7
WITH KATE IN TOWN to help get Bare Essentials going, Cassie felt free to give in to impulse.
And impulse had her eating whatever she wanted—screw her agent telling her to remain thin—which included a daily sandwich by Diane at the deli. Impulse had her going to the library for more of the books she sucked down every night—and teasing Mrs. Wilkens about her phone sex.
And impulse sent her back to New York for her agent’s birthday party bash.
Going back had nothing to do with work. Nothing to do with needing something from her apartment. Or even wanting to see her friends.
Neither did it mean that she missed New York, because actually, surprisingly, she hadn’t given it that much thought.
She just needed…out.
And she made no mistake about it, she knew exactly why she needed out. Tag.
She still couldn’t believe he’d sent her home alone after she’d teased herself into a feverous pitch in front of him. Granted she hadn’t shown as much skin as she had at the lake, when she’d worn nothing but skin…but she’d masturbated right in front of him! She knew men, damn it, and knew that watching a woman touch herself was basically nirvana. Heaven on earth. A fantasy come true.
She’d given him that, and still, he’d remained cool as rain. Nearly a week had gone by and she still couldn’t believe he hadn’t given in to his body’s obvious craving.
But he hadn’t, at least not in front of her.
Which meant he had far more self-control and restraint than she did, and she had plenty. It startled her, knowing he wasn’t the usual puppet on a string. That he had his own mind. Was his own man.
It startled her, and unsettled her. Enough that she told Kate she was going for two days. She needed some action, and New York was where it was at.
Kate wasn’t happy, but Cassie easily distracted her, mostly because Kate was busy with other projects such as working at the local theater—the Rialto—not to mention she had her own problems with the sexy Jack Winfield. And he was pretty damn sexy, so Cassie could understand the distraction.
In any case, Cassie wasn’t worried. She wouldn’t be in New York long enough for Pete to track her down. Besides, she had the restraining order. And in the mood she found herself in, she felt invincible.
Or at least, battle ready. Bring it on, Pete, she thought testily. Bring it on.
Back in the city, she looked up her friends, went to the birthday party, hit a great new dance club afterward, lined up some work for the fall and winter…and by the end of forty-eight hours, was ready to go home.
Home. As in Ohio.
Pleasantville, Ohio. She sat on the plane, staring sightlessly down as the landscape passed her by, wondering when exactly she had started to think of that one-horse, narrow-minded, too small town as her…home?
Not good. In the name of distraction, she asked the flight attendant for a deck of cards and tried to occupy herself in a mean game of solitaire, but she kept losing.
By the time she got off the plane, shouldered her carry-on and walked outside, the sun was setting. She put on her sunglasses and looked for Kate, who’d promised to pick her up, and realized she was still carrying the deck of cards.
Maybe she’d get Kate to come over to play a game with her tonight. Then she wouldn’t have to stay up late and stare into the mirror above the bed wondering what the hell she was going to do for another long month and a half.
Only there was no sign of Kate. Really, that was no surprise. Cassie had always figured Kate would be late to her own funeral. With a sigh, she found an empty bench and sat, idly shuffling the cards to keep her hands busy.
When a patrol car pulled up, she frowned. Her frown turned to an all-out scowl when Tag rolled down the window. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, his shoulders straining his uniform shirt. Not that she’d admit it to him, but she knew him now, and could read his tension. What had gotten his panties all ruffled?
“Ready?” he asked.
Ready. Maybe that explained the odd tremble in her limbs at the sight of him. “Has hell frozen over?”
His jaw tightened. “You want to be nice to me today, Cassie. I’m in a mood.”
“Oh, fine, you’re in a mood. Well, just take it on down the road.”
“Get in.”
“What’s the matter? Am I disturbing the peace?”
“Yeah. Mine.”
“Kate is going to meet me.”
“The arrangements have been changed.”
She was going to kill Kate at the first opportunity. “I’d rather walk.”
“It’s thirty miles and it’s going to be dark in five minutes.” He sighed. “Let’s go.”
She would never in a million years be able to explain to anyone, much less herself, why she stood up and got in the squad car.
Without glancing at her again, he put the car in drive and took off. Cassie looked around her with morbid curiosity. “I’ve never been in one of these before.”
“Uh-huh.”
She hadn’t, but at his sarcastic “Uh-huh” she folded her arms and stared straight ahead. Why had she said that? Why had she just opened her mouth and let something personal like that fly out? She never did that, and she never would again, or she’d cut out her own tongue.
