Cassie's Chance (5 page)

"I know."

"I challenge you." She should have thought of that one earlier.
Cassie touched her fingertips to his face, triumphant.

Got him!

Lost and found

Rangi responded to her challenge immediately. She heard
the grin in his voice, and his teeth gleamed in the near-dark.

"Accepted.
But not tonight, girl."

She listened as the truck's engine note died away in the night, and
he shoulders slumped. She felt used, yet it had been her who'd had the orgasm. She flopped on her bed, out of ideas. Maybe things would be clearer once she'd slept. If she could, her mind troubled as it was.

She did, of course, but it didn't help clear things.

As her room lightened, she decided to swim. The day had opened with a grey sky, and an early nip chilled her as she left the studio. She wasn't going to look for him, and it was hopefully too early to be surprised down by the boats. She didn't think she wanted to see him anyway.

A large motor yacht
stood anchored off the beach. There and back was a good target. She started for it, but the yacht was further away than she'd estimated. Her workout took a while and she didn't stay in once reaching the beach again.

She glanced at the cats, still snuggled against the sea wall. He wasn't there. Disappointed, but pleased at not having to fight with herself about surrendering to him, she walked back to get some breakfast. Part of her desired him; part of her didn't.

Cassie wasn't going to think about it.

She stayed inside and finished
Two hours after sunset,
a most unsatisfactory romance, but downloaded another that promised to be much raunchier:
Bound to please,
a story about binding and submission. She started it. The girl had some feisty in her, Cassie was pleased to see.

Movement at the window caught her eye, and she laid aside
the Kindle. She went to the door.

A piwakawaka
was flitting around busily under the overhanging roof. It didn't settle so she could get a good look at it, but swooped into the garden and around the flax. She walked out to the edge of the terrace to watch. The fantail wouldn't take fright like the tui might have if it had sensed her. It came back, and flew close to her, perhaps in the hope she'd disturbed a little something that might provide a snack.

Cassie stayed on the terrace after it had
disappeared in search of better pastures. She relived the moment. She loved the way a fantail would circle around you in the bush, almost close enough to touch. She had made several paintings and sketches of piwakawaka in the past. The cheeky Marsden Bay visitor was a good subject for another.

She moved herself to the table and sketched a composition.

Her thoughts turned to Rangi. He'd been keen to admit he'd come looking for her at the hotel while she was out on the water. She expected he'd call in after finishing work; if she didn't go down to see him on the beach. And she wasn't. He could come to her.

Cassie got the paints and continued her fantail as the afternoon wore on.
She'd drawn a tree branch extending under the veranda roof, and had located the bird on it, head cocked, watching the viewer.

As
dusk forced her to finish painting, due to lack of light, anticipation took the place of disinterest.

He'd be finished soon.
She'd decided she'd tell him she
was
happy he saw her, but only if he stopped playing her. She didn't like being on the back foot continually, although being surprised and taken to dinner and dragged home like a trophy had been exciting.

But if there was going to be a physical relationship - and there was, obviously - she wanted more of a say about when and what.

The evening dragged. She'd tidied up until there was nothing else to do. Cassie walked to the road and stood in the darkness, staring toward the lights reflecting off the bay. It had got too damn late to go anywhere, and she felt pissed. He hadn't said he wasn't coming. He hadn't said he
was,
either, but he would have known she expected him to.

Another day, another bus, another girl
off it to take skinny-dipping? She wasn't going to let it affect her.

She
closed her door to the world, grabbed the Kindle and laid down.
Bound to please
had pricked her interest. She tapped the ads away and embraced Eartha's awakening in BDSM. 

***

Stephen wasn't there when she arrived, late morning, at Marsden Bay Art's gallery. He was expected very soon. Cassie thanked Rachel, his assistant, and investigated some of the other things they had on show. She'd seen most of the paintings, but there was plenty of amusing local kitsch.

"Hello, Cassandra." A now-familiar voice in her ear brought an excuse to stop examining corrugated steel sheep, and she went with Stephen to the counter so she could give him a look at her work.

Stephen's pale green eyes twinkled at her."You're very talented," he said quietly. He held up the watercolour paper at arm's length to get another look at her tui, and moved so more light fell on it.

