The Watson Brothers (23 page)

Cassidy assumed Pete was still out with his brothers when she got home. His car was in the drive, but his condo was dark and quiet. She hesitated, unwilling to look too desperate, then went next door and knocked.

No answer.

She was amazingly bummed by that, so much so that she gave herself a stern talking-to and marched her sorry butt into her own place. She had plenty to do before the evening anyway.

Oh God, what if he didn’t come over that evening either? She’d only had sex with him once but was already suffering withdrawal. Her hands were shaking, for crying out loud. No, she wouldn’t angst over it.

She threw her new undies into the wash on a delicate cycle. She always washed new clothes before wearing them, but especially underwear. These had to be line-dried instead of going into the dryer. What a pain. Pete was already affecting her life, making her too conscious of her sloppy appearance when it had never mattered to her before.

After the wash finished and she had the new items hung up to dry, she jumped in the shower. Lingering under the spray, Cassidy forced herself not to rush, not to listen for the phone or door. But the second she got out, she checked her answering machine, which showed a great big, fat “0” calls. She stuck her head out the front door, trying to see if Pete was home yet. He wasn’t, and she wanted to smack herself.

Wearing only an enormous navy nightshirt, Cassidy paced around her condo. Later, when the panties were dry, she’d put on a pair just in case Pete did show up. In the meantime, she was making herself nuts.

Two hours later, she was propped in front of the television with a snack, oblivious to the movie she’d turned on. A tap sounded on her kitchen door.

She jumped—actually jumped—from her seat. Forcing herself to slow, Cassidy smoothed her hair, wiped the bread crumbs from her cheese sandwich off her shirt, and walked into the kitchen.

Pete stood there at her patio door, his hair damp from a recent shower and with a little too much sun on his face. He had one long, muscled arm above his head on the doorframe, the other stretched out to the side of the frame. He grinned when he saw her and just like that, Cassidy went weak in the knees and hot in secret places. Boy, she had it bad.

Unlocking the door, she slid it open and said, “Why do you always come to this door—umpff.”

Pete had his mouth all over her, as if he’d missed her just as much. One of his hands held the back of her head, his long fingers wrapped around her skull, while his tongue stroked into her mouth, tasting her deeply. His other hand was at the small of her back, going lower and lower until he cupped her bottom and squeezed her in close.

“Damn, I’ve thought about your mouth all day. That was the most boring boat trip I’ve ever taken.”

Cassidy licked her tingling lips and struggled to get her eyes open. “Yeah?”

“My brothers had endless comments to make. The lake was choppy. And chicks in bikinis kept flirting with us.”

Cassidy shoved back with a frown. “Oh, and I just know you hated that.”

Pete’s grin widened. “You sound so snide.” He caught her and pulled her close again. “With Gil and Sam both hitched, it was up to me to send the girls off with smiles.”

“But you sent them all off?”

He chuckled outright. “Snide and suspicious. Of course I did. Now if you were in a bikini…”

“Right. I wouldn’t be caught dead…”

“Did you do something to your hair?” He frowned, lifted a lock and ran his fingers down to the end. “It looks different. Shorter.”

Ohhhh
. He noticed. Cassidy felt her heart turn over in her chest at the same time she started blushing. No one had noticed—but Pete had. “I just got it trimmed,” she mumbled.

“You lopped a lot off.”

“Just a couple of inches.”

Pete didn’t comment, just kept examining it. Then the hand on her bottom shifted and he growled, “Are you wearing panties?”

Oops. She’d forgotten. Before Cassidy could stop herself, she glanced into the laundry room off her kitchen where the new underwear hung across a line. “I—”

Pete followed her gaze and his eyes darkened. “Well, what have we here?”

“Pete.”
She grabbed the waistband of his shorts when he started that way, and ended up dragged across the linoleum floor. “You leave my laundry alone.”

