Sidelined: A Wilde Players Dirty Romance (5 page)

Not calling me Cass doesn’t go unnoticed. But I’d been the one to want to keep things professional. And I’d been the one to brush him off after he made fabulous love to me.

“I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh, that was you with the blocked number.”

It wasn’t a question. I’d forgotten about that. Calvin had blown up my phone in the early days after our breakup. I had my phone number changed, but didn’t want him to have the new one.

“That was me. I wanted to let you know Troy towed your truck.” I handed him Troy’s business card. “He just needs your key to get working on it.”

He started to heave himself up, but I stopped him. “I can get it for you.”

Sighing, he says, “They’re in my pants pocket. You know where my room is.”

His eyes never leave the dogs when he’s speaking, and my stomach sours. This is exactly why last night was a big mistake.

“Fletch, I wanted things to be casual with us, not like we are strangers.”

His response is sharp and quick. “I don’t do casual, Cass. You should know that. And we can’t be friends either.”

The slap of words is what I need to put things in perspective. I head up to his room and find his pants, determined to get this over with and leave. I pull out the contents of his pocket, which includes his phone. The damn thing buzzes in my hand, and it bobbles. I look down in time to see an incoming text flash on the phone.

M - Hey Fletch. I hear you’re in the area. I cheer for the Panthers now. We should hook up soon
.

The phone tumbles from my hand, but I manage a great save before it crashes to the hardwood floor. Too bad I can never mention that. I stuff it back into his pocket and march downstairs, my mad growing with each step.

I bang through the door and say, “If you need to get to town, I can drop you off. Otherwise, I can take the keys to Troy. He said he would drive the truck to you when it was done. He figures on a day or two if he has the necessary parts.”

Finally, his eyes dare to meet mine, but I look away. He doesn’t do casual, my ass.

“I guess I should ask how you got him to change his mind. What do I owe you for it?”

“You know Troy has always been sweet on me.” His eyes roll, and he grumbles something I’m unable to make out.

What he doesn’t know is Troy is happily married. His wife is pregnant with their third child and is bedridden for her final month. They’ve been eating his mom’s food, which I understand can peel paint. And an offer of a hot meal had easily gotten him past Mr. McGrumpy’s temper on the phone yesterday. I watch his molars grind together with sweet satisfaction.

“Why don’t you just drop the keys off then? I wouldn’t want to come between the two of you.”

I let him think what he wants.

“Fine. If your truck’s not ready by your next appointment, I can have Jenny get you or you can reschedule.”

“And what do I owe you?” he asks again.

I don’t have to think of an answer.

“You can forget last night. We’ll be working together for a while rehabbing your knee and shoulder. I don’t want things awkward between us.”

Left with nothing to say, I spin on my heels and get into my car. Elation and major depression fill me all at the same time. I’d won and lost and am already finding it hard to let go. And worse, he’s not even mine.

When I park in my father’s drive, I can’t help but stare at the house. Fletcher coming home has reminded me how much has changed. The small house with its fading paint still looks the same. Though it looks smaller than it did when I was twelve or even eighteen when I left for college.

I knock on the door before I open it. As much as Dad tells me that I should just come and go as I please, I kind of hope he will have a girlfriend one day.

“Dad?”

“In here.”

He’s where he always is, perched in a chair with ESPN on his big screen.

“Cassidy, baby.”

I go and hug him. Once an imposing man, he’s lost too much weight, but I don’t say anything.

“Daddy.”

“Sit. What’s going on? I hear Fletcher’s in town.”

Of course, he’s heard. When I don’t say anything, he trudges on.

“You know I always thought you and he—”

“Dad, don’t go there.”

But he isn’t done.

“You’ve got a big heart. When the guy who had it all left, you picked a fixer-upper who took your all.”

“I love you, Dad, but boy talk stopped when I was sixteen.”

He lets go of a heavy sigh. “I wish your mother were here. She’d be better at this.”

“It’s okay. I’m doing fine on my own.”

“Are you? You haven’t dated anyone. You should be out having fun.”

“I do have fun,” I snap, feeling petulant.

“Okay, enough of that. Just promise me something. If that boy wants another shot, think about it. And this time, don’t say no because of me.”

