Coming Clean (19 page)

“Be still,” he said, the thickness of his cock wedging between my ass cheeks as he pinned me further. I fell in line, a surge of excitement jolting my body to awareness yet again. “Good girl.” He backed off of me just a bit. “Spread your legs.”

I did the best I could with my limited mobility, but that didn't seem to be good enough. “Wider,” Shaw ordered, and I managed to eke out a little more.

He hummed his approval, the leather of that belt caressing my bare skin ever so gently. Tracing the curvature of my ass, he let it dip between my thighs to rub against the tender flesh of my pussy. I moaned, arching my back and trying to push against him for more.

“You like that?”

All I could do was nod.

“Well, you won't like this.” I jumped as the belt lashed across my backside, leaving a slowly dissipating sting in its wake. Shaw's tongue followed up, the warmth of his mouth mixing with the sting to create an unbelievable mix of pleasure and pain.

The sound that came out of me couldn't have been human. It most certainly hadn't been premeditated.

Shaw and his mouth were gone as quickly as they'd come, and then another lash from the belt followed. Only this time, it was lower, across the place where my thighs met my ass. I arched again, moaned again, thought myself crazy for getting any sort of pleasure out of this. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Wider,” Shaw ordered again. And, hell yeah, I complied. The next smack was reserved in force and centered only on my pussy. Tugging at Shaw's hold on my wrists was a fruitless attempt to free myself so I could throw the man against the wall and have my way with him. This was supposed to be punishment? Oh, yeah, I could see it.

Again he whipped at my pussy, and I was sure he'd left it dripping wet from the contact.

“Fuck, sweetness,” he groaned and then pushed his cock between my legs, not entering me, but coating himself in my juices instead. He was thick and hard, the wide head rubbing against my clit and nearly making me come again.

Shaw noticed and pulled away. With a growl, he bound my wrists with a couple of wraps of the belt, and then he took a step back. I could only imagine him swiping his hands over his face, pulling at his hair, pacing to regain the control he must have lost. But it was short-lived because he resumed his place behind me, grabbed my ass with both hands, and then spread my cheeks wide. And there was nothing gentle about it.

Another groan was the last thing I heard before an intense sensation of warmth radiated from the place I'd least expected. Shaw's mouth—his lips and tongue—were all over the puckered skin at the forbidden entrance in the cleft of my ass. He was
rimming
me!

“Holy fuck!” I yelled, overtaken by the eroticism of it all. Not only did it feel amazing, but it was also so taboo, so naughty-naughty, and I couldn't help but wonder why in the world we'd never done this before.

Saliva made its way down my crevice, joining the wetness seeping from the opening of my pussy. The cool air kissed the sensitive flesh, setting all my nerve endings on edge, and I heard myself beg with a mewling sort of moan that was barely decipherable even to my own ears.

Shaw's tongue dipped lower, pushing inside me before quickly withdrawing so he could nip at the spot. And then he stood. I maneuvered my head so that my chin was propped on the counter and I could see him in the mirror. His attention was pinpointed on one place. He was watching with rapt fascination as his hands covered my cheeks, his thumbs keeping me spread for his viewing pleasure. And then I felt him at my entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing against my opening until it gave way to his quick thrust.

His head fell back as he pushed farther inside me, spreading the walls of my pussy to accommodate his girth.

I didn't care about how good he felt inside me. I didn't care that the pressure from my position was hurting my chin or that my tits would be sore or that my wrists would likely be bruised by morning. All I cared about right then was watching this beautiful man take pleasure from his beautiful woman.

Punishment? Not in this lifetime. This was a reward. And I might have fallen a little in love with Katya for dishing it out.

Shaw's head came forward again as he watched himself fuck me. His mouth had fallen open, his breaths were coming much quicker, and the wet sheen on his chest had more to do with the sweat that had broken out across it than anything left over from our shower together. In and out of me, he moved with long, deep strokes that increased in rhythm. I ignored the burning sensation coming from the harsh grip on my ass as he kept me spread for him because I knew the visual was driving him. Driving him into me and driving him mad.

