Текст книги "Burn It Up"

Автор книги: Cara McKenna

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Chapter 16

Drama at the diner notwithstanding, that afternoon was the most pleasant and relaxed time Abilene had passed in ages. After a stop at the drugstore, they drove around the county for an hour, taking in the landscape.

Even after only a week of being sequestered, she’d managed to forget how vast this place was. The sky seemed endlessly high, the badlands infinite. Freedom was nearly hers once more—not from the obligations of work and motherhood, but in simple ways. The ability to move as she pleased through town, and soon, the convenience of her own car.

Not that she’d be all that glad for these little trips with Casey to end.

Still, she’d get to work with him at the bar again, the place where their flirtation had blossomed to begin with, and soon after, their friendship. She might look naive, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew that every time they messed around, every time they spoke as they had in the car on the way to the diner, she was falling for him. It was dangerous, but so, so easy. More natural than any other crush she’d gotten tangled in. Her curiosity mounted by the day to know exactly what Casey had done to earn his record, and what he’d been up to since then, that he seemed unwilling to come clean about, even to his closest friends. If she was indeed falling, she ought to know. If you fell with your eyes wide-open, you at least knew what was waiting for you at the bottom. And who knew—maybe whatever he’d done hadn’t even been all that bad. Something forgivable.

Though in this situation, with Casey having made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t available for anything serious, it was more than she could ask of him. Even if she did uncover his past—whether it was nowhere near as bad as she feared, or unspeakably awful—it didn’t matter. It wasn’t down to her to decide to make this real. He’d told her straight up, it couldn’t ever be.

And maybe that’s a blessing in itself. It wasn’t as though Abilene was eager to share her own secrets. She shivered, watching the sun sink low over the mountains.

“Let’s head back,” she said. “I’d like to help Christine with dinner.”

“Sure.” Casey eased them onto the quiet highway’s shoulder, then swung east. “Nice to get out for a change?”

“It was perfect. The most relaxed I’ve felt in weeks.”

He smiled, eyes on the road. “I can tell.” He faltered on the final word, attention dropping to his lap for a second. Abilene caught it, then—the muffled hum of a buzzing phone.

“Pull over if you need to.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Your ex has your number now, so it’s probably not him. And I’m expecting a call, but it can wait until we’re back.”

Her thoughts immediately flashed to that conversation he’d had the night they’d first messed around. If “I told you no—now fuck off” could be counted as conversation, that was.

“A call from who?” she asked.

“Duncan.” Though his answer came just a beat too late for her to believe it, she let it go. But he surprised her.

“Sorry. That was a lie. I’m not waiting on a call from Duncan. But it’s weird and personal and too much to explain just now.”

“Okay. Thanks for being honest, at least.”

He cast her a moment’s glance. “Sure. I’ve been trying to be better about that.”

“So have I.” It could be way easier to choose lies over the truth, but in the long run, looking back at how she’d handled things with James . . . The truth was scarier in the moment, but that discomfort passed quicker than the anxiety that came with going the coward’s route.

“No more lying, no more cussing,” Casey said, as they reached downtown Fortuity.

“Pretty ambitious New Year’s resolutions.”

“More like new life resolutions . . . You know, before I came home, I had it really good. Or maybe not good, but easy. I worked as much as I wanted to, spent all my money on myself, had loads of free time, virtually no obligations.”

“Sounds like heaven.”

“I thought it was.”

She looked at him. “Thought?”

“Yeah. I mean, looking back, what did I really have? Who was I, to anybody? I had casual friendships—people I’d meet for drinks a few times a week, and poker nights and shit. I had girlfriends, but no relationships that were going anyplace. I was living like a twenty-year-old. Like a spoiled one, who didn’t even have to work hard to get by. I thought I had it made. Had it all figured out, but then when I moved back, it was kind of a punch in the guts, realizing how easy it was to say good-bye.”

“To friends?”

“To friends, and my ex, my apartment, the city. Everything. It’s like that life had been one big hotel room, and all I had to do was leave my keys and check out, and it was already halfway forgotten by the time I crossed the state line.”

“And so what’s changed?”

“Commitments, I guess. Having any, and also realizing I’m capable of keeping them. Responsibilities to the bar, and Duncan. To my brother and my mom. To you, now.”

“That’s just about over, hopefully.”

He answered after a pause, voice softer, a touch nervous. “I hope you don’t think I’m just going to back away, now that things with your ex are getting ironed out.” He glanced at her.