"I hope you'll let me frame it for you and put it up.
Even if just to show. You don't have to mark it for sale if you'd prefer not."

Cassie felt a warm glow of satisfaction. "You can sell it," she said. "I can paint another. I love painting birds. They're so alive."

She hadn't brought the fantail. It wasn't finished, and she wasn't sure it was coming out right. But the little bird had inspired her to capture him, and if she had to begin again, she would.

Back at the studio, she opened her laptop.
While on the all-day cruise, she'd heard a promotion for half a day of swimming with dolphins. No island visiting, just dolphins, and lots more time swimming. It sounded just what she needed.

Cassie phoned them
. She couldn't get in until the following Thursday, in the afternoon. So she'd have to decide if she wanted to stay longer. She'd think about it.

She wondered if she'd find him on the wharf again. She shrugged. Unpredictability was the man's modus.

Vicky had emailed. Her flatmate was curious. How many men had she dated since going on holiday? The girl was a riot. Cassie decided to call her.

"Hey, how's
Marsden Bay?" said Vicky.

Yes, the weather was wonderful. How many clear blue skies did one need? OK, there had been strong wind
, and two of her four days had been too chilly for swimming, but Cassie wasn't going to mention the negatives.

She listened as Vicky mentioned work, and then hit her with it.

"So spill: who have you invited back to the apartment?"

"No-one!"
Well, that wasn't exactly true. She'd crawled over his lap, but he hadn't come in.

"
Actually," she told Vicky, "There hasn't been anyone in my apartment since I got here."

Cassie frowned.
She knew it wasn't for want of trying.

"Girlfriend,
" said Vicky breezily, "you should get out more. I bet there are guys on the beach just waiting for you."

She
burbled on for a while, telling Cassie she needed to move on from Pete, and let her hair down.

"Be adventurous," she said. "You never know what might happen."

Cassie wandered outside, carrying the phone, and let her friend's voice patter on. She did have to move on. She'd come to Marsden Bay to get over the past, and now she was worrying about someone else, who seemed to be simply amusing himself at her expense.

A dull roar in the street drew her eye. Rangi's truck! The door squealed and banged shut. His smile grew larger as he came through the gateway and walked up the path through the garden.

He'd seen her. Cassie dragged a panicked hand through her hair.

"Um, I have to go, Vicky," she interrupted. "Someone's just come to see me. I'll tell you later."

Her legs felt weak. She sank down onto a chair at the table. She didn't have her sunglasses; she couldn't hide her eyes. She wondered what he'd say by way of apology for leaving her hanging.

Up the terrace steps he came in a bound,
then under the magnolia, and over to the table. The width of it lay between them.

"H
i, Rangi, how come you're not working?" His presence awed her. His work tee draped over the top of his shorts, the bulge in them just visible above the table.

She dragged her eyes up to his face as he spoke.

I told Uncle I needed time to come see you, so he's minding the boats. He doesn't have much to do at the gallery, or at the restaurant, really. He's got plenty of staff, eh?

She didn't do roller-coaster stuff well.
"And how come you didn't come to see me yesterday? I was here painting. I'm just up the road, after all."

She wanted her voice to sound neutral, but petulance had crept in.
Too bad if he noticed.

"I
wasn't down in Marsden Bay yesterday," he said.

Cassie looked down. He didn't
know she hadn't looked for him. More than that, she'd left the beach early, avoiding any possibility they'd connect.

"I had a day off,
and stayed home, Cassandra. I'm not going to chase after you every moment.

"I'd agreed to do some painting in the restaurant
," he told her. "It turned into an all-day job, and by opening time, I was beat. So I just had some drinks with Uncle. He has a big TV in the bar.

He shrugged. "I
figured you could use some space, anyway. You had your angry puss face on when I dropped you off here a couple nights ago."

Egotistical prick.

Rangi slid his glasses up.
"I came to tell you I'll be away a couple of days. So you'd know and wouldn't worry if I wasn't around."

"Worry?" She swallowed. "Why would I do that?"

He smiled broadly. "I know you've been thinking about me. Probably constantly. But that's ok. I'll be back soon; day after tomorrow."

Rangi, you do not
own
me," she said, with as much defiance as she could manage.