Another rough sigh punctured the air, and his hand went to her thigh. She tensed, but all he did was gently squeeze her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was uncalled for.”
She tossed his hand off her leg. “Whatever.”
With a soft oath beneath his breath, he exited the freeway, took a few turns, obviously knowing where he was heading despite the dark, dark night and the fact that there were no streetlights. They ended up on the east side of the lake.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“Talking.”
She stared into his sharp, knowing eyes. “About?”
“You shouldn’t have gone to New York this weekend.”
“I was in and out. Never saw Pete. He never saw me.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’m sure. Look, he’s probably already lost interest.”
He shook his head. “It was still foolish. Foolish, dangerous and stupid.”
She crossed her arms. “Well, why don’t you just tell me how you really feel?”
“Why did you do it?”
“I needed to get away.”
“From me?” He seemed too big for the car. His shoulders and chest and arms filled her vision. So did his badge.
She turned and stared out the windshield. “Awfully conceited, aren’t you?”
“When are you going to tell me why you’re so bitchy when I’m in my uniform?”
“Um, because it’s a terrible color on you?”
“Goddamn it, can’t you just answer a question?”
She expertly flipped the deck of cards between her fingers. “Sure, when I feel like it.”
He got out of the car, came around for her and opened her door.
Cassie looked out over the black water and felt an urge to strip down and swim off all her tension. “You’re on duty.”
“I left work when I picked you up.”
“I want to be alone. I want to go home.”
“We’re alone here, this is a secluded spot. Please?” He held out a hand.
She stared at that large, work-roughened hand, at his long, well-shaped fingers. If he’d said anything else, if he’d been a jerk and demanded she get out, if he’d just hauled her out himself, she would have been able to tell him to go to hell in a handbasket.
But he’d said please, in that low, husky voice that could charm a nun. Damn him. “I suppose it’s hot enough that I could dip my feet in for a few minutes.”
“Good. Bring the cards.”
“Why?”
His lips curved slightly but he said nothing as she got out without accepting his help and walked to the empty beach, making sure to walk the walk, to toss her hair, to glance back at him over her shoulder.
Just so he’d remember exactly what he’d turned down the other night. It’d serve him right, she thought, for always so effortlessly making butterflies dance in her belly.
For making her so off balance with just the look in his eyes.
* * *
TAG CAUGHT THE WALK. His gaze was pretty much glued to her ass and hips as she swung them all the way down to the water.
He knew she had no plans on letting him get any closer than it took to drive him wild with desire. He understood that, and appreciated the need coursing through him at the sight of her lush body, clad in a hip-hugging, gauzy white skirt and matching sleeveless blouse that was tied beneath her breasts, exposing a good hand span of her midsection.
Added to that dazzling effect was the fact the material gave off the impression of being sheer, that with every movement he was catching peekaboo hints of the soft flesh beneath.
Hell yeah, he wanted her. Badly. But something had happened to him that night she’d accused him of being like every other guy on the planet. Oh, he wanted the sex. He wanted the sex with her. And yet, surprisingly, he wanted more.
And he wanted her to know that. He wanted her to face it, to accept it, because he had the most shocking feeling no one had ever given her more. Ever.
In front of him, she kicked off her shoes and sat on a pile of rocks, watching the water hit the sand. She pulled up her skirt to her knees and leaned back, appearing relaxed and at ease.
Coming up next to her, he took in the gentle rise and fall of her bare stomach as she breathed, and concentrated on matching her calm rhythm. “Remember that night I won that teddy bear for you?”
Still facing the lake, her lips quirked. “I remember.”
Hunkering beside her, he studied her beautiful profile. “Do you remember the kiss?”
He was close enough to hear the little catch in her breath as she turned to him. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“No.” Sitting, he kicked off his shoes and socks, then took the cards from her hand, shuffled and dealt them each five cards. “Want to play?”
“I’m good,” she warned.
“So am I. Poker?”
Her eyes lit with pure trouble. “Strip poker?”
“If you’d like.”
Her gaze fell to his uniform shirt and she lifted a shoulder noncommittally, but it was enough to decide him. In uniform he made her nervous, not that she’d ever admit it, and he didn’t want that barrier between them. “I’d like,” he said, and picked up his cards.
“You’re going to lose. You’ll be buck naked in no time flat, big man.”
“If I lose, I’ll strip.” He lifted his gaze. “And if you lose…”
“I won’t lose.”
“If you lose…” he repeated, “you have to answer my questions.”
“Questions?”