I came again and again, the walls of my pussy pulling him deeper, squeezing his thick cock with gratitude. Finally, he thrust hard, his groin slamming into my backside as he replaced his hold on my ass to grab my hips instead. Shaw came. Hard. His jaw clenched tight and every tendon bulged until he'd spent all he had to give.

And then he collapsed on top of my still-bound arms.

Thank you, Katya
.

During our private meeting, Dr. Minkov had expressed her concern that Cassidy didn't quite see herself the way the rest of the world did and had perhaps lost a bit of her sensuality as a result. I was confounded by her assessment at first, thinking it impossible for someone as beautiful as Cassidy, as confident as she'd always been since the day I'd met her, to not know she was made up of the stuff that could make grown men cry. But after we left, I'd really started to pay attention to the way she carried herself. Something had changed. Looking back over the years, I realized the change had come shortly after Abe had been born. Actually, I think maybe even before then, around the same time she'd taken an indefinite leave of absence from her position at Striker.

Jesus. Did being an agent really define the way Cassidy had seen herself that much?

I still hadn't been sold on the whole idea. That is, until the opportunity to carry out Katya's assignment had presented itself. And then I'd seen with my own eyes that it was true; Cassidy no longer thought herself beautiful, and that had, in large part, been my fault because I hadn't told her often enough, I hadn't shown her, I hadn't made her feel desirable, and I hadn't considered for a second that she might need me to do all of those things because I'd been too busy doing my own thing.

Though I'd enjoyed our assignment immensely, I was most satisfied that maybe it had gotten Cassidy back on the right footing in terms of her self-image and how I saw her.

I was also now convinced that Dr. Katya Minkov was an evil genius. Not only were her assignments orgasmic, but she'd also somehow figured out a way to effectively use sex as a tool to get people to realize things about themselves on a deeper, more personal level—a level that really didn't have a thing to do with sex in the first place. If I could find some way to market that shit, I'd be a very rich man, indeed.

But forget the money. My girl had been walking around naked with her chin held a little higher, her back a little straighter, and her eyes a lot more satisfied when she looked at herself in the mirror. Seeing her like that, glowing with self-confidence like she used to, made me damn happy.

We were finally getting somewhere with all this shit, and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. So I didn't bitch one bit about our session with Dr. Sparling. In fact, I had been looking forward to it and had even shown up
before
Cassidy.

Dr. Sparling had cheesed it up over that, of course, patting me on the back and telling me how proud he was of me. I half-expected him to give me a gold star sticker to wear on my shirt for the rest of the day. Yeah, I guessed I was becoming the teacher's pet or some shit like that.

Today, his hair was pulled back into a stub of a ponytail on top of his head, and he was decked out in penny loafers with no socks, skinny jeans, and a Hawaiian button-up. For a second, I allowed myself to wonder what must go through his mind in the mornings when he picks out his attire for the day, but then I decided that was probably one cracked pot I didn't want to pour too much thought into.

When Cassidy showed up—looking well and properly sexed up, I might add—she had this air about her that made me nostalgic. She had a new hairdo, freshly painted nails, a makeup job, and somebody had obviously been shopping because I was sure I would've remembered those jeans on that ass if she'd ever worn them before. But more than her physical appearance, there was something familiar about the way she carried herself. She wasn't quite the frigid bitch of an ice queen from a few years back, but she was definitely wearing the ice queen's confidence. Yeah, my girl was Stella, and I was proud as fuck of her for getting her groove back.

So I gave her a greeting worthy of the woman before me. “Hey, beautiful!”

“Hey yourself, handsome,” she said as she bent over to give me a quick kiss. I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she took up her spot on the couch, leaning into my side and linking her fingers through mine.

“Well, you two certainly look satisfied,” Dr. Sparling said with that cheesy grin as he took a seat. “Might my colleague have had something to do with that?”

“She's doing her thing.” I chuckled with a knowing wink.

