so he satisfied himself with pulling at the tie and caressing her glorious ass. He loved to bend her over the bench at the foot of her bed and finger her pussy and massage her clit until she came. And then he’d use his tongue and the moisture she’d made to penetrate her coiled bud. He’d gotten as many as two fingers inside before he had to have her. It always played out the same—he’d plow into her while finger-fucking her ass. And God, when he did it, she hummed like a purring, well-tuned engine. Those fucking tanga panties were currently packed in her overnight bag, put there by Cash himself. He’d made surprise plans for them for the weekend.

Cash walked in to the office and saw Isa bending over to pick up the spilled contents of her purse. The view of her ass in that position, with her in heels that pushed it straight up to the sky, was heaven, but she seemed unsteady, dizzy even. She staggered, and Cash was at her side immediately, pulling a chair under her and guiding her down. He took her head into his hands, noticing that her color was off. She was naturally bronzed, but today her skin had a green tinge.

“Isa?”

“I just had a weird sinking feeling. I’m kind of dizzy.”

Cash thought it no wonder with the way she ran herself ragged. She was working on three commercial projects, and she insisted on jogging four miles every morning and working out with a trainer nightly at the gym. She said all the physical activity focused her. And then there were the nights, with them going at it like rabbits making up for lost time.

“I think the fumes from the excavation equipment got to me.”

Cash went to the office’s mini-fridge and pulled out a small carton of orange juice. He grabbed a package of peanut butter crackers and offered it to her.

“Eww. Just the juice, thanks.”

Cash opened the crackers and ate one. “You love these things. That’s why I keep them around.”

“I do, but I’m still feeling a little queasy from the fumes.”

Cash turned on the oscillating fan and placed it in front of her while she drank the juice and he picked up the contents of her purse.

Looking up at her from his squat, he said, “What you need is a break. What do you say we take off to New Orleans and catch Bernard Larue?”

“I’d love that.” She cupped his cheek. “But you forget, silly man, the tickets have been sold out for weeks.”

His claims notwithstanding, she’d quickly realized that he didn’t have tickets when he’d told her, in front of Grandy, that he did. She had thought his jealousy humorous. But he had tickets now. He’d planned on surprising her, so they were in his back pocket.

“Oh really?”

Isa snatched the tickets out of his hands. “How in the world did you come by these?”

“I’m trying my damnedest to make you happy. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll never stop trying. I mean that, Isa.”

She bobbed up and down in her chair. “I’m so excited! When do we leave?”

“As soon as Camp gets here.”

She wrapped her hands around Cash’s neck and squeezed his face into her breasts.

Camp came barreling through the door. “Hey, you guys need to get a room. Seriously, it’s the same thing every day.”

Isa said, “Somebody’s a Grumpy Gus.”

“Something bothering you?” Cash asked.

Camp slumped into his desk chair and exhaled long and loud. Two sets of eyes stared at him.

“It’s the Lake Charles gig. There’s this woman.”

Cash and Isa each raised a brow and caught each other’s gaze.

“Do tell, brother.”

“I don’t know what to tell. She’s got me tied up in knots. When she’s around, I don’t know if I’m happy, sad, excited, or pissed off. She calls me on all my shit too, and I’m just talking about at the work site. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if…”

Isa prodded. “If what?”

“I can’t believe I’m even thinking this, but I’m attracted to her. It’s bad too. Whenever she’s somewhere on the property, I can sense it. It’s like my body is a magnet and she’s made of metal. I’ve been reduced to an adolescent. Plus, let’s not forget the fact that I’m an engaged man.” He exhaled an exasperated sigh and fisted his hand in his hair.

“Camp?”

“Yeah, Isa?”

“You don’t seem like a man happily engaged. You’ve already been married once; don’t you think you should think things through a little bit so you don’t make a mistake?”

Camp stood. “Fuck, don’t you think I’ve thought about that?”

At his expletive and raised voiced, Cash stood and got in his face. “Don’t speak to her like that.” He threw a punch, but Camp dodged it.

“What the hell, Cash? I told you that Isa and I are friends. Get over it.” He turned to Isa, “I’m sorry. I’m frustrated and while I couldn’t be happier for you and Cash, your closeness just reminds me that Kim and I are not.”

“You have to tell her,” Isa said.

Camp turned to Cash.

“I agree, bro. You could be trapped in a passionless marriage for upwards of fifty years. In that case, an early death would be preferable to a life of longevity.”

“Jesus. Thanks for that grim image.”

Cash shrugged. “Just trying to help. It’s not too late to get out.”

“I know.” Camp nodded, as if trying to convince himself, “I know.”

≈

Isa turned to work on the following week’s schedule since she and Cash would be gone for the next three days. While she organized her week, she listened to Cash and Camp. They were talking about their father.

