“Jesus.”
“Yeah.” She inhales deeply. “There was this guy from my job in Denver, but it was a long time ago now.”
“Denver?” I can’t help but ask, bracing myself for her to shut me down like she always does when I ask about her past.
She smiles and strokes my eyebrow. “My old corporate job.”
My head jerks. “You had a job in corporate?”
“Yes.” She frowns, and her eyes turn pensive. “But I really don’t like to talk about it.”
“Why not?” I inquire, splaying my hand over her waist, patiently waiting for whatever morsel of her past she’s willing to offer me.
She gets a sad look in her eyes and turns to stare up at the ceiling. “Because I didn’t leave on good terms, and it’s why I moved back home to Boulder.”
My mind whirls with these new puzzle pieces clicking into place. She had a job in corporate that she left on bad terms. What the hell happened? I can’t imagine Cassandra quitting any job unprofessionally. The few times we’ve discussed her performance here, she always seems oddly professional, despite her willy-nilly outlook on life.
A lot of things are making so much more sense now.
“I needed a big change,” she adds, turning back to face me. “A re-set.”
“Like a nannying job,” I offer, staring down at her thoughtfully. Her life philosophy, her casual laissez-faire attitude. Her intense commitment to making no plans. Her resistance to committing to the charcuterie business with Kate.
She’s not lazy…she’s recovering. From what exactly, I don’t know. I open my mouth to ask her more questions, but she rolls toward me and places her hand on the ridge of my cock.
Her lips press against my chest as she murmurs, “Anyway…I’m clean. You’re clean. Let’s get back to banging it out.”
She pushes me onto my back and crawls on top, giving me a perfect view of her as she peels off her hoodie and sports bra. Her breasts fall toward me, and I can’t help but reach up and grope them, all thoughts of Cassandra and her past life vanishing in the presence of these sexy things in front of me.
I sit up and wrap my arms around her, sucking her nipple into my mouth as she combs her fingers through my hair.
Fuck, I love when she does that.
We ditch the rest of our clothes and slip under the covers before she returns to her position on top. She grips my bare shaft and holds me to her wet center.
I feel like I’m going to fucking blow it already.
“You sure?” I ask, staring up at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Her answer is to slowly sink down on top of me, and the audible groan that erupts out of my mouth makes me really fucking glad my kid isn’t in the house right now.
“Fuck, Cassandra, you feel so fucking good,” I growl, my hands sliding up her legs and gripping her ass firmly as she stills on top of me.
“Oh, my God, Max,” she moans out a high-pitched cry and throws her head back. Her hands are in her hair as she begins to move on top of me, riding my cock like a goddamn wet dream.
Her eyes aren’t on me.
But her sweet, soaking wet pussy is on me as it grips my shaft with every grind of her hips. I force myself to ignore the fucked-up thoughts that invade my mind. Thoughts where I doubt she’s into me or that I’m enough to satisfy her.
Cassandra wants me. Her body feels like it was made for me. Every curve, every dimple, every soft and firm part of her feels like it was made for my hands and my mouth. I crave her on a carnal level. And having her bare like this just further stokes my desire to devour her. This attraction isn’t one-sided. She’s here with me—no question.
She jerks forward as I grip her hips and thrust up into her, stroking her G-spot harder so we can come together. Her hands rest on my chest as her haunted eyes find mine. The erotic look of pure fucking euphoria on her face is enough to have me come apart.
I wrap a hand around her waist and hold her as I flip us over. She gasps when I grab her wrists and press them hard into the mattress above her head. I lower my lips to her neck and suck softly on her flesh, inhaling her scent as I chase her to the finish line.
Just as her center begins to grip me, she yanks her hands free and wraps them around my face. She pulls me away from her neck to look at her.
“Eyes on me,” she rasps, and hearing my words echoed from her lips as her orgasm begins squeezing my cock has me joining her in unison while our gazes hold each other.
The connection I feel with her, the connection I see reflecting in her eyes as I fill her with my release and no barrier between us…is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
Max’s head rests on my belly as I play with the strands of his hair. He always gets this drugged look in his eyes when I mess with it. I fear I may be slightly addicted to that face.
We’re spread out naked on his bed, blankets and sheets strewn all over. I can’t help but smile when I realize that this is the most comfortable I’ve ever felt with a man physically. Which is an odd thing to realize with someone you’re just “banging it out” with.
With past men, I had to remind myself to be confident because I knew that was what men liked. But with Max, it has come naturally. Maybe because I was too shocked when it started to give myself time to be self-conscious. Or maybe it’s the way he praises my body when we’re intimate or how his eyes rove over me like he’s committing every inch of me to memory the way I do to him.
It could be any one of those things.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” I ask, my head propped on his upholstered headboard as I look down at him.
“I’m going to need a sandwich before I can go again,” he murmurs with a lazy grin.
“Not that.” I tug his hair gently and look up around his bedroom. “Did you live here with Jessica before the divorce?”
Max’s brow furrows as his glazed eyes turn to me. “No…why?”
I shrug. “Just curious.”
He closes his eyes as he adds, “I’ve never brought a woman in this house before actually…ouch,” he snaps, and I realize belatedly that I’m pulling his hair.
“Sorry!” I release his locks and stare down at him with my eyes bugging out of my head. “You’ve never brought a woman here?”
“No,” Max says simply, moving off my stomach to rub his head. He lies on the pillow next to me, his bicep flexing as he props a hand behind his head. “I go to their place, or I get a hotel room.”
I turn on my side and pull the sheet up over us so I can focus on this very shocking admission. “Even on the weeks when Everly is at her mom’s?”
His perfect profile nods in confirmation.
“That’s messed up, Max.”
“Why?” he asks with a laugh, turning to look at me with that boyish grin that gives me butterflies.
“Because you’re in your mid-thirties.” I shake my head to refocus. “Why don’t you bring women here?”
He licks his lips and looks around the room with a thoughtful expression. “Because I bought this home for Everly and me, and since I never date anyone seriously, why would I bring them into this world?”
I take a moment to consider this. He’s shown over and over how much his daughter means to him. How he rearranges his life to make sure she knows he loves her. It’s crazy to think he’s never wanted a partner to be a part of all that.