Hmmm. That made me stop and think. I stopped listening to the flirty chatter and stared out the window. It did sort of make it cheating if I didn’t want more, right? I would have Googled the laws and rules of polygamy, but I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere. Becker didn’t practice it the way I’d seen on television or read about. From what I’d seen, he didn’t practice religion at all. It was about something else, something deeper that I hadn’t quite figured out yet. Something I didn’t understand.
I felt the excitement build when Mason keyed in the code. I missed him. I didn’t get to see him the night before. Matt decided I needed to sit in a hot car with him until seven at night. By the time I got home, I was exhausted.
Becker met us at the door and embraced me. “I missed you,” he whispered and then kissed me right in front of everyone. That brought the red out. He laughed and began the introductions. Mason wrapped both Chloe and Grace in his arms and introduced them to Justine with a smile. Becker did the same with his girls, only he didn’t let go of my hand to go to them the way Mason did.
I was glad for the light breeze. It made sitting out on the patio a lot more enjoyable. I sat on a chaise lounge, straddling it with my legs while watching the girls jump into the pool. Mason sat beside me, turning his attention to Justine, of course. I glanced at Becker cooking something on the grill and he winked at me. I smiled. Why did he have to be so perfect? Why did he have to be in love with so many girls? We could have been great together.
“Come on, get in here with us,” the girls called.
Justine and I both explained we didn’t bring our suits. Justine, of course, was a traitor and took the first offer to borrow one. I declined. I still wasn’t walking around scarcely dressed like everyone else. My self-esteem would probably never allow me to do that.
“Not a water bug?” Becker asked, sitting at the foot of my chair.
“Not really. You getting in?”
“Maybe, but you’re getting in with me.”
“No. I’m not. Your food’s burning,” I said, needing him to move on to something else and off the idea of me being half naked in front of all these people. It wasn’t happening. Becker laughed and patted my leg.
“He’s not cooking. I am,” Christina announced, sitting in the chair beside us and handing me a drink. “Ice cold strawberry daiquiri.” She smiled, handing it to me.
Becker moved his hand. Hmmm. No public display of affection. Then again, it was rather high.
“Thank you.” Christina made a mean drink, too.
“Hope you’re hungry. She made enough to feed a shelter,” Becker teased.
I watched the two of them, carefully observing how they interacted. Christina gave him the eye over the rim of her glass and licked the sugar, coating her tongue.
“I have never heard you complain about how many leftovers you have to feed your bottomless pit.”
Becker eyed her back with the smile that was mine. He wasn’t supposed to smile at her like that. I needed to believe that we had something, something that he didn’t share with them. The jealousy that empowered me that night while watching him with not one, but three other women made up my mind for me. That was the last night I was going to see him. There was no way I could do this. I wanted to claw their eyes out every time he touched one of them. Grabbing Alana around the waist, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder while jumping in the pool with her did it. I got up and walked in the house, nodding for Justine to follow me.
Justine attacked me as soon as I closed the door. “Oh my god, Cass. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she sang, jumping up and down.
“Get off me,” I said, pushing her away from kissing me multiple times on the cheek.
“I love you and I love Mason.”
“Yeah, well don’t get comfortable. I’m done. I’m not seeing Becker anymore.”
“What do you mean? You’re not done. You have to see him. How am I supposed to see Mason if you don’t? I’ve heard this a hundred times over the last month. You’re not done and you know it.”
“Justine, we’re not getting involved with these people.”
“These people? I love these people. I don’t get it. What happened? You were fine when we got here?”
“No, I wasn’t. I haven’t been fine since I got here, and nothing happened. I’m just not getting tangled up with Becker Cole. I can’t see him after tonight.”
“Let’s just see how the rest of the night goes. It’s early. Don’t be a party pooper,” Justine whined, dropping her teeny tiny borrowed bikini and squatting to the toilet.