“Dad—”

He holds up his hand. “I know why you didn’t go to Oklahoma. And I love you for it. But it’s time you live your own life. Besides, I’m better now.”

“It’s too late for Fletcher and me. Remember, you helped co-sign the loan so that I could buy the practice. How am I supposed to leave now? I’m a business owner.”

“True, but happiness isn’t something you can buy or own.”

Dad’s words swirl in my head until Fletcher’s next appointment. My hands work nervously as I wonder what seeing him again will feel like. I do know one thing; there isn’t a pathway to a relationship for us, not when either of us is willing to move.

When his appointment time comes and goes, I’m at the front desk talking to Jenny.

“Did he call and reschedule?”

There isn’t a need to explain who the
he
is. She shakes her head no just as he walks in.

“Sorry, I had a late night and overslept.”

Visions of him and the girl labeled M in his phone dance in my head.

I don’t bother to say anything snarky in front of Jenny. It would be unprofessional, wouldn’t it? I bite my tongue and wait until we’re alone in the room.

“We don’t have a lot of time, so strip and get into this gown.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to leave the room. He pulls his shirt over his head and I’m so captivated, I have to swallow. His body is a piece of sculpture that belongs in a museum. I’m so mesmerized, I watch as he drops his pants. He’s commando… again. His dick bobs, and a part of me wants to fall on my knees and give thanks to the god of cocks.

Then there is a whoosh, and all the air is expelled from my lungs as he pins me to the door. I hear the lock turn before his lips are warm on mine, and I don’t fight it. I kiss him back, dammit, because my lady parts are on fire.

“We don’t have a lot of time. My next appointment is in forty minutes,” I manage to squeak out.

“I need twenty, and then you can finish me off.”

I have no idea what he means, but I’m determined to find out. His hand slides easily into my stretchy yoga pants. Damn, he’s not playing fair.

“I want you, but this is the last time,” I say before I lose all reason. Because this man is my drug of choice, and detoxing when he leaves will be hell on earth.

Fletcher

The last time, my ass. This is only the beginning. But she doesn’t need to hear that. Instead, I give her what she wants, what she needs. At five feet seven, she’s no match for me, so I push her over to the table, the one I usually sit on. In one swift move, she’s seated on the thing, and those flimsy stretchy pants are around her ankles. She pushes one leg free, and I spread her thighs, the same ones I’ve dreamed about for years, and bury my mouth in her pussy. When her fingers sink into my hair and tug my head even closer, I’m pretty fucking sure I’ve scored a touchdown. Or at least I will in a few minutes.

My tongue goes to town on her clit, back and forth, circling and licking, until she writhes on the table, her ass squirming. The panting spurs me on, so I add some finger action, pumping two of them just so, making sure to hit her G-spot. When her legs virtually put me in a vise grip, I know she’s going to come. I have to see her, so I lift my eyes to watch. Her head drops back, and all I want to do is kiss the line of her neck.

As soon as the tiny quivers stop, I move over her and run my tongue from her ear to where her neck and shoulder join. Then, grabbing her calf, I put it around my waist and drive my way to the end zone. A quarterback sneak that leads to a touchdown—that’s exactly how it feels. My mouth hovers over hers for a second, and then I kiss her as we fuck. No, I don’t feel like this is fucking. With Cass, it was never fucking. It was always making love. Her warm, wet pussy fits around my cock like a tailor-made glove, and she’s lightning running through my veins.

“Cass, you’re perfect. So damn good.”

Her hand wraps around my neck and pulls me in for another kiss. My hips tilt in as she meets my thrusts. We match a prefect rhythm as though we’ve never skipped all those years. I pull her up into a seated position and reach between us, watching where we’re joined. Seeing my dick moving in and out of her is the most incredible sight. My finger touches her clit, and she grabs my shoulder, the good one, as her fingers dig into the muscles.

“I’m going to come again,” she says.

“Good. So am I.”

When I feel her inner muscles squeezing my cock, I let loose. It’s so damn good, I have half a mind to shout out loud, but stop myself right in the nick of time. To let the office know what’s going on in here would not be good. Then I lean in to kiss her, but she turns her cheek.

