Double Down (6 page)

He growled something low and obscene against her neck. “Don’t stop.”

“The dirty talk?” She was dizzy, strung so tight, breathless. Cass fixed her eyes on their mirror image. The filthy words spilled out of her as her orgasm built and built. “Slam that cock into me. I need it. Harder. Fuck me, Ryan. All you can give me. Oh—”

A wall of sensation crashed over her. The shuddering force of her climax was more than she could control, more than she could stand. Big hands that smelled of her own arousal clamped over her mouth. Her scream vibrated against his palm.

Ryan followed right after her. That glorious cock jammed all the way in, pressed tight, straining. He made a choking sound in his throat as his body went rigid. A hard shake racked his big shoulders. They were still so close that she felt it deep in her bones.

They sat there for hazy, lightheaded minutes. Cass couldn’t catch her breath, while beneath her hands, Ryan’s wide back expanded with every shallow inhalation.

Slowly, the world began to make sense again. The heavy bass of a Nine Inch Nails track climbed her backbone.

The edge was gone. The primal urge sated.

For now.

She looked down to where Ryan kept his face between her breasts. Almost tenderly, she smoothed the damp hair back from his temples. One stroke, then another, soothing them both to reality.

She kissed his slick forehead. “You okay?”

A very contented masculine chuckle reverberated off her breastbone. “Hell yeah.”

He untangled their upper bodies and leaned back against the corner of the dressing room. Only then did Cass get a good look at the damage she’d done.

“Oh, shoot.”

“What?”

She reached out to touch the bruises and teeth marks, but her courage failed. After all they’d just done, she didn’t have the guts to touch him there.

Ryan sat up slightly, his hips still joined with hers. He leaned toward the mirror. “Whoa. Remind me not to tick you off.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“Hey,” he said softly. Both hands came up now, cupping her face. “I was right here, remember? I could’ve stopped you, but I don’t think that’s what I asked for.”

“I’ve never…” She couldn’t find the words. She’d never done
any
of this. It seemed silly to fixate on the proof of her aggression, but it was easier than looking all of it in the face.

“Cassandra?”

Oh, that wasn’t fair.

“What?”

“I’ve never either, okay?” Almost primly, he kissed her on the nose. “Not ever. Not like this. Believe me, I’ll be pinching myself in the morning.”

She found a wobbling grin. “You’ll only give yourself more bruises.”

“Nah, I’ll leave that to you.”

Cass took comfort in the return of his smile. It was going to be all right. That’s what his smile said. Mindless storm of passion gone. Resume being funny and flirty. She knew what the flirting led to, but she needed that break to regain her footing.

Speaking of which, she edged off his lap before her sudden self-consciousness made movement impossible. She couldn’t look at him as she got dressed.

A finger along the back of her thigh made her jump. “I ripped your stocking,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“You can buy me a new pair with your winnings.”

“Done.”

He touched her again, this time helping to undo the ties of the corset. She would’ve expected another man to cop a feel while she was vulnerable, but Ryan didn’t press. He watched. Of course he watched, yet he gave her space enough to return to herself—as if he really was as considerate as she’d first imagined.

When she finally felt put back together, at least half-assed, Cass turned to face him. He’d done up his slacks, and the condom was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t want to know. The missing buttons on his shirt were a lost cause, which meant it would gape open for the rest of the night.

Great. Might as well put a neon sign over his head.
Yup, got fucked.

But she couldn’t leave his hair that way. Bits of it stuck up where she’d tangled and twisted. She grabbed a comb from her clutch. “Don’t move.”

With efficient movements, she sleeked his hair back into place. Only when she finished did he take gentle hold of her wrists.

“Hey,” he said gruffly. Cass could barely hear him over the steady thrum of a Stone Temple Pilots riff. “Thank you.”

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. What did one say in such a situation? “You’re welcome” didn’t seem appropriate. That made it sound too one-sided.

The tenderness in his eyes, the wonder that lit his expression… She couldn’t leave him hanging. What they’d shared, no matter what else they ever had, was something she’d never forget.

