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Scarlet finishes her beer and seems to catch sight of her watch. “I’m sorry, this has been a fun little catch-up, but I have to get going. My sitter can only stay till nine.” She nudges Cassie’s arm while she looks my way. “You should stay, though.”
Miles polishes off his drink. “Yeah, I need to get going too, early morning tomorrow and all.” He yawns loudly. “I’ll walk you out Scarlet,” he offers.
“See you guys at school on Monday.” Cassie gives them a wave, but her attention is on me. “I think I’m going to have another if you are, Quarterback?” She smiles in that sassy way I know can only mean one thing.
I nod. “I could go for another.”
When the others are out of earshot, Cassandra leans in toward me. “I feel like having a little fun tonight. How about you?”
I look at her glass, wondering if she might have started a little earlier at the game. She is a lot more relaxed than normal. “What do you have in mind?”
“Lookout?” she suggests, biting into her lip.
“You want to go back there?” I ask, surprised. She told me herself that she doesn't like going there anymore after what happened.
She grabs her jacket and stands, slipping it on and flicking her long hair back the way I like. “Yeah, I need a re-do with a happy ending,” she says with so much heat in her eyes I wonder if we’ll make it to the lookout.
I take her hand, lacing it with mine, and pull her into my body so I can feel her heat. “Oh, baby, I can promise you that.” If she needs a fresh memory to erase our shitty last night together, so we can move on and finally make something of this thing between us, then I’m all for it. And I intend to give her so many happy endings tonight, she won’t be able to remember her own name, let alone anything from the past.
Wepullintothelot at Palm Springs Lookout, and I park my car. It’s empty, which is surprising for a Saturday night, but maybe this isn’t the spot to hang anymore. I half expected her to chicken out on the way here, but she has been surprisingly chatty the whole way, with a hand absentmindedly running up along my thigh in a way that feels so familiar, it’s like no time has passed at all.
There’s not even time to unbuckle my seat belt before she’s pulling me toward her and bringing her lips to meet mine in a desperate kiss. “I know I said I can’t do this.” She kisses me again. “But I want you. More, than, anything.” She gets out between kissing me.
“If you’re sure? I won’t…”
“I’m sure.” She kisses me again. “You're too good to me. I don’t even deserve you.”
“That’s not true.” She said the same thing to me at the airport, and I don’t quite understand what she means, because until now, she has been the one hating me for leaving the way I did.
“It is, but if you still want to see what this is, then I do too. I have had enough regrets, and we’ve lost so much time already. What you said is right. I don’t want to live in pain anymore. I want you to heal me. If you think you can.” Her lashes flutter as she watches me, waiting for me to tell her I can fix her, like she is so desperate for someone to help her in any way they can. And she has decided I’m the only one suitable for the job.
“I know I can. I have always been the man for you, Cassie, the timing just wasn’t right before. And now, it’s perfect.” I push my seat back, allowing for more room, and she climbs on top of me.
She grabs for her T-shirt, stripping it off over her head. I run my hands up her body, feeling the way over her smooth skin till I get to her lace bra. Her nipples are hard and show through the thin fabric. I take one in my mouth, sucking hard, and she lets out a breathy moan like she was so desperate for my mouth on her, she could fall apart from me doing this alone. I try her other sweet tit, sucking her nipple into my mouth harder, wanting to hear her moan again. I toy with the other, rolling it between my fingers.
"Brandon," she moans in question.
"What is it?"
"I need it rough, okay, so I can really feel it."
"I'll do whatever you want me to, Cassie."
She rocks her hips over my hardened length that’s now dying to be set free of my jeans. Her hands are in my hair, pulling my mouth back up to her lips, kissing me with desperation, our tongues battling in a fight that neither of us wants to win. She tugs at my football jersey, and I help her remove it so we’re chest to chest, my hardened body against her soft silky skin, as we continue to make out like horny teenagers at what used to be our favorite make-out spot.
She pulls back from me, her eyes filled with a dark intensity as she gazes over my chest, her hand tracing the lines I have inked. “You’re one gorgeous man, Brandon Lewis.”
I scoop her hair up in my hand so I can access her bare neck, so long and elegant, placing bruising kisses from her lobe to her shoulder. “You’re one gorgeous woman, Cassandra Harper,” I tell her, causing a smile to light up her face.
Her hand stops when she gets to one tattoo in particular. I’m surprised she didn't notice it the first time we messed around. “A ballerina,” she gasps, and I see the emotion in her features. This means something to her, just like it always has to me. She might have spent all these years hating me, but I was biding my time until I could get back to her.
“It’s always been you, Cassie.”
A lone tear rolls down her cheek. She swipes it away like it was an interruption to the moment we were sharing. “I don’t care how you do it, Brandon, I just need you inside of me right now.”
She lifts her weight off my lap so she can undo my pants, and I help her, shoving them along with my boxer briefs down my legs. She strokes my length, and it feels insane after wanting her all week and not being able to have her, but her hands are on me now, and it’s almost enough to bring me undone. “Man, that feels good.”
“Yeah, it does. You have the best cock. Did you know that?”
