“It’s not embarrassing,” Max replies softly, reaching out and grabbing my hand firmly.
“It is, though, because I couldn’t handle the stress like everyone else.” Like you, I want to say, but I don’t. “I’m a total failure.”
“You’re not a failure, Cassandra,” Max nearly growls. “You can’t control what happened to you any more than I can control having my wife leave me. It’s just a part of our past lives that we have to navigate our way through.”
“I know, but you’ve accomplished so much despite your past life. I was a twentysomething with no responsibilities other than my job, and it nearly killed me. How are you so much better at this than me?”
“I’m not,” Max snaps, his eyes boring into me. “We just handle stress differently. I mean…hell…I may have accomplished a lot, but I spent nearly a decade of my life devoid of any real romantic relationship. My eleven-year-old told me this weekend that she worries about me constantly. You think I’m not fucking up? Trust me, Cozy. I fuck up plenty.”
He exhales heavily and sits back in his seat, thrusting a frustrated hand through his hair. “What happened to you is the result of employee neglect from a shitty corporation and vile boss. You’re lucky to be alive.” His voice cracks, and my eyes instantly fill with tears at the stricken look on his face.
I hold my hand out to his again, and he calms down to lean forward and twine his fingers through mine. I’m suddenly struck with the very real possibility that I might not have lived to experience this feeling with this man at this moment because of that stroke.
That reality affects me far more than I’m ready to admit.
I cup my hand over his. “I know that now, Max. I realize that my body just isn’t built for that kind of high-pressure work environment. That’s why I’ve spent the past seven months living life by my own rules and no one else’s—except for our bang it out rules, of course.” I laugh and swipe at an errant tear that slides down my face. “I’ve been calling these past seven months my Great Defrost.”
Max doesn’t smile back at me as his Adam’s apple slides down his throat. “So are you defrosted yet? How is your health now? Really.”
“I can safely confirm that I am the picture of health.” I sit up straight and give him a cheesy smile before morphing into a genuine one. “Honestly, I feel better and happier than I have in years. Very warm and cozy.”
Max’s brooding eyes soften and crinkle around the edges. His voice is seductive when he asks, “Do I get to take any credit for that happiness?”
I bite my lip nervously. “Yes, Max. Against all odds…I’m afraid you do.”
“Let me try this whiskey of yours,” Cassandra says, standing between my legs as I sit on top of the kitchen counter in my Aspen house. Her hands slide up and down my thighs, making the constant state of my dick’s arousal more painful by the second.
I growl and kiss her neck, enjoying the view of her in my home. She’s barefoot and sexy as fuck, with her lips raw from the make-out session we had in the game room. I wanted to strip her naked and take her on the pool table, but she demanded we finish the tour.
Such a sexy, bossy nanny.
A bossy nanny who is so much more than a nanny. I fucking knew there was more to Cassandra than meets the eye. Her determination to play life casually always felt like a cover for something. But what she told me was ten times worse than I could ever imagine.
I’m going to get the name of that company out of her one of these days. This isn’t something I can just let go of. But for now…for tonight, I will savor the person she has become and appreciate her vulnerability that was long overdue.
Admittedly, I struggle to picture this corporate grind person she used to be. Dressed in business suits and hopping on commercial flights every single week isn’t her. The woman in my arms right now, grabbing my drink and wrinkling her nose as she smells it, feels like the woman she was always meant to be.
“Come on, pour me a drink,” Cassandra repeats, tipping her chin up to me as she lightly tangles her lips with mine. “I can always taste it on your tongue, but I want to try an actual drink and see if I like it.”
She thrusts her tongue into my mouth, and I groan my appreciation, drinking in the wine on her lips. She always tastes so fucking good. I’m going to devour every inch of her body tonight.
An idea pops into my mind as I break our kiss with a dirty smile. “Let me get you that drink, sweet cheeks.” She watches me curiously as I don’t pour her a glass like she expected. Instead, I take a large sip of the amber liquid and tilt my chin to her.
“Another kink released to the wild,” she squeals, and I have to fight back the urge to laugh so I don’t spray this all over her face. I’ll save that dirty image for later.
She turns around so her back is pressed to my groin, and I gently grip her neck and tilt her head back against my chest, clutching below her jaw firmly with my hand. She parts her lush red lips as I purse mine and drizzle the whiskey that’s now warm from my mouth into hers. The sound of it trickling against her tongue causes my cock to press harshly into her lower back.
When I finish, she closes her lips and turns around to face me, delicately dabbing at the droplets on her chin. Her face suddenly contorts as she aggressively shakes her head. She beats her fist on her chest as she forces herself to swallow. “Not a fan,” she blurts out, blowing whiskey breath all over my face. “It’s going to be a hard pass on whiskey from now on.” She coughs and wrinkles her nose. “I think I would have preferred your spit.”
My body shakes with genuine laughter at how she just took the sexiest moment I’ve ever experienced with a woman in my life…and made it hilarious…yet somehow even sexier.
God, I’m into her.
My glass clunks against the marble countertop as I set it down. Without pause, I reach out and grip the back of her neck, yanking her to my lips. I suck on her tongue and kiss her passionately for a moment before murmuring, “Just as I suspected, you taste incredible with whiskey on your tongue.”
“Well, don’t get used to it, Zaddy,” she says, her eyes hooded with arousal as her hands twine around my neck, and she presses her supple breasts into my chest. “I’m more of a White Claw Queen these days. That watermelon flavor hits different.”
Growling under my breath, I slide off the counter, my hard cock dragging against her body as I grumble, “I need to fuck you now, Cozy.”
“Oooh, you called me Cozy. Someone’s feeling very confident with himself,” she sing-songs and giggles as I pull her behind me to the staircase in the foyer, feeling like I’m going to lose my mind any second.
“It was my White Claw comment, right? It makes me super relatable—” I silence her by wrapping my hand around her throat and pinning her up against the wall next to the foyer table right at the bottom of the grand staircase.
Her lips part as she releases a throaty moan, and her eyes fill with fiery passion in the dark foyer with only the light shining in from outside.
“This turns you on, doesn’t it?” I ask, my fingers twitching around her neck, holding her firmly but never squeezing. “Does this make you wet for me?” Her eyes close, and I squeeze her tender flesh a tiny bit more. “Answer me, sweet cheeks.”