“Don’t do this, Cass. You and I … we’re meant to be. You have to feel this.” Her legs are still wrapped around me, and when she tries to move, I keep a tight grip on them.

“Fletcher, please.”

“You can’t run and hide from this.”

“I’m not hiding. I’m protecting myself.”

“From what?” I ask.

“From having my heart torn to pieces. I can’t go through that again.”

“Who says you will? And who says my heart came out of that unscathed? You act like it didn’t affect me at all. I was devastated by what happened. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I had to concentrate so hard on my career, I’m not sure how I would’ve gotten through it.”

Her dubious expression lets me know she’s not buying it.

“What?” I ask.

“I saw all the pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“Of you with all those girls. They were everywhere. Hanging all over you and you soaking it up like a king,” she says. The wounded look in her eyes and the way her shoulders instantly droop tell me all I need to know. Those damn pictures they forced me to take and the places they told me I had to go must’ve made a terrible impression on her.

“Cass, it was all fake, all for show. That wasn’t the real me. If you would’ve given me a chance to explain—” My hand slashes through the air. It still pisses me off that I let them have so much control over me back in the early days. It had cost me a great deal.

“Okay, but what about your other options here?”

“My other options?”

“It’s not like you owe me an explanation,” she says.

“Explanation?” What the hell is she talking about?

“I saw the text,” she says. My perplexed expression must show her I need more than this, so she goes on to say, “The cheerleader for the Panthers who texted you?”

“Cheerleader?” I am completely lost now. I don’t even know any Panthers’ cheerleaders.

Her penetrating gaze is filled with doubt, but then it suddenly hits me. The text I got from Mark. She must’ve seen it, and I have him in my phone as M.

“Are you talking about Mark?” I watch her bite her lip, realizing she’s caught. “Checking my phone, Cass? That’s a new low even for you.”

“I didn’t—”

“Um, yeah, I think you did. How else would you have come to this conclusion, which couldn’t be further from the truth?”

She glances at the clock on the wall. “It was an accident. I shouldn’t have—“ She shakes her head more to herself. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. It’s almost time for my next appointment, and I need to pull myself together.”

She unwinds her legs from my hips. She’s pulling away from me and not just physically. “Sure. But this isn’t over between us. Tell me you realize that.” She’s unwilling to meet my gaze, which doesn’t bode well for me. However, I’m not going to accept this. I lightly grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tip her head back, forcing her to look me square in the eye. “Cass, please. Give us a chance. There is no one, no cheerleader, no fan club. I swear.”

“Fletch, I have to think, but I can’t right now. I have a job to do. And I have to work on you for a little while.”

“Fair enough.” I reach for the gown, and she gets dressed.

She has me lie back, and she does some stretching movements with both my knee and shoulder, and then moves into massage therapy.

When she’s about ready to wrap things up, she says, “Sorry this was so abbreviated.”

“I’m not. In fact, I’d go so far to say I’d like all sessions to be this way.” It’s impossible to keep the grin off my face. I quickly get dressed.

Before we exit the room, I notice how disheveled she looks so I say, “Hang on.” I straighten her hair and wipe the smudge of lipstick off her mouth. “Much better.”

She gives me a lopsided grin. “Thanks.”

“Do I need to come in tomorrow since I didn’t get a full session in today?”

“Yep, I guess you do. See if Jenny can find time to squeeze you in between my appointments.”

“Cass, I’ll squeeze in wherever you let me.”

She purses her lips, but can’t stop a smile. We walk back to the front desk, and she says, “Jenny, will you schedule Mr. Wilde for another appointment tomorrow?”

Jenny raises her brows, but doesn’t say a word. I leave with an appointment for the next morning, but I also have a mission. It may be a mission impossible, but then, I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge. In fact, I’m feeling a bit rejuvenated.

Mark’s old beater truck is parked outside where I left it. He was kind enough to let me borrow it until mine gets fixed. He came by early this morning with a woman to drop it off. He’d given me a look not to ask, so I hadn’t. Besides, I have a goal, and I’m figuring out a way to achieve it. My first stop is The Dirty Hammer where Gina works. Even though it’s early, I know they serve lunch, so I’m banking on it being open.