“I dunno. But you’ve put your life on hold for us this past week, and even before that, you helped out way more than you could probably afford to, time-wise.” She shrugged. The entire conversation had her feeling upended, if pleasantly. She’d never heard him talk this way—so candidly, about such personal things, and for the second time that day. Something had changed last night, with the sex. She’d felt it herself, and now she could tell it was true for Casey, as well. She worked hard to hide the confusing, warm glow it left her feeling. “I wouldn’t blame you at all if we went back to mostly seeing each other at the bar,” she said. “You have a new life, like you said. You can’t spend all your time trying to help me get mine in order.”

“I like helping you,” he said with another, more nervous glance. “I like that you rely on me.” He nearly mumbled it, then added, “I’m not used to people relying on me. It’s how I should have been for my mom, when I was younger, but I was too scared. And it’s still scary, but it feels good, too. I don’t know that I’d trade it for anything I had in my old life, when I think about it.”

“Not even a few hours’ sleep?” she teased. Between the bar and his family and her and Mercy, it seemed a wonder he ever got a chance to shower or feed himself. “I bet you’re working harder than Miah, these days. New mothers’ hours, practically.”

“I’ll sleep in a week or two, once you and your ex have some kind of routine in place, and he goes a nice long time not fucking anything up.”

She let the swear pass. “I’ll sleep better myself, then.”

The lights of the ranch appeared in the darkening distance. Before them, the first stars peppered the horizon; in the side mirror, the sun had fallen below the tip of the western peaks, painting the sky deep aqua and indigo. She was sad for this ride to end, but eager for the warmth and smells of the kitchen. For the fireplace, later, and for whatever might happen at bedtime. Whatever might happen in her bed, with Casey.

He was glancing at his phone the second he’d slammed his door, and she told him to go ahead and deal with it. Don and Christine were both around, and she felt infinitely safer now, two conversations into her revised relationship with James. She fed the baby, then joined Christine in getting dinner organized. It’d be an hour or more before they actually sat down and ate, and she joined the elder Churches in watching the evening news.

Dinner was pleasant, though Miah was missing, still out finishing his workday. He didn’t turn up until late, after his parents had retired upstairs. Abilene and Casey and the snoozing baby were cluttering up the couch in the den, the TV on low.

“Hey. Just me,” Miah called after the front door clicked shut.

Abilene returned the greeting as loudly as she dared.

Casey sat up straight, looking bleary, like he’d nodded off.

“Miah’s back,” she told him.

“Oh. Good.” He got to his feet with a groan, sounding beat. “Now he’s here, I could stand a change of clothes.” With James now in the picture and seeming harmless enough, Casey probably didn’t need to stick as close to her as he did, but she wasn’t complaining. She missed his nearness when he grabbed his duffel and headed for the bathroom.

She looked to the clock on the mantel as Miah appeared in the den. “Wow, it’s after eleven. That was one long workday.” And he was up by five most mornings. “I hope you get to sleep in tomorrow.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” He gave the baby’s head a soft sweep of his fingertips, then sank onto the love seat and propped his socked feet on the thick wooden slab of a coffee table. “And I finished work around seven, actually. I swung by the bar, after. Just for a beer. Where’s Case?”

“Changing.” And Miah wasn’t going to get away with slipping in that little detail about the bar, undetected. Surely it would be Raina and Duncan on duty tonight. She was surprised he’d want to face the two of them, together. Plus he was doing something he rarely did—avoiding eye contact, staring blankly at the television.

“The bar, huh?” she said. “And you’re acting kinda funny about it.”

He smiled and met her gaze. “It was a funny night. Not funny ha-ha, just . . . weird.”

“Because of Raina and Duncan?”

“Sure, a little. Not as bad as it used to be, though. Just weird being out like that.”

She noticed his clothes now. Jeans with no holes, and no dust caking the thighs, and a button-up shirt. “Oh. Did you . . . Were you on a date or something?”

He laughed. “No, no. But I am a couple years overdue for one, so I figured I ought to start showing my face in town more often.”

“Good for you.” He wouldn’t have much trouble. He was handsome and charming, and rich by local standards. The catch to beat all catches, in Fortuity. “It won’t take long, I’m sure.”

“You clearly don’t know how rusty my flirting game is.”

“Did you meet any—” She was cut off by a loud pounding coming from the front door.

Miah was on his feet in a breath, expression hard as he hurried from the room. Casey must have heard the knocking as well; he emerged barefoot from the bathroom, still buckling his belt, and disappeared after Miah.