H
e ignored the spit in her voice and the flames in her eyes, dragging a chair out to sit opposite her.

"
This is what's happening. My Dad rang. Some fellow who chartered a boat got sick and I'm helping crew it back to Whangarei. Leaving first thing tomorrow. Guy's going to manage the hire boats."

"Guy?"

"That's his name."

So this was
sayonara?
The start of the slow drift away from a connection he no longer wanted. At least she knew.

"You didn't have to come and tell me," she said
, listessly.

"I know," he said.

"So why did you really come? A last look at your latest plaything?" She was determined she was not going to cry, as his sexy voice washed over her. She couldn't have him, and her body could quit responding.

He stood, abruptly, and in a stride was beside her, his hands on her shoulders, then her face. She flushed as the electricity hummed between them.

"I wanted to make sure you were ok," he said. "When you got out of the truck, you might have just been annoyed you didn't get your way. But you might have been really upset."

""Um, I'm fine," she said, her vagina muscles clenching involuntarily at the memory of his touch.

"I can see you are." He grinned. "I also wanted another look at your face, so I'd have it fresh in my mind while I'm out on the yacht.

"And . . ."

What else did he want? But the attention was warming her.

"I'd like to
see that bird, if you'll show me."

Concern crossed her face."I don't have it, now. I dropped off the tui at the gallery. Your uncle's going to frame it."

"Good." He bent and kissed her cheek."I can wait. I've got plans for when I get back, by the way. Ever been jet-skiing?"

Cassie looked into the eyes she adored. "No, but I've often thought I'd like to."

"A date then," he said, replacing his shades. "And this time, you can't tell me we didn't plan it."

She slumped in the chair as his back retreated down the steps and jogged to the street. She felt stretched out, twanged like a guitar string
; drained. Wiped out.

But he cared. Tears formed in t
he corners of her eyes and she wiped them with a flick. He cared. He wasn't just a jerk. She guessed she had herself a guy.

In or out?

Cassie didn't feel like swimming in the morning. She didn't feel in the mood for much at all. Rangi wasn't coming back for another two days.

I
t was stupid to feel out-of-sorts over that, and she berated herself; the telling off didn't increase her appetite for painting, especially after she'd looked at the fantail and decided it wasn't salvageable. She'd got the pose wrong, somehow.

Too much thinking about Rangi.

She wasn't in the mood to start the painting again. She went back online, and decided to book another distraction. The Cape Reinga trip, through Northland to the top of New Zealand and back along the beach with sand-boarding included, seemed ideal. She could take it the next day, and that solved the problem of what to do.

After that, she went in search of Suzanne. She'd decided to stay the extra week. Offered coffee, she gratefully accepted
.

She spent an enjoyable half hour, and when she mentioned the Northland tour
to Suzanne, gave herself a smile. If Mr Chief Rangi wanted to know where she was when he returned from Whangarei, he could find out. Suzanne encouraged her to try the sand-boarding as she said her grandkids had had great fun doing it the previous summer.

Cassie left the hotel and walked down
to the gallery. Her painting wasn't hanging. Rachel said Stephen wasn't coming in.

She went down to the sand, not to swim, just to walk. There was a figure by the catamarans, and her heart leaped. He was there? She could see it wasn't Stephen, but then the figure disappeared behind the boats.

She had to investigate. She'd thought he was away. Maybe the yacht delivery had been cancelled. Had he made up a story to cover . . ? She stopped her march across the sand. Surely not?

She had to find out; she wasn't staying away and staying ignorant. She walked more purpose
fully, up between the boats, and he was sitting there, slouched against the seawall, cap down over his eyes.

He
was Maori, but he wasn't Rangi.

The young man looked up, and
she saw he admired her; she knew he admired her. He scrambled to his feet, and she backed off a pace. She saw him considering her. Eartha knew she didn't want his hands anywhere near. She thought he could put his eyes somewhere else too, and was glad she had on loose jeans and a baggy tee shirt so there was nothing he could oggle.

He was too unattractive; too young
, too everything.

"Rangi's away," he said.
"I'm Guy."

"Yes," she admitted, "he said
you'd be here."

"He's back tomorrow, late.
If they get good wind. Otherwise Wednesday. Did you want a windsurfer?"