Justine fit in more than I did. Everyone could tell that she and Mason were flirting. Nobody cared, nobody but me. I was quieter than normal, listening to the chatter of Mason, Becker, and six prattling girls, giggling like they were all best friends. This wasn’t real life. People didn’t do this. Why did they think this was acceptable?
I rolled my eyes when Justine made plans with Chloe to highlight her hair. She was eating this shit up, but I knew Justine. This was about the money. This was about more than Mason. She had a motive.
“You’re not yourself tonight. What’s going on?” Becker asked later in the evening.
The sun had vanished over the tree tops and darkness was falling upon us. Mason lit a round fire pit in the middle of the patio. The pool lights came to life and soft colors sprinkled the bottom.
“Yup, this is me,” I said, not looking over to him. I smiled, pretending to be interested in the conversation Justine was now having with Britney. I wasn’t really paying attention—something about cuticles and cold cream, I think.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Becker. I’m just tired. I think we’re going to head out.”
“I’ll drive you.”
Great.
Great again.
Justine wasn’t going. Mason offered to give her a lift. Of course, he did. They weren’t ready to stop partying yet. They were making their way back to the pool when we left. I felt like a spoil sport, raining on the picnic when Alana hugged me.
“It’s a lot to take in, but you can if you let it,” she said into my hair after a quick embrace.
I nodded. The girls all happily said goodbye to me. I was the only one feeling like shit. They were having a grand ole time. I was going home alone to my black cat and my beautiful new surroundings. I was glad. I didn’t want to be there anyway.
“Are you going to talk to me now?” Becker asked, backing us out his drive.
“Talk about what? I’m just tired. I’ve had a busy week at work.” That wasn’t a lie. Matt was determined to catch the merchandise imposters. That was the night we worked late. He had to wait and see the cops take them down, saying he had too many hours wrapped up in it to not see the payoff. I was mad. I wanted to see Becker, and now I just wanted him to take me home.
“Fine. We won’t talk,” he caved. That’s not what caught me off guard. He ran his hand up my dress. I was a lot taken aback. Becker didn’t stop at my leg he kept moving right to my suddenly awakened sex. “Spread your legs.”
“Becker,” I protested, already letting my leg fall to the side a little. “What the hell?”
“What? You said you didn’t want to talk.”
“You’re driving. You’re going to wreck us,” I half-ass complained. I didn’t mind if we wrecked. People do it every day.
“I’m not going to wreck us. I’m going to play with your pussy the entire drive back to your house, because I have been dying to touch you all night.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I did to a certain point. I don’t want to cause any unneeded animosity between the girls. I show them how much I love them behind closed doors.”
“Yeah, sure you do,” I said, moving his hand. I didn’t want to wreck anymore. He just had to go and talk about what he did to someone who was not me, behind closed doors.
“Cassie. What is wrong?”
“Nothing. I just can’t do this. I don’t want to see
you anymore, Becker.”
“Why? You’re not giving it a chance. You could have jumped in the pool and had a good time with the rest of us tonight. You chose to sit there like a clock watcher and sulk. Justine didn’t seem to have a problem.”
“Maybe you should hook up with her,” I countered.
“Fine. You should probably keep doing what’s acceptable anyway.”
I didn’t respond. There really wasn’t anything to say. I stared out the window instead, willing the drive to go faster. This was easier than I thought it was going to be. Becker flipped on the radio and we listened to the ten o’clock news. The story in which I helped the cops catch the bad guys made the top three. I almost got excited, wanting to tell Becker, but then I remembered I wasn’t talking to him.
“You don’t have to get out,” I said a second too late. I stayed seated while Becker walked to my side of the car.
Sliding out of his Land Rover, I feared the grueling test of physical and mental fortitude. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.
Shit. I looked.
“I’m sorry, Cassie.”
“No, Beck. Don’t be sorry. This is my hang-up, not yours.”
“I don’t know how else to keep you, Cass. I don’t want to lose you. I love being with you.”
“You don’t have time for me, Becker.”