Alarmed, she hefted the baby, holding her close and straining for clues. There was another knock, cut short by the sound of the door opening.

“Denny.” Miah’s voice. He sounded surprised.

A woman spoke, but Abilene couldn’t hear. Still, if it was somebody Miah knew by name, it couldn’t be bad, surely. Far more curious than alarmed now, she carried Mercy past the kitchen to the front hall and stood beside Casey. A young woman about her own age was just inside the door—pretty, with a deep tan and a dark braid. She was dressed oddly, in yoga pants and flip-flops, with a blanket draped around her shoulders.

“There were camera flashes,” she said to Miah, with a glance at Abilene and the now-fussing baby.

“Through the bunkhouse window?” he asked, grabbing his boots from under the bench.

“No, a ways off, but bright enough to see. He was taking photos, over by the stables—”

In the distance, three pops—gunshots, unmistakably.

Footsteps came thumping down the front stairs, and a moment later Don Church joined them in the crowded hall, tucking his shirt into his pants like he’d just pulled them on.

“What on earth was that?”

“Gunshots,” Miah said, and jogged back toward the kitchen.

“Could be Jason’s,” the girl named Denny told Don, her face ghostly white now, voice shaky. “Somebody was creeping around near the bunks and stables. Jason and I were in the kitchen. He grabbed his rifle and ran outside, but the guy bolted as soon as the door opened. He chased him, and I ran over here.”

“You call the Sheriff’s Department?” Don asked.

“No,” she said, and let Miah brush past, rifle in hand. “My phone was in my bunk.” She disappeared after him out the front door, followed by Don once he’d laced his shoes. Abilene could hear him talking to a 911 dispatcher as his voice faded away. That left her and Casey standing around, staring at each other.

She cut him off when his mouth opened. “Don’t go.”

His shoulders softened. After a beat he seemed to submit. “Okay.”

“Someone’s sneaking around again?”

“Yeah, that was one of the ranch hands.”

“I figured . . . It isn’t James.”

Casey shook his head. “Doubtful. Not unless he’s a peeping tom as well as an arms dealer. C’mon, let’s get back where it’s warm.” He shut the door and they returned to the den. The fire had cooled to a pink glow and Casey fed the hearth a couple fat logs while Abilene settled once more on the couch. She kept the baby in her lap, feeling uneasy.

“I hope no one got hurt . . . I wonder what on earth it could be about.” Not her, she prayed, though it seemed unlikely.

Casey sat on the end of the couch, facing her, hugging his knees. “Maybe a thief. Times are tough, and there’s plenty of expensive equipment here. Or maybe some creep with designs on one of the girls.”

“‘Creep’ is an understatement, if they came armed.”

“True enough.” His gaze softened, settling on the baby.

“I feel like we should be doing something.” She bounced Mercy, more to soothe her own nerves than to calm the baby’s. There hadn’t been any more shots, at least. That was something.

“We stay put, keep the baby safe,” he said. “Fill Christine in if she comes down. Fingers crossed she managed to sleep through it.”

At that, they both fell quiet for a minute or more, the crackle of the fire dominating the still room. Her heart slowed a little, as moments passed with no further shots.

“That phone call you got earlier,” she said gently, wanting a distraction. “Was it what you’d thought it was?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a follow-up conversation tomorrow; then after that, it should be all cleared up.”

She pursed her lips, then spoke the truth. “I wish you’d tell me what it was about.”

Casey sighed, shoulders rising and falling. “I will, once it’s all settled. Right now . . . Whatever comes of it, it’s going to change things for me. Majorly. I’ll tell you once I know if they’re going to change for the better or the worse, but before then, I think I’ll keep the worrying to myself.”

“I’m worried all the same. You make it sound like you’re waiting on a cancer diagnosis.”

His smile was weak and he didn’t meet her eyes, and that only made her fret more. It was crazy how attached she’d grown to this man since last summer, and then in earnest, just this past week. Not dependent, for a change—not attached out of survival, as she’d become with way too many guys. Rather, emotionally tied up.

It was a strange space to be in with a man, caught in the no-man’s-land between friends and lovers. Serious lovers. If it weren’t for the baby, all she’d need was some minuscule sign that this could be real, and she’d be head over heels for him at the snap of his fingers. In it deep and fast and reckless, as she hadn’t been since she’d been fifteen, and mixed up with her very first love. She hadn’t fallen for James this way, nor any of the other men between her first love and Casey. Those in-between guys . . . she’d needed them too badly to fall.