Of course, he ignored that order. Cassidy went from embarrassed to mortified when Pete fingered the panties, examining the lace and silk. Then his gaze swung around to her lower body.

“You naked under that shirt, Cass?”

She backed up. The big-bad-wolf look on his face had her giggling nervously. “Maybe.”

“I think you are.” He released her underwear to stalk her. “Much as I’d like to see your sweet ass in those little bits of nothing, I think I’d just as soon see it bare.”

She clutched the material of her nightshirt tight around her thighs. “Is that right?”

“Come here, Cass.”

“No.” She shook her head and giggled some more.

“You want me to chase you?” His gaze brightened. “I’m up to a few games if you are.”

“No! I didn’t mean—”

“Better run,” he suggested.
“Now.”

His expression was so hot and intent, Cassidy didn’t question him further. She just whipped around and fled. She felt Pete behind her, heard his big feet pounding on her floor, and her heart shot into her throat. She ran as fast as she could, and all the while she kept giggling hysterically like a ninny of a schoolgirl.

She darted behind the couch, squealed when Pete went over it, and dashed down the hall. He was toying with her, she realized, when his fingers brushed her bottom again and again but he didn’t bother snagging her. Her open bedroom door offered the only escape, so she flew inside and tried to slam it shut, but Pete didn’t give her a chance. She screamed in surprise when he surged in right behind her.

Backing up, breathing hard, Cassidy watched him.

Pete’s wicked grin was full of promise. “Nowhere else to go, Cass. Now be a good girl and lift the shirt and let me see if you’ve got on underwear.”

It was impossible to wipe the smile off her face. But at the same time, her heart beat so fast she thought she might faint. “You know I don’t.”

“Let me see.”

The back of her knees hit the mattress, bringing her to a jarring halt. Slowly, feeling like a tease, she caught the hem of her shirt—then flashed it up and back down again.

Pete laughed. “That was too fast.”

“It’s all you get.”

“Not even close.” He advanced and Cassidy caught her breath. Slowly, he took the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up, up, until it rested above her naked breasts. Somehow she felt more bared than she would have without the shirt. “Hold it there.”

Feeling light-headed again, Cassidy did as she was told.

Until Pete went down on one knee.

She whimpered.
Whimpered
. She wasn’t even the whimpering type, but she’d heard the ridiculous sound come out of her throat…his fingers parted her, stifling all coherent thought.

A gasp, another whimper, then a soft groan.
“Pete.”

“I kept wondering,” he said huskily, “if you really tasted as good as I remembered.” With his fingertips still holding her open, he looked up at her. “You do.”

And he must have meant it, given how much tasting he did for the next ten minutes. Cassidy’s knees were shaking, her legs like noodles, when she finally called a halt. “I have to sit down.”

“How about lying down instead?” Pete stood, tugged her shirt the rest of the way off, and began stripping his own clothes away. “I should see to you first,” he said, while staring at her breasts, “because the way I’m feeling, this won’t last long.”

“I don’t care.” Cassidy couldn’t wait a second more and went to work on his fly. She had his shorts off in a heartbeat. He was fully erect. Breath held, she cupped him in her hands and stroked the length of him, reveling in the velvet texture over tensile steel. She glanced at Pete’s face, saw his eyes were closed, his jaw locked, and felt more powerful than she ever had in her life. “I want to taste you, too.”

He ground his teeth a moment, then swallowed. Locking his dark gaze with hers, he murmured, “Be my guest.”

It was Cassidy’s turn to kneel, and she took her time, feeling him, playing with him. His thighs were rock hard, his big feet braced apart, his hands fisted at his sides.

She’d never done this, but she’d certainly read about it. Curling her fingers tight around the base of his erection, she brought him to her mouth and licked—slow, soft, wet.

Pete dropped his head back and groaned.

He was a little salty, very warm, and she liked it. A lot. Opening her mouth, Cassidy drew him in, moving her tongue, teasing, then sucking just a bit.