Cass bent at the waist until her mouth was level with his. Their calmer breaths mingled. She pressed a kiss against his lips, filling it with all the amazement and satisfaction she felt.

“Thank you,” she whispered there.

The song ended. Maybe the whole CD needed changing because silence blanketed the shop. It was like the lights coming up for a bar’s last call.

Ryan grinned. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

“We’re gonna get busted.”

“It would’ve happened already.”

Cass’s ears still rang in the abrupt quiet. As she strung the costume back on its hanger, she said, “I’m buying this.”

“I suppose it’s only fair. Though if you don’t want to keep it, I’ll have it.”

“Not your size.”

“I could get off on the memories for years.”

“You don’t seem the type to take trophies.”

He lifted his brows. “That’s just my wholesome looks. I had you fooled.”

“Not at all, Mr. Haverty.”

Resolved to keep her backbone, Cass pulled open the dressing-room door. The strangest thing happened as she stepped out. She didn’t feel ashamed. Her dignity was all there, strong as ever. Instead she felt almost…arrogant.

Fucked in a sex shop? Been there, done that. Bought the naughty Goth costume souvenir.

She swallowed a giddy bubble of sound as she walked to the counter. “I’ll take this.”

The clerk shoved a hunk of bright purple hair out of her eyes. “Took you long enough to decide.”

“Wanted to make sure,” Cass said, proud of how even her voice was.

Ryan came up behind her, warming the length of her back. The clerk’s eyes went wide. Cass could just imagine what she saw. Buttons missing. Chest scratched all to hell.

“I’m going to have to charge you extra.” The clerk smirked.

“What for?” Ryan asked.

“Discretion charge. Twenty bucks.”

Cass laughed. Ryan, however, appeared surprisingly embarrassed. She hadn’t expected that at all, not from such a hard-charging guy.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said.

“Not
necessary
.” The clerk shrugged. “But I didn’t have to let you finish, buddy. Believe me, the police come pretty quick when I call. They generally get a good laugh out of what they bust up.”

Ryan looked eager to dissolve. The sideways slant of his shoulders and the loose set of his knees made him seem like an animal preparing to flee. Again Cass was surprised. He came across as such a confident man that this hesitation stood out big time.

She laid the money on the counter. “Would you bag that up for me?”

“Sure thing.” The clerk smiled as she slipped the extra twenty in her pocket.

Cass took the opportunity to sort out Ryan. She pulled him off to the side. “Hey, you okay?”

“Fine.”

“All in good fun, right? She’s just teasing us. Now she gets a bottle of wine at the end of the night—everyone’s happy.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She couldn’t help her frown. He wasn’t the same now. Something darker had come up from behind them both. She didn’t care for it, and she didn’t know what was wrong.

Fatigue was starting to get to her. She felt it behind her eyes and in her joints. Lucky thing it was the weekend because she’d need the next forty-eight hours to recover.

One more glance at Ryan revealed the truth. She didn’t want this to be it. Not yet, and she really didn’t want it to end on such an oddly sour note. They both deserved better after what they’d already shared. The potential she’d sensed earlier in the evening was only partly realized.

She took his hand and petted the back of it. “I have an idea, if you’re willing to hear it.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Smile first. Smile like you’ve just had the best fuck of your life.”

That got to him. He grinned around a huffing laugh, ducking those beautiful hazel eyes away. “Guilty as charged.”

“Good. Then let’s get out of here.”

“Where to?”

“Don’t know.” She shrugged. “You got any ideas?”

“Tons.”

“I knew you seemed resourceful.”

Ryan kissed her forehead. Some of his teasing was back, but with that darker edge she couldn’t pin down. Maybe he was just what she’d assumed from the start—a gentleman. He didn’t seem to mind getting his grind on, but being caught was a different matter. Cass should’ve sympathized. Instead, she wanted him to be as brazen as she unexpectedly felt.

She shook away the impulse. They were damn lucky to be getting along as well as they did. They didn’t
know
each other—other than carnally, she thought with a private grin.

Give him time. Let it go.