Real, giddy love required surrender and trust and a touch of wonder, and such things were luxuries she hadn’t been able to afford during her toughest years. Now, though . . .

Even amid the recent drama and the upheaval of new motherhood, even unsure how she’d make ends meet or where she’d live, her heart felt treacherously ready to tumble for this man.

They’d both spaced out, and the sound of the front door opening made Abilene jump. Miah appeared shortly. He looked tired and annoyed. Footsteps followed and his dad stalked through the den, heading toward the office with his phone in his hand, looking too cross for chitchat.

“No luck?” Casey asked Miah.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Jason chased him, but the guy was armed.”

Abilene’s hand flew to her lips.

“Jason’s fine—they were sky shots, he thinks, but he quit following all the same. Said he heard a vehicle start up down the road and take off due west, but that’s about it.”

“A dark pickup, no doubt,” Casey said.

“Got my money on it.” Miah sank into the rocker, tilting his head back and sighing his exasperation. “Man, this pisses me off. Got a whole bunkhouse full of spooked hands now, thinking we’ve got a poacher or a thief or a pervert on the loose.”

“Well, you might.”

“What about the security cameras?” Abilene asked.

“Dad’s checking them now, and there’s deputies on the way, to get Denny and Jason’s statements, and cruisers headed downtown, to look for the truck. I’m not holding my breath, though.”

Casey swore softly.

“Maybe it’s personal,” Abilene said. “Somebody who has a beef with one of your employees, maybe?”

“Personally, I bet it’s a burglar. A bold one. If this asshole’s spying on any of the girls, or stalking somebody, why would they be taking pictures of the stables?”

Abilene nodded, feeling a little calmed by that. Burglary was impersonal, at least.

Miah thumped the arms of the rocker with his fists, looking like a man who’d be too keyed up to sleep tonight. “I’m gonna go see if my dad’s found anything on the security tapes.”

Casey watched him go, looking agitated, then stood himself. “I’ll be back. I want to see what the tapes might have to show.”

She nodded. “I’ll probably get ready for bed.” Mercy was already out cold.

“Yeah, you might as well. I think we can safely let our guards down, if only for the night.”

She hesitated, unsure if she needed to tell Casey he was welcome to join her, or if it was implied by now. She imagined it was the latter—the condoms he’d bought at the drugstore with her weren’t exactly subtle, as signals went.

“You can, um . . . you can join me, if you want,” she said. “When you’re done down here.”

He nodded once, gaze skimming her body in a thoughtless, restless way. “I will. Right after I make sure Miah gets a stiff drink.”

“Good idea.” She held Mercy to her chest and stood. “See you if I’m not asleep.”

Casey stepped close, rested a hand on the baby’s back, and leaned in to kiss Abilene. On the lips, not the cheek. She watched him disappear down the hall with a broad grin overtaking those same lips, and the smell of him lingering about her.

Mine, she thought, with a bolt of ferocity she’d forgotten she could feel for anyone other than Mercy. That man was too many things—reliable and mysterious and goofy and a little dangerous; cute one minute, then handsome, then so sexy it made her pulse spike. Loyal and wild, and just a touch sketchy.

A hundred mismatched things, she thought.

And mine. If only in my dreams.

Chapter 17

Upstairs, Abilene laid the dozing baby in her crib, changed into her pajama bottoms and a tee, and settled under the covers, waiting. Perhaps twenty minutes later she heard steps, then water running in the bathroom. She’d left the door ajar, and Casey slipped inside. Finding her awake, his expression changed from pensive to soft in a breath. He smiled faintly and came to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Anything?” she asked.

“Not a lot. It was the same guy Miah chased, though. He recognized his build and his jacket, from the tape. At least that narrows it down to one confirmed white male creeper, and not a whole team of them. After last year’s casino drama, this town needs another criminal conspiracy like it needs a drought.”

“You get a drink into Miah?”

He shook his head. “He went out to talk with the deputies and his workers.”

“Should we be worried? For tonight, I mean?”

“I don’t think so. Guy’s a coward, and those shots were probably designed to scare Jason off, not to actually hit him.”

“That’s something, I suppose.”

“I’m with Miah—a burglar seems like the most obvious explanation.”

“And not a very good burglar,” Abilene wagered. “He’s been caught twice now.”

“Say the word and we’ll get you and Mercy out of here.”

She considered it. “To where?”

“My place, maybe.”