“Excellent! Time for me to do mine, then,” Dr. Sparling said, getting things under way as he pressed the button on the recorder. “Today, I want to talk about something we touched on in our last session. I don't think I'm far off the mark when I say it was a very sensitive subject between the two of you, one you both seemed happy to move on from, which tells me that it just might be at the core of your issues.” He took a deep breath as if debating whether or not he should move forward and then deciding it was already too late to turn back. “This partnership you competed for—”

Every defensive mechanism I had slammed into place before he could finish what he was about to say. Gone was my stupid grin. Gone was that light at the end of the tunnel. Gone was Cassidy's hand, and there was now a gaping space between us on the couch.

I wanted to fire him on the spot.

“—seems to still be an unresolved issue for both of you.”

My jaw tensed with grinding teeth. “I really don't see the point of reopening old wounds, Doc.”

Goofy grin. “I think we have to, Shaw. Otherwise, all we're doing is putting a Band-Aid over the lesion without repairing the severed vein bleeding out beneath the surface.”

Damn. This was not
Grey's Anatomy,
and Jeremy Sparling sure as hell wasn't Dr. McDreamy.

He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, continuing. “So, it's a sore spot, yes?”

I sighed, and got comfy in my corner of the couch because this session was about to get really messy. “Yep.”

Back when I'd first come to Striker, Cassidy had taken some potshots at me in this superior sort of voice that was meant to put me in my place before I'd ever ventured outside of it. That was the same voice she used now. “Sometimes, I think Shaw thinks we're still competing for it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I didn't win it fair and square,” I told him, my knee beginning to bounce with my aggravation. “She did, and then she gave it up.” All those old feelings of knowing I'd been second best came flooding back to me. It was safe to say I didn't do well with inferiority. A fact I was sure our host would've had a field day with if ever given the chance for a one-on-one.

“Tell me what happened.”

Cassidy told the story, wrapping it up nicely with a big, puffy bow on top, while I sat back and rubbed the hell out of my chin, listening to her recount the details in that methodical way of hers. She didn't show any weakness with it, no sign that it had been as much of a bother to her as it had been for me, but I knew differently. Someone with the amount of tenacity Cassidy possessed did not give up the golden goose without feeling the loss on a fundamental level. The doc was right; it was definitely an unresolved issue, and it was a very big deal. Otherwise, we wouldn't have fought so hard over it.

Dr. Sparling looked up from his pad once he'd finished scribbling his notes from the tale. “So you gave the partnership to Shaw, and now you're not working at all. Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?” she asked.

“Working.”

She nodded hesitantly. “Up until Abe came along, it had been the center point of my life, that thing that had defined who I was and where I was going.”

“And where are you going now?”

She shrugged. “I don't really know. The partnership had been the end goal for me. Not getting it was a failure. Until then, I'd never failed at anything.”

Her admission made me feel like a thief. But I hadn't taken it from her, dammit!

“And now Shaw has the partnership,” Jeremy said, stating the obvious and really testing my restraint. “Is there some part of you that might be transferring some of the blame for the failure to him?”

“Some? Try all,” I answered, figuring I'd stayed quiet for long enough.

Cassidy's eyes narrowed to slits, invisible death rays shooting out of them. I didn't give a shit. A man could only take so much of being cut down before he had to start defending himself.

So I did some chopping of my own. “It's cool, though. She just faked her orgasms and announced that to the world to get back at me. Isn't that right, Cass?”

It was like waving the red cape in front of a bull. “We're back to that now? Okay, fine. No, it wasn't to get back at you. I faked my orgasms to give you some sense of accomplishment that you did not earn. Yet again.”

Like the smart-ass that I was, I turned toward Dr. Sparling and clapped my hands. “Congratulations, Doc! You were absolutely right in your assessment. Everything does come back around to that damn partnership.”

Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Stop it, Shaw. You're acting like a child.”

I got serious then, sitting forward to lay it all out on the table for her. “No, I'm not acting like a child, though you like to treat me like one. I'm a man who's doing everything he can to take care of his family. But that's not good enough for you, is it? Trust me, no one knows better than I do what you gave up when we had Abe. Don't you get it? All I'm trying to do is be worthy of the sacrifice you made.”