All of which had been met with resistance so far, but he was a patient man. He had this wild, incredible woman alone on the beach with nothing but the water for company, and he was just smart enough to take advantage of it. “You’re not afraid of a few questions, are you, Cassie?”
“What about the strip part of the strip poker?”
“If it suits you.”
“It’s going to suit you.” She gestured to her cards. “I’ll take two.”
“Me, too.”
She accepted her cards then fanned them out and showed him a straight. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he tossed his cards away and peeled off his uniform shirt.
Her eyes flared as his bare chest came into view, and she made no attempt to hide the way she looked him over. “You’re in pretty good shape,” she murmured. “Considering.”
“Considering?”
“Your age.”
He barely managed not to sputter. “I’m hardly over the hill at thirty-two.”
“Maybe not, but studies do prove you are a decade past your prime. But I wouldn’t worry too much…” Again her eyes went on a little tour. He wondered if she’d notice he was hard as a rock. “You seem to be holding up. Deal the cards.”
Oh, he’d deal. “Holding?” he asked sweetly. He had a full house.
She laughed and slapped down one card. “Hit me once, but don’t hold on to your pants, cowboy. It’s nearly over for you.”
“All talk, Cassie,” he said softly, letting out a husky laugh when she shot him a saucy look.
“We already proved I’m not all talk,” she reminded him, her voice just as soft. “Or do you need another lesson?”
He dealt her another card and waited while she lifted a sly eyebrow, cocky as hell, so damned beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. “Isn’t that something,” he murmured.
Distracted with her cards, she didn’t look up. “What?”
“You look amazing when you smile for real.”
Her smile started to fade and he put a finger to her lips and shook his head. “Don’t stop,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she said, fanning out her cards for him to see. “Just be naked.”
She had two pairs. Studying them, he nodded seriously, then exposed his cards.
“Cheater,” she said to his full house.
“You know I didn’t cheat.”
“Yeah. Damn it.” A huff escaped her, and she was still shaking her head when she looked into his eyes and brought her fingers up to the knot beneath her breasts. The three buttons came next, leaving the white gauze open but still covering her breasts. “Lucky hand.” With a shrug, the material slipped off her shoulders. For a moment she held her hands over her breasts, then dropped them to her lap.
The blouse fell away, and since she wore nothing beneath it but glorious, generous curves, Tag sucked in a careful breath. “You…have to answer a question now.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to stick to that.”
“Yeah.” Her breasts were white and creamy, standing out in comparison to the rest of her tanned torso. More than anything he wanted to touch. To lean in and nibble. If he kept thinking along those lines, his pants were going to cut off his circulation. “Give me a sec, I’m having a bit of trouble thinking.”
Her nipples slowly hardened.
He swallowed hard and forced his gaze above her chin, remembering he’d done this for a reason. “Why do you hate that I’m a cop? Truth.”
She looked away. “I’d rather take a dare.”
“You going to welsh on me?”
Her eyes flashed hot. “It’s no big mystery, really.”
“Then tell me.”
She wrapped one arm around her bent knees, hunched over—blocking him from the incredible view of her breasts—and started drawing in the sand. “You might remember, I didn’t exactly have the most conventional of childhoods.”
Not with a mother who’d switched relationships like some switch shoes. Not with an entire town watching, waiting for her to fall on her face. “I remember.”
“You might also remember, my mother was—is—fond of men. We had a lot of them around. For the most part, I hated them all. They were weak and malleable. Led around by their egos. Except one. I thought he was different.” Her face hardened. “Turns out he was just like all the other penis-carrying humans. On prom night, he…” She closed her eyes. “He proved it. A*shole.”
“And he was a cop?”
“Yeah.”
God. Prom night… “Weren’t you with Biff?”
Her eyes shuttered and he shook his head. “No, don’t clam up, I never believed those stories he’s so fond of telling.”
“Let’s just say Biff wasn’t the problem that night.”
She’d been seventeen. Underage. Tag’s gut twisted. “What exactly happened?”
“Probably nothing as bad as you’re thinking. Let’s just say we disagreed on what I was willing to put out, so to speak.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
Not physically at least. “Cassie.”
Another shrug. “You know, to be fair to him, I did have quite the reputation. Being a Tremaine and all. It was no big deal.”
She’d been a minor, with someone she’d trusted, when trust had not come easy, and that cop had destroyed that trust. Fury bubbled, but she was looking at him with eyes that dared him to offer sympathy. “We going to play or what?”
Reaching out, he stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry, Cassie.”
“Water under the bridge.”
“No, it’s not.”