“I do, Cassie. Let me show you. Please,” he begged, pulling me close to him.
Damn. Damn. Damn. What the hell happened to operation courage?
Becker leaned in, leaving hot breaths on my lips. He kissed me softly at first and then harder. My arms wrapped around his neck and his went around my waist. “Let me come in,” he panted, kissing and sucking on my neck.
Okay. Come on in.
“I just told you I didn’t want to see you anymore,” I breathed in rapid breaths, hoping he insisted.
“You didn’t mean it. Come on.”
And there went my willpower. I held his hand and he led me inside my house, locked the door and guided me to my room. I wanted to protest. I needed to protest. Everything in me was telling me to stop this. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted Becker Cole. How could something so wrong feel so amazing?
Chapter 17
Becker slid the strap of my sundress over my shoulder and kissed my throat. God. Why did he have to feel like this? His soft, hot lips whispered sweet words to my skin. They were telling my clitoris to throb like mad. Sliding my dress up, his hands made their way up the back of my legs, my ass, and my waist until it was over my head and a pile on the floor. I uncontrollably pressed my chest to his wondering lips, wanting the attention on my perky nipples. He obliged.
“Hmmm.”
“You like that?” he spoke, pulling my nipple between his lips.
“Mmmm,” I moaned. I couldn’t speak. There were no words, only divine pleasure.
“Take your clothes off and lay down. I have a surprise for you,” he explained. Kissing my lips, he pinched my nipples hard between his fingers and I watched him walk away.
I looked around the room that didn’t feel like mine anymore and slid my panties down. What was he doing? What surprise? I could hear him shuffling around the kitchen. Was he in the refrigerator?
I jumped, startled when I didn’t hear him come back. “Lay down, baby,” he requested, moving me to the bed with his body.
I smiled when I felt the cold object on my back. He had a toy. A cold toy.
“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling his smile on my lips.
“Roll over,” he beckoned.
I, of course, did as I was told. I will be strong tomorrow.
Becker ran the cold object around my collarbone. I jumped from the coldness. I still hadn’t gotten a look at what it was, but could tell it was a hard plastic in the shape of a penis without the head. Goosebumps rose on my skin as he made his way down my ridged spine and to the crack of my ass. I could still feel the coolness down the straight line he’d traveled on my back. Okay, this wasn’t just any toy. I felt the cold droplets like melting ice run down the slit between my cheeks. Holding my breath as he moved it closer to my aching sex, I tilted my hips, inviting the cold object closer.
Ahhh, yeah. There it is. Right there.
Wait.
No.
Back. Back.
Becker teased my pulsating clit briefly with the icy toy, pressing just enough to get a reaction. Damnit. That felt great. I lay still while Becker fumbled with the snap on his jeans, keeping the object dripping cold drops to my back. I tried to turn toward him, but he stopped me with his hand in my hair.
“Don’t move, Cassie,” he ordered in a rasp.
I wanted to turn. I wanted to see.
He stroked himself, rubbing his shaft along my back, pressing his hips in as if he was fucking me. Jesus. I wanted to see. “You want this in your pussy?” he asked, holding the cold object to my opening.
Could I talk yet?
“Mmmm.” Nope. Still no words. Moving it in a little, the cool drops mixed with my warm juices caused it to slide in with ease when I backed up to it. Becker rose to his knees and spread my legs with his and lifted my hips, just a little. If I could have talked, I may have protested the exposure. Nah, I wouldn’t have. Becker was giving me a chance to step out of my comfort zone. He was throwing me out.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Cassie,” he commented, sliding the cold tool deep into my pussy.
It was melting. I could feel the cold run out and fall to the bed. Great. My ass was stuck up in the air and he was telling me how beautiful I was. I still wanted to turn around. I knew he was stroking himself. I could feel it hit the pucker of my ass every so often.