In a rough, hoarse voice, Pete said, “You’re something of a tease, aren’t you?”

“Mmmm.” If it meant doing more of this, she thought she could be.

“Oh, hell,” Pete complained around a broken laugh. “That’s it. That’s enough.” He caught her shoulders and pulled her up. “It’s been too long and my control is obliterated.”

Cassidy felt herself hauled upright and said with some surprise, “But it was only this morning—”

“In the bed you go.”

He was moving at Mach speed, not giving her time to think. “What about you?”

“I need to fetch the raincoat first. Trust me, I’ll be right with you.” Pete snatched up his shorts and dug through the pocket for his wallet. Waving one condom at her, he said, “After this, I’ll head next door for reinforcements.” He tore the package open and rolled the rubber on with ease, proving just how much experience he had at this sort of thing.

Cassidy didn’t care. He was wonderful, a fabulous lover, and he’d noticed her haircut. She opened her arms to him.

There were few preliminaries this time. Pete settled between her legs and kissed her hungrily while cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples. Unlike the first time, he didn’t drag out the foreplay. Within minutes he used his fingertips to open her. Cassidy felt the broad head of his penis pressing inside.

“Hold on to me, Cass,” he told her. “This is going to be a rough ride.”

Just hearing him say it thrilled her, and she wrapped her arms tight around him seconds before he lifted her hips and drove forward. They both gasped.

Around a groan, Pete said, “You feel so fucking good. Too good.”

The power of his thrusts rocked the bed and had the springs squeaking rhythmically. Cassidy put her legs around him, gripped his shoulders, and gave herself over to the incredible sensations of physical pleasure and emotional fulfillment. God, she knew she loved Pete. Nothing else could explain why she both wanted to weep and laugh with joy. She did neither. As her climax approached, she tightened, moaned, cried out—and felt Pete join her with a resounding, husky groan.

Yep, she loved him.

Now what?

Pete didn’t exactly mean to fall asleep with her. Staying over with a woman wasn’t something he ever took for granted. It wasn’t something he normally did, because it signified advancement in the relationship and there’d been only a few times he’d felt comfortable with that level of commitment. But after running back to his place to grab a box of rubbers, he’d returned to Cassidy and cajoled her into modeling her new underwear.

She was such a turn-on, blushing while wearing something so sexy, laughing at him while her eyes glowed with the same powerful lust he felt. He loved watching her come. He loved holding her. He just plain loved being with her.

All through the night, while she slept soundly in his arms, he was aware of her. He’d slept little, but then, he had a soft, naked woman beside him, and everything about her fascinated him.

He hated it that she’d cut her hair. What if it had been his teasing comment that prompted her to do it? Her hair was a big turn-on for Pete. Not styled, totally natural, totally female. Like Cassidy.

Sometime during her third screaming orgasm, Pete realized he loved her because of her naturalness. Strange, when usually the really polished women appealed to him. But his relationships with them had always been polished, too. Tidy, shiny, and very surface. He’d never harassed any of them or had them laugh at him. He’d never just been himself with them.

Cassidy murmured in her sleep and her fingers tightened in his chest hair. She’d kept a death grip on him all night. Pete liked that. It gave him hope that she felt just a modicum of the desperate need he experienced.

Carefully prying her hold loose, he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. She stirred, but didn’t quite awaken. He examined her small hand with the short and clean, unpainted nails. She wore no jewelry. Because she was asleep and wouldn’t know, he rubbed her fingertips over his lips, his chin. They were a little callused, yet he thought Cassidy McClannahan was about the most feminine woman he’d ever known.

He brought her palm up and pressed it to his mouth.

“Pete?”

Her slumberous eyes were sexy as hell. Enticing. “I love touching you,” he said before he could censor that L-word out. Then he decided, what the hell. “I love the way you feel and how you smell. And how you taste.” He drew her finger into his mouth and curled his tongue around her, sucking lazily.