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“Careful, Lovebird, you might try to chew off more than you’re capable of handling.”
But then he steps away and unzips his jeans, holding me hostage with a smoldering look. His hard cock with thick veins bounces free between his parted masculine legs and then he leans over, caging me in. My focus snaps to his handsome features I want to explore with my tongue and teeth, feel his scruff against my skin, and wind my fingers in his golden-brown hair as he fucks me.
“If we go further, there will be no going back, Cassandra. Do you understand this? I’m not going to play like a good boy and let you slip through my fingers. I’ll use every trick in the book to seduce you, melt your resolve, and enslave your heart. You better be sure, because I won’t stop until you’re moaning and screaming my name, and know no other man but me.”
My gaze snaps to his dilated irises as I hear a jealous underlining in his possessive statement. I expect many things from him, but not envy. I touch his jaw and stroke his lips, mapping their shape with my fingers.
“There is no other man, just you.”
I smooth the crease between his brows and kiss it, needing him to lose this edge and let the energy coursing through us mend the broken. The seductive power is so potent and fierce, I struggle to breathe and think clearly.
He pulls me against him and cups my neck, bringing my eyes to his as if he wants to force those thoughts from his head to mine. “Isn’t there?” I flinch at his harsh tone.
He can’t mean Logan, can he?
My bare chest constricts, and I swallow a lump. I push him away, jumping off the island to grab the discarded T-shirt from the floor.
“What are you doing?”
I turn to face him.
“Dressing up, Mark. What else?” I snap, annoyed and hurt, trying to keep tears at bay. It seems like my past is haunting me again.
“Cassandra . . .” His rasping voice full of need tugs at me, but I can’t let him make me feel guilty about those people I loved and lost. “Lovebird, please . . .”
“Logan was a huge part of my life, okay? You can’t be jealous of the dead man.”
Mark’s shoulders hunch over as he looks down at his feet, lost for words. But then he grabs his jeans and starts to dress up too.
“Mark . . . look at me.”
He slowly raises his gaze to me, and I see such a deep chasm of darkness reflected in their depths. I feel like I might fall in there and never be able to come back. I move before I realize what I’m doing as if to soothe him. Grabbing his neck, I bring his face to mine, letting him see the gulf of my own darkness.
“I know loss, agony, hollow loneliness the way few people do. And I think you understand better than anyone else what it’s like to live with that chasm of pain. Logan and I belonged to a different era. I was a different person back then. Why are you so afraid of my past?”
“I feel like I’ll never measure up to him, like he’s everywhere, in your home, in your bed, in your memories, in your heart.” His gaze locks up on the photograph hanging above the side table and many others scattered around the space. “I wonder where my place is, if I’ll ever have all of you.” The last part he speaks softly, hesitantly.
I shouldn’t have told him about Logan, about our love and loss. It made him insecure.
“We could make this relationship whatever we want it to be. But Logan is the father of my children. These are the only reminders I have of him. I can’t recall every memory due to my head traumas, and my kids are too little to remember him. So yes, these photos are important pieces you’ll have to get used to. I won’t be breaking the hearts of my children because you feel insecure about your place in my life.”
His shoulders hunch and his head lowers to the floor as he stands there like a lonely soul who also needs a place to belong. Without his hands wrapped around me, and his presence curling in the dark places of my heart, the distance between us makes me empty.
Since I don’t have all the answers, I don’t try to give them just because he wants them now. Instead, I pull his face toward mine and mesh our lips, reassuring him the only way I can.
“A-hem,” someone clears their throat and we pull apart.
I flinch as light pierces the room and screw my eyes shut to adjust to the brightness. Mark’s hands tighten around me as he stares at someone over my shoulder.
13
Obstacles
~Mark~
Something possessive flares in those pale gray eyes as Lucas watches my hand wrap around Cassandra’s torso.
“You should leave, Mark. It’s too late for a visit.” His voice rumbles with authority, aggravating me even more.
