Cassie's Chance (4 page)

Manipulation

A mile of floor separated them. She started the journey, each step an echo of her increasing commitment to follow him. Her heart seemed to thump loudly in her chest.

Rangi's slim figure
had turned away from her, appearing fully engaged with Stephen. As she drew closer, she started to hear their conversation, something about painting.

But she knew he focused on her; his fingers beckoned her and s
he came, drawn in as on a line. He pulled her close, and kissed her lightly.

"It was lovely to meet you again," said Stephen. "I look forward to seeing your birds."

Cassie smiled. "The fish was exquisite. I'm pleased Rangi brought me here."

She felt his hand caress her fingers, teasing, barely-touching
them, but the storm of sensation they brought tore her focus from his uncle.

With pressure on her back, Rangi indicated she should precede
him, and she walked out to the entrance, knowing his gaze was drinking in every flex of her ass. And she knew she had a nice ass.

H
e stopped at the desk and spoke to Melanie.

His challenge
under the wharf had been startling and sudden. She wanted to prick his confidence with something equally in-your-face. But it couldn't be something she couldn't do, because inevitably she'd have to match him.

Cassie flicked her eyes to where Rangi leaned on the desk,
as Melanie laughed. She didn't know his weak points yet, and she needed something to take that smile off. He didn't really know her. He claimed to. She could challenge him about that.

Or could she? Her confidence started to sag.
It had been dumb to suggest she wanted to challenge him. She started to wonder how she could wriggle out of it.

She remembered her bag. She had to 'go home' with him to retrieve that,
but she could tell him she'd decided to take an early night. She could play that card. Get-out-of-jail.

Logically
, she could. If she remembered to, when he came close and sucked her soul tight to him with his paua-colored eyes.

She wouldn't remember anything
under his gaze, she knew.

Rangi was quite different from Pete, or anyone else she'd been involved with. He didn't seem to care if she liked him or not.
She'd come to Marsden Bay in a mood to dismiss all men. But Rangi wasn't from the same mold as the others.

When she wasn't with him, she was thinking of being with him. She wondered what he might do
, and what she wished he would.  Any more resistance didn't seem to make sense.

Small lights glowed along the path in places to mark the way, but she had to walk carefully. It was very dark under the trees.

He closed the door, and held her close.

"Now,
Cassandra, what is your challenge for me?"

Not for the first time since meeting him, she irrationally wanted a cigarette. She'd given them up for the holiday, in the hope she'd stay off afterwards. But one right now would certainly calm her.

Suddenly he kissed her, a long, lingering kiss on the side of her neck.

"When I want something, I want it, Cassandra," he whispered. "Isn't that true for you too?"

She froze, as his lips danced gently on her skin. A warm glow grew inside as he moved his hands down her back, tracing her spine.

She wanted to stay, to give in, to let him do whatever, but her eyes flicked to the photograph on the wall behind him.

"No," she burst out. She wasn't going to be forced onto her knees and tied up, and beaten and whatever else happened to girls who allowed that. She tried to tell herself to trust, but apprehension was overwhelming her.

He dropped his hands, but didn't pull away.

"No?" His eyes searched her face. "No, stop? Or no, keep going; your body can't believe how good this is getting?" The paua-green gleamed only inches away from her face.

"I'm . . ."

"I'll take you home if you want, right now. But if you want to go only because you are afraid, you should stay."

She swallowed. It seemed like he had crested the last rise and was looking down into her innermost stronghold. She dropped her eyes. She couldn't say she feared him; she didn't. She feared . . . the unknown.

"I was thinking about the girl in the photograph," she said. Briar, right? I know you told me she was ok about it, but she doesn't
look
ok. Does that make sense?"

Cassie wasn't sure it made sense herself. She breathed deeply, calmed herself.

"Cassandra."

How silkily her name sounded when he spoke it.

"Your hesitancy is your challenge to me, is that it? Then I will overcome it. There is one chance to seize a moment. You must let yourself do so." He lifted both hands and took her face between them, stroking it gently, whispering her name and his care for her.

His voice lulled her; she knew he
'd deliberately taken a soft approach. He wanted her full surrender, and she felt herself giving it. The gates were opening, she knew it. She couldn't stop them.

Her pussy
clamoured for her to let him have it; the warmth of arousal had become a knee weakening desire and when he picked her up, she didn't struggle.

He laid her on the bed,
kneeling next to her and bending low over her; his trace of beard played with her chin.

He undid her sandals, dropping them to the floor; he stroked her feet and her ankles, moving upward inexorably as her heartbeat seemed to magnify in her chest.

His hands left her legs at mid calf, below the lower edge of her dress, just as her thighs had started to tingle, and he brought his face close to hers again.

His scent filled her awareness
. She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him closer, kissing him passionately.

He pulled away, his hands curling around her
unrestrained breasts, feeling through the fabric for the nipples that lurked there.

They hardened under his touch, the electricity arced in her and she tried involuntarily, to roll away.

"Too much!"

"Sensitive kitten," he said, and sucked her peaks through the dress. She relaxed a little, the shock of the sharp jolt fading.

He drew lines on her face with his fingers; traced the edge of her mouth and she tried to lick him. He was too quick and his fingers escaped, only to return and give themselves up to be nibbled.

