I shake my head. “It’s a long one. Besides . . . he, um, took a leave of absence to go to rehab.”
I know my statement is going to raise more than one question, but it’s unavoidable. I can’t exactly tell Cav that the mob made my uncle disappear as a favor to my brother, and no one really misses him much. Not exactly casual lunch conversation. Besides, the family mob connection isn’t one that I’m even allowed to speak about. It’s been kept under wraps for over thirty years, and no one is going to bring it to light now.
The rehab story was the best solution for my uncle’s absence. Everyone knows he was a functional alcoholic, and it was only a matter of time before he lost the “functional” piece. It’s a measure of exactly how little he was liked that no one questioned it or asked for an address so they could visit.
“That must be hard on your family,” Cav says, his tone sympathetic. “I remember you saying your parents had passed when you were a baby?”
“Good memory. I didn’t know either of them. I was mostly raised by nannies, and occasionally my aunt. Creighton came home as much as he could, but he was away at school. I don’t think he ever would have come home, though, had it not been for me.”
“That explains the headlines a while back when things went to shit between your uncle and your brother.”
I ate another shrimp before replying. “No love lost there, that’s for sure.” Understatement of the century. “But I’d rather talk about you. My life is boring, and you’ve heard most of it already.”
“It’s not boring. I want to know you, Greer. This isn’t just us fucking.”
My heart clenches when he says exactly what I want to hear. But how much of it can I trust? He pulled his own disappearing act before, and I still haven’t worked up the guts to demand the full explanation. But I will. I need to know, need to understand, before I can trust him again. And I want to trust him so badly, I can taste it.
I let the questions slide for now, not wanting to shatter the idyllic day by getting an answer I don’t want to hear. Am I burying my head in the sand? Absolutely. But for now, just for a little while, I want to pretend that everything’s perfect.
After we clear our plates, I settle onto a raft, and Cav finds the stereo system and cranks up some reggae. This is paradise.
But why do I feel like it’s the calm before the storm?
I’m in love with a shower. Well, not the shower itself, but how Cav lifts me so effortlessly and plunges his cock inside me over and over while the water beats down on us both. Digging my nails into his shoulders, I struggle to hold on to him and the words that want to fall from my lips.
That I need him. I’m dying for him. I need his cock and the orgasm he’s been teasing me with for the last ten minutes.
“Please,” I say on a moan. “Please.”
“You’re not gonna come until I say you can come.”
Cav’s dominance is revving my senses in unexpected ways. I’m more daring, sassier, pushing against his boundaries and the limits of pleasure. Every sensation is enhanced a dozen times over. The spray of the water, the thrust of his cock, and the pressure on my clit. I want to come like I’ve never wanted to come before, and it’s all because he’s told me I can’t.
“Please,” I beg again. “I need—”
“You need me fucking you the way I want to give it to you.” He pulls me down on his shaft and I grind my clit against his lower abs, determined to steal this orgasm whether he wants me to or not. My brain is in pursuit of pleasure and won’t be denied.
It’s rolling through me, but I hold back the scream. Like a thief, I latch on to the climax and let it crash down on me. My inner muscles convulse on his cock and Cav freezes, pinning me to the wall with his intense stare and muscles gone rigid.
“You naughty little girl. I told you not to come, but you didn’t listen.”
My body is buzzing with the orgasm, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. He can’t take it back.
Feeling bold, I wink. “What are you going to do about it, Hollywood?”
Heat burns in his gaze. “Teach you a lesson.”
My pussy clamps down on his cock instinctively. Yep, my body likes the idea of Cav teaching me a lesson just a little too much. He doesn’t miss the squeeze either.
Shaking his head slowly, Cav tightens his grip on my ass with both hands. “We’re done with this shower.” He turns to the open section in the tile enclosure and lifts me off his cock before lowering me to my feet. His eyes never leave mine as he shuts off the water, grabs a towel, and wraps it around me.
A shred of apprehension forms in my stomach. What is he going to do?
Cav can read me too easily, because his lips form a forbidding smile. He doesn’t reach for his own towel, just grasps my upper arms and rubs them through the terrycloth, drying me wordlessly, his cock still hard and ready.
The shred of apprehension grows.