His place . . . There was an appeal to that, a dangerous one. He’d begun feeling like more than a friend and boss these past few days, more than a lover, even. Her growing attachment made it unwise, and beyond that, she didn’t want to uproot the baby any more than necessary, or give James any reason to doubt the stability of his daughter’s situation.

“Let’s wait and see what the Sheriff’s Department has to say. Maybe they’ll catch the guy. I’d hate to put us both through the trouble if it gets resolved.”

He nodded. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. You gonna be able to sleep tonight?”

With Casey beside her? “Yeah, I think so. If you’re sticking around.”

Another nod, and something in his expression shifted. It was more than glassy-eyed lust. Something fiercer, and every sweet thing he’d said to her in the car echoed in her memory, warming her through. I’ve never been for anybody what I’ve been for you two. And no man had ever been for Abilene quite what Casey was becoming.

No doubt she’d wanted this man, each and every time their bodies came together, but tonight felt different. Like a change in the atmosphere.

A change in me, she knew. She felt more for him than she’d felt for a man in years and years, and she hoped he’d feel it right back in the way she welcomed him inside her tonight.

She shivered at the thought, excited. It was chased by a little pang of residual guilt—a by-product of her upbringing—but then, as always, that pang transformed, charging her as Casey joined her under the blanket.

He studied her face and throat. “What do you need tonight?” he whispered. “Comfort, or distraction, or . . . ?”

“Both.” She drew him close by the collar, and in a breath he was up to speed, exactly the man she needed. His hands were warm on her ribs, and his eyes closed as he brought his mouth to hers. He felt restless and hungry, and in no time his hands were urging her, directing her. He sat up, cross-legged, drawing her onto his lap, hugging her legs around his waist.

It was the deepest kiss of Abilene’s life. The hottest, and the sweetest. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugged their centers together, and still she needed him closer. Needed to feel his strong, warm body on hers, to hear him, smell him. She let her hands roam as they wished, exploring his arms and chest and back.

It had been ages since she’d wanted a man this way. With abandon and ferocity instead of cautious curiosity. Even when she’d seduced James, she’d managed to be passive about it. But she trusted Casey so implicitly, the old role no longer fit. Every other lover she’d had had been like a lion or a wolf or some other skittish beast to be approached with deference, won through submission. But this man . . .

She wanted to be on top of him, just like this. To rub her body against his in whatever ways felt good, and to hell with whether it made her look aggressive or impolite. Sick of playing the helpless little girl part, she wanted to feel like a grown woman for the first time. Wanted to take, instead of be taken.

Casey drew his mouth back, smiling broadly, eyes crinkling. “You’re different tonight.”

“I feel different.”

“I like it,” he whispered.

“So do I.”

He held her face and kissed her hard.

Her hand found the headboard and she held his shoulder with the other, and began to move. He was hard, and she drew her own excitement against his in tight, needy motions, swallowing his moans as they kissed, until his head dropped back, eyes shut tight. He looked overwhelmed, and his breaths were coming in panting gasps. She’d known sexual power before—a cowardly, manipulative, roundabout sort of power. But nothing like this. She felt as if she were riding a wild animal instead of merely taming one.

“Fuck, honey.” His palms held her waist, eyes still shut, lips parted. She traced the lower one with her fingertips, kissed his chin and jaw and throat, his ear.

“Where’d you come from?” he murmured, barely loud enough to hear.

“You make me want things. Want to do things.” Not to merely let things happen to her. She didn’t know how to tell him what a revelation this was, so she let her body do the talking.

After another minute’s friction, he panted, “I’m gonna fucking catch fire. Let’s get our clothes off.”

She knelt between his legs, plucking at his shirt’s snaps. In a few clumsy seconds they got that off, and Casey shed his tee while Abilene worked his belt buckle open. He finished the job, shoving his jeans and shorts away. Abilene ditched her bottoms and shirt and bra, sitting naked before him now. She didn’t care about her belly or breasts or stretch marks or any other thing. All that mattered was the gleam in his eyes as he surveyed her bare body—pure awe and lust.

She studied him right back. She’d never stared at a man this way, so openly. It had seemed more feminine to steal shy glances. It had seemed more like her, in keeping with that persona she’d hidden behind for so long. But Casey knew better. He’d known she was pregnant by a violent criminal and maintained a crush on her through it all, so it wasn’t her more obvious charms that had attracted him. Precisely what it was, she couldn’t say, but ditching the shy-girl act was like stripping away more than her clothes. Like that tired old victim costume she’d relied on for way too long lay in tatters on the floor.

