With a cocky grin, Thatch slid off his T-shirt and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans. His muscular chest and ripped arms shone beneath the spotlight, and the venue was filled with high-pitched screams. He danced. Britney sang. And by the end of the song, I was pretty sure the charming, sexy idiot had won over every female in attendance, including the pop princess.
"Rule number fifty. Never volunteer me to go on stage unless you want some serious paybacks," was the first thing he said to me when he made it back to our seats.
I laughed. "Oh, get over yourself. You took your fucking shirt off. We both know you were enjoying every minute of that."
He winked. "Don't be jealous, honey. I'll take my shirt and pants off for you tonight."
"Cool the fucking ego," I teased and playfully smacked his arm.
He grinned and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, tugging my back to his chest. "If you're a good girl, Cass," he whispered in my ear, "I'll lick your cunt just the way you like."
Crude? Yes.
But did it turn me on? Of course.
I looked up at him underneath my lashes and smiled. "Deal."
We stayed in that position until Britney finished the show. As the venue started to clear out, Thatch grabbed my hand to lead me out of our aisle, but I couldn't find the will to move my feet. I just stood there, looking around the half-filled room, while I tried like hell to wrap my mind around the night's events.
I was overwhelmed, and it had nothing to do with Britney Spears or front-row seats or getting a video of Thatch crawling across a stage on a leash.
It was him. He was overwhelming me.
But not in a bad way.
It was in an all-consuming kind of way.
I just couldn't believe he had done this. He'd changed his plans in L.A. to drive five hours to Vegas to cheer me up. And he hadn't just shown up and taken me to dinner. No. He'd pulled some serious strings for tickets to a concert I had been dying to go to. A concert I had maybe mentioned to him once that I had been wanting to see.
But he'd remembered.
And he hadn't hesitated to drop everything for me.
He tugged on my hand again, but he stopped and glanced back when he realized I wasn't moving.
"You okay, honey?" he asked.
I shook my head.
He stepped toward me. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong," I answered truthfully. "I'm just overwhelmed by how right everything feels."
Placing his fingers under my chin, he lifted my eyes to his. His eyes turned soft as his gaze locked with mine.
"Thank you for tonight. This was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."
He caressed the skin of my cheek with the stroke of his thumb. "When it comes to you, I have an endless supply of sweet, Cassie."
"You're sweet for me and only me?" I asked, without saying the words I really wanted to say.
Be mine. Only mine. No other women. Just me and you.
"Yes," he answered without a second thought before tossing back, "You're good for me and only me?"
I smiled and nodded, adding, "And your cock too."
"When it comes to my cock, you can feel free to be bad."
And then, right there, in the still-crowded venue at Planet Hollywood, Thatch lifted me into his arms and brushed his mouth against mine, taking my lips in a kiss that made me feel like we were the only two people in the room.
Clothes littered the space between the door and the bed as I pushed Cassie backward at a near run. Her hair, her smile, the smell of her skin-I hadn't been able to get enough of any of it tonight.
Steps stuttered and stumbled as she tried to keep up with the unfair advantage of my long legs. A moan filled the air as I palmed the cheeks of her ass and lifted her feet right off the ground.
"Thatch," she whispered, her voice nothing more than an aroused hum.
"Right here, honeys," I answered, dropping her to the bed, whipping off her shirt, and speaking directly to her tits.
Cassie smiled and swatted at my face, and I did my best to dodge it as I laughed.
"Jesus Christ, can't you be serious? Ever?" she huffed. I nuzzled at the sweet skin of her neck.
"You want me to be?" I whispered.
Her pause was brief and not at all nerve-racking because the more I was around her, the more I found I didn't care what the answer was. Contentment for me was becoming synonymous with contentment for her. I didn't understand it, but right then, with her tits in my face, I didn't even try.
"No. I don't want you to be serious." Her eyes said, I just want you to be you.
Like an animal, I forced her weight into the bed by covering her with my own and licked a line from her jaw straight down the middle of her chest. I circled the perfect edge of her belly button, lapping at the jewelry there, and then tugged at the fabric of her jeans with my teeth.
Her hips jumped, and heat from the flames in her eyes singed my skin.
When I pulled at her pants again but didn't unbutton them, she snapped. "Stop teasing me!"
I smiled into her skin, rubbing my lips back and forth as my gaze met hers. "Why, baby? Did something turn you on tonight?"
She nodded and licked her lips. "There was one thing I can't get out of my head."
"Tell me," I demanded as a surge of new blood filled my already stiff cock.
"You on the ground."
"Yeah."
"On your knees."
"Yeah."
"With a collar around your neck-"
"Cass," I warned, pulling her down the bed by the hips and slamming her to my cock. Her head shot back, and a gasp broke through the heavy, arousal-filled air.
"Fine. Just take off my pants, for fuck's sake. No freak show necessary."
Cognizant of her impatience, I ripped her pants and thong down her legs, shoved them open, and licked a path straight from her ass to her clit.
Her pussy convulsed right in front of my eyes.
"Fuck, honey. Wait to do that until some part of me is in there," I chastised with a smirk. Tongue, finger, cock, I didn't care what she squeezed.
I pushed back from her and the bed and grabbed her phone from the back pocket of the pants I'd just stripped off her.
"Password?" I asked as I swiped to unlock it.
"Fuck off," she told me with a smile, so I stepped forward, dropped to my knees in front of the bed and licked a circle around her clit. I filled her pussy with two thick fingers at the same time.
Her head shot back, and she moaned.
"Password," I repeated again.
Her eyes were far less obstinate when they found mine, but I could tell it was a fight she didn't want to give up.
It meant next to nothing, but goddamn, I wanted it. In and out I pumped, working the bud up top with my tongue until she couldn't stop herself from bunching the white comforter in her hands.
"Password, Cassie." This time, I said it as a command, and she broke, her pussy convulsing on my fingers as she did.
"It's fucking CASS, you prick." I smiled at her ability to be on the very brink of orgasm and insult me at the same time.
There wasn't anyone else like her.
As for the password, I should have known.
Finally inside, I did my best to show her that sometimes it pays to do what someone else says. As the distinct beat of Britney Spears' "Freakshow" filled the room, surprise made a bid to do the same in her eyes.
"Come on, honey," I called, pulling her to the edge of the bed and settling her legs wide and to the sides so her glistening pussy shone in the dim lights.
"What are you doing?" she asked, and I winked.
"There may be no leash, but I can dance for you, honey."
She smiled, and I literally lost myself in it. In her, in the ridiculous moment, in everything we could be.
Oh yeah, baby. Tonight, you and I are going to dance.
"I can't believe you're coming to my parents' house with me," Cassie grumbled as we got into the cab waiting at the curb outside Portland International Airport. To be fair, I hadn't told her I was coming until we were at the airport, through security, and I was following her to our gate. She'd thought I was flying home to New York.
A smile had become pretty much permanently affixed to my face after the weekend we'd had, and like always, her complaining only made me more cheerful. I was in a strange place, getting all of my jollies from a recipe book that suggested two cups of Cassie with a teaspoon of messing with her stirred in.
It was the weirdest fucking catalyst for happiness, but I embraced it. It meant more of her. More laughs. More sex. More everything I was finding I didn't want to go a day without.
"Believe it because I am," I advised. "If you didn't want me to come, you should have told me before I got on the big metal bird and flew over nine hundred miles in a direction other than home."
She scoffed indelicately, and I bit my lip so as not to laugh. "How the fuck do you know how many miles are between here and Las Vegas?"
I shrugged. "Miles are a number. I know numbers."
"Okay, Chandler."