She let out a little laugh. “I know, a shrink would have a field day that I still hate a uniform. Sue me.” She grabbed the cards, shuffled and started dealing. “Anyway. End of story.”
Hell if it was. “Who was it?”
“That’s another question, and…” She looked over her cards. “You’ll have to win first. Which I don’t plan on letting you do.” She showed him her three queens. “What do you have?”
A damn pair of twos. He turned his hand to show her.
“Bummer.” Her gaze was glued to his body as he stood up and unzipped his pants. When he kicked them off and tossed them to where his shoes, socks and shirt already lay, she grinned. “I have to give it to you, Sheriff. You’re a man of your word.”
And that appealed to her, he could see that. With his uniform gone, she’d warmed up toward him, in a way that was warming him up, as well.
She’d sat back, resting her weight on her palms behind her. Beneath the glow of the stars, her bare breasts were offered up like a feast. “You’re also a man with the most incredible physique.” Leaning over, she ran a hand down his chest, swirled it around his belly button, then toyed with the elastic edging of his dark blue knit boxers.
He was already hard. He knew she was trying to seduce him to deflect more questions, and if she hadn’t been so incredibly sexy, it might have been infuriating. As it was, he didn’t have enough blood left in his brain to be infuriated. “Cassie—”
“My turn for a question,” she said softly, her finger just barely under the edge of his shorts. A fraction of an inch more and she’d meet hard, hot flesh. “Ever been in love, Tag?”
It was the last thing he expected her to ask. And with her finger now dipping into his shorts, he could hardly think. “Twice.”
Her eyes flickered. Disappointment? “Twice?”
“Kelly May Johnson.” Oh, yeah, definitely a flicker. Maybe even more.
Interesting, very, very interesting. Enlightened, he took his own finger on a tour, too; ran it up her arm, watching her nipples pebble tighter. “She was so pretty. Dark hair, heart-shaped face, petite little thing.” When his fingers ran over one soft shoulder and down her collarbone, she shivered, and slapped his hand away.
“You asked,” he reminded her, biting back his grin.
“My mistake.”
He brought his finger back to her collarbone and very carefully traced the very top of her breasts. “I was in fifth grade.” He laughed when she shot him a look. “She broke my heart at second recess when she left me for Tommy O’Mara.”
She grinned. “You were dumped.” Her grin went shaky when his finger danced down, down…right between her breasts now.
“And the second?” she asked a bit breathlessly.
He added his other fingers to the one skimming beneath a generous curve over her ribs, his thumb outstretched, just barely caressing the weight of a breast. “I was engaged a while back. Turns out it wasn’t love, just temporary lust. It passed.”
“I’ve never been in love,” she said, closing her eyes on a sigh at his caress. The rest of her hand slipped beneath the material of his shorts. “I’ve never mistaken lust for love.”
Tag wrapped his hand around her wrist just as she wrapped her fingers around him.
Their gazes met, Tag’s admittedly hazy. But he’d just realized something shocking. That no matter what she said, no matter how fierce and cool and wild she acted, she’d never been wanted, craved or needed for anything but the facade she gave people. She’d never been loved for the woman she was on the inside…Cassie Tremaine Montgomery.
Eyes on his, she fisted him. Stroked him. “Oh, yeah,” she breathed. “A very nice physique indeed. Are you going to get yours tonight, Tag? Or are you going to just watch me again?”
She wasn’t talking making love. She was talking sex. That’s how she wanted it, that’s all she knew. He understood that now. With sex she could keep it reined in, could control it.
The idea of giving up that tight control terrified her. But she would let go, he was bound and determined about that.
He would show her the way life was supposed to be. That a relationship went two ways. She could give what she wanted, but she would receive, as well. She could allow someone to care for her, even love her. She could share what was on the inside as well as the outside, and she could be safe while doing it.
But then she stroked him again, this time letting her thumb swirl over the very tip of him as she did, and he nearly lost it.
“Good?” she whispered.
He couldn’t find his tongue much less use it.
Her other hand dipped into his shorts, too, cupping him, causing him to suck in a hard breath. “Tag? Good?”
“You know it is,” he managed.
“I aim to please.”
Hmm. She could prove that. Later. But first he had a lot to show her. A whole lot. With a smile, he slid his hands up the backs of her legs to her perfect, edible butt. Gripping a cheek in each palm, he yanked.
With a gasp, she fell flat to her back on the sand. When she went to sit up, he towered over her, still smiling, thrilling to the way she licked her lips a little uncertainly, just before he claimed her mouth with his.