The woman infuriated me to no end. I knew how much she'd sacrificed for me, for Abe. She'd worked damn hard to be the best sports agent in the country. Admittedly, even better than me. She'd given up the partnership, not for my sake but so she could return to Stonington to care for her mother. And her giving up her career was so she could be the one to raise our son instead of some stranger. She gave up something she loved for someone she loved more. Not a day went by that I wasn't reminded of it, that I didn't see the resentment toward me because of my part in it, that I didn't feel the weight of the burden placed upon my shoulders to make it fucking be worth it.

She was full-on crying now, her face beet red with emotion. “Don't you dare do that, Shaw. Don't you make me a martyr, and don't label my being a mother to Abe a sacrifice. I love him, and I want to spend as much time with him as I can because I don't want to miss a
second
of his life. His first words, his first steps, the first time he donned that Superman cape…I was there for each one of those milestones. But you? You missed them all.”

Yeah, I fucking knew that, too. “And why do you think that is, Cassidy? You think I didn't want to be there?”

“If you did, you would've been. All I can go on is what you show me, and what I know from that is you always put your work before your family. You care more about your clients and what's going on with them than you do your own son. I'm tired of making excuses for you when he cries, wanting his daddy to play with him. I'm tired of having to explain to him that his daddy can't come home to eat the lunch
he
made for you because Daddy is having lunch in some fancy restaurant with whichever famous athlete you're schmoozing that day. And I'm tired of apologizing to him because his daddy can't be there to read him the bedtime story he picked out because he thinks it's one
you
would enjoy. I'm just plain tired.”

I raked my fingers through my hair, ready to pull it out by the roots. “What do you want me to do, Cassidy?”

“I don't know! Something! Anything!”

“I can't be at work and with you guys at the same time. Do you want me to give up everything I've worked so hard for? Is that it?”

“Oh, what you've worked so hard for,” she repeated. “You're talking about the partnership I earned and then gave to you, right? Because if memory serves me correctly, I'm the one who clawed her way out of a town that no one leaves, studied her ass off to become an attorney just to get a shot at being an agent, and then worked my way up from an entry-level position to finally see all of my hard work pay off. No one gave me an internship simply because I was good at kissing ass! And now you're sitting in an office that should belong to me, with a title that should belong to me, and schmoozing clients that should belong to me while I raise our child by myself.”

“Ho-ly shit. I finally get it,” I said, having a
eureka
moment. “You're jealous, aren't you? That's what all of this is about.”

Cassidy guffawed despite her tears. “Of course you'd think that. I'm not jealous, Shaw. I resent the hell out of you. It should've been me. You know it, and I know it.”

“You didn't have to give that partnership to me.”

“And you didn't have to accept it.”

“Well, it's a good thing I did because then you went and got yourself pregnant.” I regretted the words the second they came out of my mouth.

“Oh, I got
myself
pregnant, did I?” More incredulous laughter followed. “With what? A turkey baster? It takes two to make a child, Shaw. Sex Ed 101. Perhaps if you'd stayed in school long enough, you would have learned that.”

And then I was fired up all over again. “Ah, there we go! Finally! You want to know what the core of the matter is, Doc? Well,
that's
it, right there. She sits up on her high and mighty pedestal, looking down her nose because she thinks she's better than me.”

Cassidy's eyes shot wide. “I do not!”

I ignored her objection, calling it like I saw it. “How in the world did Stonington, Maine's favorite daughter end up with an uneducated, underprivileged inferior from the hard streets of Detroit? Right?”

“That's not what I think at all!”

I nodded like a madman. “Yes, it is. I may not have been formally educated, but I've done pretty damn well for myself despite the fact. It doesn't matter, though, because I'll never be good enough for you!” I stabbed my finger in the air toward her.

Cassidy did some finger stabbing of her own. “It's always all about you, you, you! This has nothing to do with where you came from or how educated you are. I don't love you despite that; I love you
because
of that, because it's what's made you the person you are.
I
don't think I'm too good for you.
You
do!”