She licked the ends of his fingers, keeping hold of his eyes with hers and enjoying her body's awakening arousal.

She felt his warm breath on her ear lobe; his tongue touched it, caressed it and, mouth open, she writhed.

A
hand snaked to her dress hem; he dragged it up, exposing the sheen of the borrowed black boxers.

"Designer panties, I see."

"Marsden Bay," she replied, huskily.

His fingers found their way up the wide leg openings. H
e stroked her vee, feeling a stripe of fuzz and engorged folds. He ran a finger up and down the slit, barely touching it, until the juice leaked out to meet it. He pushed more firmly, diving between the hills and feeling the littler folds beneath.

He withdrew his hand and fingered its wetness.

"Someone's excited to see me," he said. I think I'll make another visit."

Back down he went; she felt his finger
wriggling in.

She flexed her hips, arching slightly, trying to capture the teasing thing
. He pushed in through the folds into her secret inner place and found her clit.

She
gulped air.

He stroked her face with his chin
, and invited her tongue to dance. It came out joyously, it's narrow tip playing catch and twist and tango around their nearly touching lips.

She reached up; her hand wanted hold of him and she cupped him through the denim.
Her fingers grasped his hardness, stroked it, fumbled for the zipper and couldn't get it down. His finger between her folds disturbed her concentration. She moved her thighs wider to make more playing room, and tried again to release his cock.

"Wait, Cassandra," he said.
Taking his hand from her nipple, he pulled hers from his crotch and laid it down. He massaged her labia again, rubbing her increasing wetness, and sliding it inside her, he stoked her G-spot a few times. The new layers of juice on his finger felt so good as he returned to her clit and stimulated it further.

She couldn't stop him now; she squeezed the nipple he wasn't playing with and moaned as the signs of impending orgasm grew in her groin. The vibrations spread out everywhere; she lost focus on his eyes and just breathed him in.

"Don't stop, Rangi, Don't stop. Make me cum!"

He did, with a final kiss and thumbing of her
nipple, her pussy clenched him, squeezed him, and pulsed around his finger as she came.

It engulfed her entire being, like a storm cloud that bursts and drenches everything. Soaked by it, overwhelmed, she gradually surfaced as it subsided, and opened her eyes. The sensuous warmth faded and her smile grew.

"Wow."

"Pleased you stayed, after all?"

He was a beast, asking a question like that, but she couldn't retort because his lips had found hers and her tongue had other work.

He pulled away, and wriggled off the bed, running a hand lightly down her face as her did. He smiled. He held out his hands and she reached up to take them.

Warm relaxing sensations rippled through her. She wanted to pull him down again and feel him close; she wanted to drag some clothes off him.

But he slid his fingers across her hands and let them go. He bent, and retrieved her sandals, strapping them on.

She lifted her head. She didn't know what he was doing. When he beckoned, stepping back a pace, she sat up, and swung her legs to the floor.

He pulled her up. Surprised, she didn't resist, and looked up into his eyes.

"Mmmmm. What now, Rangatira the chief?"

"Home time," he said.

She frowned, wanting more nuzzling.

"What do you mean
?"

He dropped her hands and turned for the door.
"I've really enjoyed your company. Grab your bag."

Cassie's eyes focused on the wall, on
that
picture. After psyching herself up, knowing what he was likely to do, he hadn't produced a single rope. She was certain it wouldn't be her thing, but she'd been willing to try, at least. And didn't he want to be played with? No guy turned that down.

She stood, confused. But she came up to the door and went out as he held it for her, giving her backside a slap as she went past.

"Ow!" Now she was annoyed.

"What was that for?

"A little something for next time, Cassandra." Suddenly he held her face and kissed her, slowly and deeply. She tried to mold into him, to arouse him, to change his mind about pushing her out. And he semed to like her advance, growling softly as he cupped her ass.

He stood upright again, grinning.

"Hungry little beastie," he said.

Yes, she was and his voice turned her on. Surely his stick was throbbing for her? But he pulled the door closed behind her and headed off towards the path that led up to the road.

She slumped against the seat of his truck, as the poorly silenced pick-up bore away from his bed.

Her pussy wanted him in it;
she couldn't believe she wasn't still lying under him, sans his shorts, or on top of him, where she'd imagined being, riding the cock he hadn't even shown her yet.

Her mouth formed itself into a pout, which he couldn't see in the dark, though he had his hand on her knee and was stroking it slowly. It was hard to hold a pout when he did that.

A graunch from the truck's gearbox grated in her ears as her changed down for the winding corners that led down to the waterfront. The smell of petrol or old oil filled the cab. The big catamaran she'd ridden on, to see the dolphins, had been much smoother.

She'd ask him in; she'd pull him close and smooch him until he got hot, and tell him he needed to carry her to the door. If she didn't let go, he wouldn't drop her, surely
? A hand around his package should convince him he should spend some more time in her company.

She wondered if she could do it.

But . . . her studio was the last place she had. He had already taken over her mind.

He stopped
the truck outside her studio, and turned to her. Cassie was ready, putting a knee up on the bench seat as she turned to him, almost crawling onto him and finding his lips with her mouth.

He absorbed her advance, and kiss, but when he broke for air, his hands were between them. A finger crossed her mouth.

"Shhh. Goodnight, Cassandra."

"You can come in," she said, hopefully, but her voice faltered.