So she let her eyes feast, loving every detail of him. His skin was pale, freckles still lingering on his forearms and face, and tinted pink here and there, a blush that went far beyond his cheeks. The hair on his chest and between his legs was golden brown, and he had two moles on his left pec, one on his throat, each the color of toffee. A mauve smudge of a scar marred one thigh—a souvenir from a gunshot wound, though that was all she knew of its origin story.

His cock was hard, flushed dark, the skin of his head gleaming smooth and taut in the light of the reading lamp.

She saved his eyes for last, their blue looking dark, deep. Through all the scrutiny, he lay still, hands on his thighs. His lips were still parted, and his own curious eyes abandoned their exploration to meet hers.

“Thanks,” she said.

“For what?”

“For letting me just . . . look at you.”

“Thanks for the same. You’re beautiful.”

She smiled and looked down, shy in a grateful, authentic way. “Thanks.”

“You’re perfect.”

She met his gaze. “So are you.”

His hand drifted slowly to cup the base of his cock, caressing the underside in slow, faint strokes. “I want you.”

“Anything.”

“I want you on top. I like you like this,” he added, focus dropping to her breasts, her legs, back up. “All shameless.”

She smiled again, blushing. “I like me this way, too.”

“Hang on one sec.” He moved, sitting at the bed’s edge to root through the side table drawer. He took out a box of condoms, drawing his nail along the lid to break the seal. He detached one from a strip and stowed the rest.

“You mind?” he asked, holding out the little square.

She shook her head. Casey got back to where he’d been, legs spread, back against the pillows and headboard. She rolled the rubber onto him slow and careful, the act feeling like foreplay for the first time ever, instead of some awkward, mood-killing necessity.

“I haven’t been on top in ages,” she whispered, straddling his legs.

“Are you ready? I got lube, too. Or I could use my mouth, whatever you need.”

Lube? Did people actually use lube? Abilene never had, ever in her life. Her very first lover had made it clear, if a woman wasn’t wet, it was about the worst insult you could deal to a man’s ego. James had always done the job with his spit, and she’d found that scandalous—felt ashamed that she’d needed it, but also relieved that he’d bothered to care.

“What?” Casey asked, smiling at whatever upended expression she was wearing.

“That’s not . . . Do people do that? Just use that stuff?”

He laughed. “Lube? Yeah, of course. How else do you have sex in a big messy rush?”

She wasn’t sure. Sometimes it was just uncomfortable, she’d figured. She’d always blamed herself for those times.

“Have you seriously never used lube?”

“No. Doesn’t it . . . I dunno. Hurt your feelings?”

He snorted. “What kind of an asshole has the nerve to get his feelings hurt when he’s about to get laid?”

Most of my exes, probably. She supposed it stood to reason, when you played the apologetic, deferring vessel, you attracted men who were content to treat you that way.

“The bottle’s in the drawer,” Casey said, nodding to the table.

She found it, messed around with the safety seal, recapped it. “How much do you . . .”

Casey took it, squirted a small shining blob on his fingers. She watched with fascination and excitement as he slicked his cock. Crazy. All this time, she’d assumed this was the woman’s responsibility.

“Here.” He wetted his fingers again and reached down between her legs, gently stroking the cool gel along her lips. Her breath drew short, from both the sensation and the brazenness of it.

Casey laughed softly, capped the bottle and tossed it aside. “Hope you don’t think we’re cheating somehow,” he teased.

Maybe a little, but really, that was her first lover’s voice, echoing from the back of her mind. She’d much prefer to listen to Casey’s, which seemed to be telling her this was completely normal.

“Lay down a sec,” he whispered. She did, and he moved to kneeling, straddling her leg, fingers returning to her sex to trace her now-slick seam with slow, light motions. “Feel all right?”

She nodded, all at once flushed and breathless. She’d never been touched like this, with such patience and reverence and curiosity. Her pleasure wasn’t lost on him. He lowered, coming closer, bracing himself on one arm and casting her in a thrilling shadow. She could feel the heat coming off him in waves and memorized the flex of his arm as he touched her, the expression on his face, the promise of his ready cock.

“Could you . . . You know, inside me,” she mumbled. A clumsy sort of request, but the fact that she was directing at all was miraculous.

“With my fingers?”

“Yeah.”

He gave her two, slow and smooth, and her mouth dropped open.

He studied her face as his fingers worked, lust blazing in those blue eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”