Finally, after he had me at the brink of an O, he told me to roll over. He wanted to see my face when he made me come. Just hearing him talk like that made me want to come. I would have never in a million years thought Becker Cole was even capable of talking like that. He was, and he was capable of a lot more. A lot more. Becker Cole had an interesting closed door. My “what goes on behind closed doors” consisted of relieving needed tension a couple times a week with my fingers.
My eyes first went to the object he was sliding in and out of me. It was a plastic purple tube filled with frozen water. Becker removed it and held it above my clit, kicking my legs out more. I wish I could describe the look on his face, the expression in his eyes, the lust that filled every inch of his face. There was nothing, not one person or thing on his mind, but me. Taking great pleasure in what he was doing, he was there to please me.
“Spread your lips,” he whispered.
That’s when I noted the tiny hole at the end of the cold toy. It dripped to my clitoris, hitting my warm nub, making it beg for release. I did everything the man told me to do. I would have licked his toes had he asked me to, and I hate feet.
Sliding it back, deep inside me a couple times, he brought it to my mouth. I parted my lips and felt the drip. Becker slid it between my lips and across my tongue. I tasted myself, mixed with the cold water that time. Keeping my mouth in the O form, Becker slid it in and out, fucking my mouth while he stroked his massive erection, tapping my clit with every prod.
Letting him fuck my mouth with my new favorite toy, I put on a show, licking the tip and taking it to the back of my throat. Becker’s lustful expression went into overload. He moved his hand down, dipped his middle finger deep inside me and pounded like a crazy man. Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump, in and out.
That did it. I screamed, literally screamed when he removed his hand and I squirted, feeling a rush of something unfamiliar and oh so fucking amazing. I’d read about women squirting in magazines. Was that my G-spot?
“Ahhhhhhhh, fuuuuuuuuuuuk,” I shuddered, shivering from head to toe. What the fuck was that? My arms fell flat out, my legs dropped, my tense, arched back relaxed and I fell, collapsing out of control. I’m sure it was less than a minute, but it felt like hours before I was coherent enough to be embarrassed. Shit. Becker??
?s stomach and hand was coated with the clear slippery substance. My substance. Oh my god.
That wasn’t the lustful expression I was hoping for. He looked distraught, looking from his hands to my face. My startled, what the fuck, face. Googling local places that taught sign language in my head, I waited for him to speak. Once again, my words failed me.
Becker placed both his hands above my head, leaned down and kissed me with more emotion than I was expecting. The look in his eyes was the most dangerous thing I’d ever been that close to. He was in love with me. I was in love with him.
My eyes closed when I felt him move in. I tensed from his size for a second and he stopped, giving me a moment before moving in a little more. Becker did what he did the last time, only different. He still turned me in every movable position, but it was ten times more intense. Every move he made was in slow motion. He didn’t roll me to my stomach by power. It was inch by inch, slowly, with one nonstop kiss.
We did everything. I mean everything. He moved down my body like a graceful ballerina, and lovingly assaulted my clitoris. Although it wasn’t like the orgasm that had just brought me to my knees, it was still amazing. Prancing delicately up my body, Becker slid the head of his cock between my lips. I stared at the head of his beautiful member and licked his slit, stringing pre-come from my tongue. I sucked it off and moaned.
Cupping his balls in my hand, I massaged, taking him as far back in my throat as I could manage. This was the most erotic blowjob in history. Becker towered above me holding his cock in his hand, guiding it slowly in and out. Every movement of his hips, dipping inside my mouth sent chills throughout my body.
By the time we had finished, an hour of pure ecstasy had passed. We fucked, sucked, kissed, and licked for almost an hour. My body had endured four explosive orgasms, including the messy one that I hoped Becker didn’t mention. We finished with him on top, holding my hands above my head in his. Becker didn’t pull out. He dove in more and shot warm bouts deep inside me. I didn’t even protest. What was the use? I was already doomed. May as well die of some sort of venereal disease. Maybe I’d donate my body to science to help with a cure for some horrific disease.