He nodded, hoping Sunny would be all right. Sunny probably felt as though she’d lived life intentionally. He hoped she had a few more years of intentional living alongside Casper.
Checking his watch, Samson thought of Cassie and Ivan, probably nice and cozy by that point in the evening. Part of him was envious. There was no denying it. Ivan had let him know they’d left a key out in case he decided to join them, but it was probably good Ivan was alone with her. Every time they’d been around each other, he’d scared her off, offended her, or pissed her off.
They’d been on the right track that day until her mother had collapsed, though. Ivan had a way with words, and the tenderness Samson had always noticed Ivan projected toward her was finally out in the open. It was a safe bet she was already convinced a ménage was a good idea, so him working that evening and giving them the time alone was probably a good idea for all three of them. If things worked out, time alone with each other would be expected anyway, so he might as well start out on the right foot…now that it was no longer shoved in his mouth.
Chapter Thirteen
Ivan’s gaze travelled up and down her body with agonizing thoroughness, and then he looked into her eyes for several long seconds.
While he stared, all her body image worries catalogued themselves in her head. Only this time she noticed the voice was Bill’s.
A man doesn’t want to see a woman’s ass wobbling while he fucks her.
I miss when your breasts were firm before the kids came along.
I’d gladly pay for breast implants.
Lubrication is your responsibility, not mine.
A Stairmaster might improve your stamina so you can keep up with me. It’d tone those thighs, too.
All that body acceptance garbage in the media is just politically correct bull crap. Men are not attracted to women with extra meat on their bones.
And her father’s voice in her head surprised her. No more sopapillas for you! No man will marry you if you are fat.
You’re sagging.
Old.
Cassie blinked in surprise when Ivan interlaced her fingers with his and said, “Come with me.”
“Where? What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.”
She resisted when he tugged her hand but followed when he tightened his fingers and pulled her around the room, maneuvering her in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. A mirror she usually checked her appearance in before walking out the door…fully clothed.
Taking her by the arms, he adjusted her so she stood in front of him. She locked eyes with his reflection over her shoulders.
“I can’t believe this is the only long mirror in your house. You can’t see anything in the small mirror in your bathroom.”
By design.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered right next to her ear. She gratefully complied, and he continued. “Just breathe for me right now. You’re as rigid as a two-by-four.”
She gulped as she listened to her rushing heartbeat in her ears. He was right. It was difficult, but she managed a slow intake of air and shuddered as she tried to release it just as slowly, feeling as if she was suffocating.
“You’re safe with me, Cassie,” he said as he stroked her hair over her shoulders so it all hung down her back and then ran a hand over the length, giving her goose bumps and sending a delicious wave of shivers up her spine in response. She took another slow breath, counting to four, and then let it out with a bit more ease. By the fourth slow in and out of air, she felt a little more settled and smiled when he whispered, “Good. Now, I want you to open your eyes, but keep them on me.”
She nodded and opened them. He returned her smile and gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. He stood at least half a foot taller than her, and she drew warmth and a little courage from him standing so close. A tingle flickered under her skin as his gaze roved over her naked skin.
He looked away for a second, as if gathering his thoughts, and then looked into her eyes again. “You don’t like looking at your naked body, do you?” She shook her head. “Using your fingertips, I want you to touch a spot on your body that makes you not want to look at yourself naked.”
Gulping again, her fingertips twitched before she placed them against the soft, stretch-marked skin, the slight crease above her mound. She hated the way the skin folded when she bent over or sat down, as well as the small spare tire that had developed above it, which made her jeans snugger than they used to be.
“Okay,” he murmured, and then kissed her temple. “What else?”
She turned slightly in his loose embrace and touched the side of her breast, where the flesh had lost its firmness and sagged, then showed him its twin on her other side. “I never appreciated my breasts—the way they were shaped I mean—before I had the first baby. I remember looking in the mirror when he was less than a week old and noticing this had happened.” She shook her head when her voice cracked a little. She hadn’t been emotional about it in years and couldn’t imagine why it hit her fresh right then. She glanced up at him and saw compassion in his eyes.