Cassie shook her head, feeling silly she'd rushed over there. She decided to walk back
to the studio.

Her bus for Northland left at seven
-thirty, so she was out of the house early. The early sun cast a long shadow of her across the road as she went to the wharf to join the tour.

As the bus climbed the hill and headed north, she sat back and relaxed. She wouldn't be back in Marsden Bay for nearly twelve hours. Had she told him she was going? No, she hadn't decided until after he'd gone. But he could ask Suzanne, and he probably would.

It was a fabulous day. Even getting sand in everything, through all her layers, didn't spoil the enjoyment of rushing on her stomach on a board down an enormous dune. And North Cape, leaving place of Maori spirits, was a wind-blown but moving experience.

After that, the afternoon dragged somewhat, as the ride
back stretched into early evening. When the bus finally nosed its way slowly along Marsden Bay's waterfront, Cassie looked forward to getting out and having a good stretch. She gathered her things together.

She wondered if he'd found good wind, if he'd got home
yet, and if he'd decided to seek her out.

It didn't matter either way. She didn't think she had energy for a night out. But when the bus air-brake hiss
died away, and the door swung silently open, he was there; she could see him as she stepped carefully down and out into the late golden sun.

Heart pounding, she accept
ed his embrace, and let him slip her bag off her shoulder.

"My place, or yours,
" he asked.

She gave him a tired smile. "Y
ou don't want to know where I've got sand; I want a shower. And I'm tired. Take me back to my place."

Rangi nodded. His truck wasn't far, and he drove her up the street.

"I'll wait," he said. "Take your time."

Cassie wondered what to wear. Her jeans were grubby now, and so was the sun dress. She had some long khaki shorts and a loose dark-red viscose top. She escaped to the bathroom. Rangi could wait, or not.

She took a while, but felt renewed. She went out to the terrace, smiling when she saw him standing there, looking down toward the bay.

She folded into his arms. No longer conscious of her own condition, she noticed his scent, fresh and crisp.

"In, or out," he asked.

She reached up and kissed him lightly.
"In, if there's a choice. It was a long day. I don't have much food though."

"
There's always takeaways," he said. "And I'm not hungry right now."

"I do have drink," she continued. "When I moved in, there w
ere two beers and a bottle of wine in the fridge. I don't drink, as you know, so they are still there. Want one?"

"I'll have yours
as well," he said, and sat at the table on the terrace while she brought the beer, and tonic water for herself.

He told her about
his trip; an uneventful delivery of a very nice yacht, the sort he wouldn't mind owning if he won the lotto, and she shared her day, and told him about loving the wind in her face at North Cape as she'd thought about all the Maori who according to myth had passed through there.

"It's a s
acred place," he said.

She nodded.
"Feels like it."

They laughed when she told him about going to the beach and thinking he was still by the boats and finding it was only Guy, and then not being attracted.

He doesn't do much for me either," said Rangi. He put the second empty bottle down with a deliberately slow move, looking into her eyes.

"Last question, girl. Shall I stay or go?"

"Stay," she whispered.

He nodded
, leaning back. "But Cassandra, I don't have any . . . accessories. You'll have to make do with just me tonight. Can you cum without being tied up and flogged?" His tongue flicked out and wriggled at her, inviting her to taste its pink wetness.

H
e had to be teasing. She didn't know if she wanted any of that stuff. "I've never experienced
accessories,"
she admitted.

His eyes narrowed. "You surely have a vibrator."

"Well . . . yes."

"Anything else, girl?"

"I'm not kinky," she told him firmly.

"No?" He definitely looked amused; his gaze disconcerted her.

"What about a butt plug, nipple clamps, or a set of ben wa balls?"

Cassie bit her lip.

He pushed the bottles over towards her. "Put these away, and let's go inside."

She
took the glasses and bottles inside, and crossed to the bench. Before she could turn from the sink, however, he was right behind her, and drew his hands down her sides.

She felt his fingers slide over
the silkiness of her top. She pressed herself back into him, wanting to feel his cock against her ass and leaned back into his chest.

She didn't resist as his
hands reached the top's hem, and drew it up; she let him pull it off her and throw it onto a chair. She smiled as she felt him unclasp her bra, and she tossed it onto the top.