“Dad’s on his way; he’d like to see you. Do you think you can wait another hour before you and Isa leave for New Orleans?”

Cash shrugged. “Yeah, sure, I gotta check on the progress in the pit anyway.”

Isa studied Cash on his way outside, concluding that he looked desperate. She hated that. He’d been estranged from his father for eight years. Camp had told her that Cash had seen their father on average two to three times per year but that they didn’t speak, and she knew they’d yet to talk since he’d been back. She wondered why Cliff was coming to the site but she shook it off and went into the copy room.

Through one-way glass she saw the exterior door open and in walked Clifton St. Martin. “Speak of the devil,” she whispered. He was an imposing man who stood board straight at about six feet five. The man simply commanded the room. The twins, the shortest men in the family, stood nearly half a foot shorter than their father.

Clifton sat at the desk that was his but was being used by Cash. He started flipping through paperwork, scrutinizing and questioning every decision.

“I don’t know, Dad,” Camp told him for the third or fourth time. “I told you you’ll have to ask Cash.”

“Where the hell is that boy?”

Overhearing the full conversation, including the overly picky questions, Isa emerged from behind the copy machine.

“Hello, Clifton.”

Clifton used the wheels of the chair to push back from the desk. He stood and walked to Isa with extended arms.

“
Isa, tu es très belle
.”

Isa knew he was speaking about her beauty. He did the same to all the women in his family, and she’d always loved that. Loved being included. She’d memorized a few fitting responses and today tried out a new one. “
Et vous avez de beaux yeux
.” She loved the St. Martin ice-blue eyes, knew he was responsible for passing the color to his children, and so she told him that he had nice eyes.

Clifton smiled. “And smart too, the whole package. It’s a wonder some man hasn’t snatched you away from us.”

Camp and Isa shared a nervous look. When Cash had taken off and left Isa behind, the entire family had been crushed, but Isa begged them not to interfere. It was true that Isa had become part of their lives over the three years she and Cash had been together. Given that she had no family of her own, she’d become a permanent fixture at their home. Whenever the family was hosting a party or just having a barbeque, she’d been invited. She’d even spent some holidays with them, and it was the St. Martins who had her looking forward to her birthday instead of loathing it. Before she’d met them, no one had even recognized her birthday. They did it up big too, with decorations and gifts and so much food she had to roll herself home. And they continued to celebrate her birthday every year.

“I understand you’ve been working solely with Cash for the last eight weeks while Camp finishes up in Lake Charles.”

“That’s right.”

He lifted his brow. “Starting a project is the hardest and most crucial part. Tell me, how’s Cash doing?”

The truth was Cash had really come around and into his own over the last two months. At first he just sort of sat back and let the project run itself. He’d let her have free rein with the decision-making on her end, but she knew Cash. He’d been thrown into the project, and Cash didn’t like to show his hand until he had all the facts. The first two weeks he’d been compiling his cards to make his move. By week three he’d taken control of the team. He was a natural. The only drawback had been the fact that his name wasn’t on the company accounts, with that omission it was gumming up the schedule but he’d even found a way to work around it.

“We’re actually ahead of schedule. The developer is thrilled.”

Clifton grunted at her words. “Has he met with the developer in person?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

Cash walked through the door, and Isa looked up into his eyes. He looked composed, ready to speak to his father. And he looked quite sexy. She loved a man in jeans. She especially loved Cash in jeans.

Clifton turned to his son and they held each other’s gaze for several minutes before Cash said, “Dad.”

They sat at the lunchroom table, and Clifton started grilling Cash about every business decision he’d made. Isa and Camp listened unashamedly. Cash had a thorough and reasonable answer for all the choices he’d made. Great business decisions, Isa thought.

After forty-five minutes of discussion, Clifton said, “I’m impressed, son. This all looks real good. Tell me, what are we paying you?”

After having kept his thoughts to himself, Camp chimed in to say, “I haven’t actually paid him anything yet, Dad.”

Clifton threw his head back and engaged in deep tummy-jiggling laughter. “Well, Cash, there’s one bad decision you’ve made. You can send us a bill.”

Cash said, “About the bills… I’m having a hard time keeping up with the schedule since I’ve gotta wait for Camp to settle bills and to get cash and put payroll together. We need to add me to the company accounts as a signatory.”

Camp added, “Yeah, that solution would keep us on schedule for sure.”

Clifton pushed to his feet. “It’s my name and Campbell’s on all the accounts, and that’s how it will stay. What do you think would happen if people thought they were investing their money in you? We’d be closing our doors. The whole town knows you’re a professional gambler.”

Isa gasped. Clifton had just accused Cash of not being honorable and trustworthy with his money. She held her breath, praying that they would set aside their differences and work together. But she didn’t know how Cash would be able to forgive such a slur.