“How about I go wait in the car. You pick something out for me. A surprise.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Moment of truth time. She’d trusted him this far. He could very well do a one-eighty and pick a sex toy she couldn’t go through with using. Despite the brief dip in his mood, he was still the same guy.

“Your choice, Ryan. Anything you want.”

Chapter Seven

In the tiny hallway that led to the parking lot, Ryan took a half second to gather his thoughts. A red-striped bag dangled from his grip. The sound system kicked back on—System of a Down this time, and of course the song was “Violent Pornography”. He shot a glare at the clerk, but she only crossed her arms on the counter and smirked.

He shook it off. Everybody fucks, indeed.

Not everybody lucked into an amazing one. That it had been so…
out there
was only an accident. A lightning-fast twist of fate—not the type of thing a guy kept up for a lifetime. If it weren’t for the black-and-white outfit wrapped in tissue paper, Ryan might believe that.

Do it or don’t, Fang.

Cassandra grinned at him as he opened the car door. “Where to?”

He tossed the bag in the back and wedged himself into the passenger seat. “First, the steakhouse.”

“Oh.” Her smile faltered, but she turned the ignition anyway.

“Hey,” he said, curling a hand around her jaw and forcing her to look at him. He made himself grin. She seemed to like it when he was friendly and funny. Not that he could blame her. This was a night outside reality. She didn’t need to know how indulging in something so sordid and carnal went against his every carefully hoarded scruple.

He’d worked damned hard to make a life that wasn’t trashy. Getting busted by some smirk-faced sex-shop clerk didn’t figure in the picture.

“I said ‘first’, didn’t I?”

She huffed out a laugh, but it was enough to blow away the tension. “Yes, you did.”

The ride back to her work was filled with quiet teasing. As if by agreement, neither of them said anything about the red-striped bag on the rear seat. Ryan didn’t miss how her gaze flicked to the rearview mirror as if she were trying to see inside. Hell, he knew what was in there and he felt like turning around to poke, if only to make sure he hadn’t lost his mind. He’d actually, really bought that for a woman he’d just met.

In a way, that made it easier. If Cassandra assumed he was a freak, he had less to lose. Not nothing, because he already found her fascinating. The chance she’d think badly of him wouldn’t ever be as bad as losing Ashleigh. The disgust in her voice… All of her respect and love, simply
gone
.

Finally Cassandra pulled into the lot, and he pointed at his extended cab F-150. It was one of the only vehicles left in the lot, except for what looked to be a catering van at the far end and a shiny BMW two spots down.

She giggled as she put the car in park. “You know, I’m not surprised you drive a big truck. It fits.”

He took a hold of the end of one of her braids. She was raggedy, with reddish locks slipping out to frame her face, but it only added to her appeal. She looked like she’d been screwed to the high heavens. He couldn’t help but feel damn proud of that.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so All-American. The guy next door. Suburbia and tailgate parties.”

That was sort of what he’d been shooting for. All his life—everything he’d grown up without. Everything he still worked so hard to protect.

“Except for where I bang dirty Goth girls in dressing rooms,” he said tightly.

“Except for that.”

Her smile went so wide that he had to taste it. Just like that, all the air stripped out of the compact, replaced with their hot panting. A tiny halo of condensation circled the windshield.

Ryan pulled back. “If I don’t get out of here immediately, you’re going to get fired. Here, give me your phone.”

Cassandra handed it over, and he plugged in his phone number.

“Here’s the deal,” he said. “If you like what’s in the bag, you’re going to go get a hotel room. One on the Strip, I think. You choose. Then you’re going to text me with where and the number. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her eyes went dark as her pupils widened. “Yes, sir,” she breathed.

Oh shit, did he like that or what? He was turning out to be more of a sicko than he’d thought. He ignored it in order to steal a last kiss with his hand wrapped around the nape of her neck where her skin was softer than down.

When he got out of the car, he paused in the open door and leaned back in. She looked at him with anticipation, but her hand was already on the gearshift—as if she was ready to zip away. Where she’d go remained a mystery.

“If you don’t like it…” He gripped the edge of the door, letting the warm metal bite into his palm as he attempted to order his words. “If you don’t, just text me that you got home safe, okay?”