She
turned. Rangi caressed her face, holding her between his hands, fingers sliding over her skin.

S
he placed her hands on his chest, dragging them down, lower and lower, while she held his gaze. She wondered if he'd pull her hands away again, because she wasn't going to stop unless he did. She started to pull his tee shirt up; he let go her face, crossed his arms, grabbed hold and yanked it off, not watching where it fell.

"Cassandra, you desirable
creature," he growled, and reached for the waist of her khakis.

She loosened the top button for him, and then
reached his belt and started to undo it, jerking it back to release the pin, and then letting it go.

He
found the zip on the khakis, and drew it down, just as she undid the stud and pulled his shorts apart.

"Careful, you'll catch my hair." He stepped
back, and with a quick movement, shucked the shorts, stepping out of them as they hit the floor, and kicking the white material aside.

"
Mmmm, she said, looking down at the view."

"Well, you have my boxers."

"Your only pair? Surely not." Her smile curled to tease him.

"Let's see what you're wearing, shall we," he said by way of an answer. He stretched for the waist of her shorts, with both hands, and
hooking her panties, drew them clear of her hips and let them go. The clothes fell away and she stood as naked as he.

"Nothing, it looks like," Rangi said. He picked her up and carried her a few feet, seating her on the bed's duvet-covered edge. His cock
rose full in her face; engorged, veined, quivering.

"You wanted to see this some nights ago,
" he said, breathing heavily. "Show me what you had in mind. I can lie down if you prefer."

She shook her head; she already had him
loosely in both hands, her eyes sliding over his groin and up. She stared at what she held, her mouth open, her moist tongue scenting the air.

She looked up at him, eyes full of desire.

The opening was leaking; she wet her thumbs there and smoothed them down the shaft.

He shifted slightly on his feet; he stroked her hair.

Cassie felt the hot pulse as she tightened her grip and slid her hands along him. It felt shiny-smooth and silky like the top he'd just pulled off her and as more slime oozed from him she smeared it under her hands.

His mouth was slightly open, his eyes nearly closed; she watched his face relax and the desire build on it openly. She knew he wanted her to enjoy it too, as he would.

Her lips moistened, Cassie lowered her mouth and let her tongue kiss it more fully, longer, and then her hands slid faster and tighter as saliva mixed with his juice and the whole glistened like a well-oiled piston.

"What do you like, Rangi," she whispered.

One of his hands, to teach her, circled hers and taught her fist a rhythm that felt odd at first but included rubbing in a complete circle around his bulging end.

His hips began to move in time, adding thrust as she pushed back, and keeping momentum wh
en she faltered to change grip or hand position.

She licked him more now, sucked him into the depth of her mouth and let him slide out again. Her tongue wanted to perform for him; it danced and licked and circled, and went back the other way, salvia dripping. With
a mewl she drew him in deeper, almost gagging, but desiring the whole of it. She wanted him to know she had the measure of it, could meet and match any challenge set.

"Cassandra," groaned the voice above her head, "keep going."

She saw he sweated; his torso gleamed, and breath seemed to be forced into his chest. He heaved with the effort of it, yet kept thrusting into her tight grip.

She knew she controlled his passion and release and could make him victorious over the urge to cum, or
make it not happen, if she were careless or deliberately worked against his rhythm. She was powerful. The thought brought energy and increased strength to her tiring hands. She wouldn't fail; she wrench it out of him, she alone.

"Ahhh, Cassandra,"
came his words as cum came too, thick into her mouth. She swallowed some, a thing she'd rarely done for others as they'd not inspired her or demanded it.

She wiped the white trail that oozed beyond her lips. She licked him as he calmed, and managed to reflect a grin as he managed one for her.

Her pussy wet with hope and want, she wanted to bury her hand in there and relieve it, she wanted him to use his slender fingers again and drive her over the edge.

And she wanted the part of him which now sagged, spent.
She wanted it hot, hard, in her. But she'd have to wait if she wanted that.

He laid himself on the bed behind her, panting, pulling her down beside him. "Rest a moment, girl. You're fabulous."

Her hand could not withstand her need a minute longer and as he kissed her and she smiled into his eyes while his breathing settled, she let it find a way in through her thighs, and rested it in her seeping crack. Now she had something she could squeeze.