51 - Stubborn O'Hara

As Cassidy blindly watched the Nashville sidewalks spur to life, part of her regretted not taking a little longer in the shower or on her phone, talking with Libby and texting with David.  Blowing off David’s silly compliments about the pictures and assuring her sister that they’d be sent along when Cassidy had them were more pleasant than eavesdropping on Jon’s phone call.

His wife obviously wanted him home and, while he wasn’t tripping over himself to accommodate her, Cassidy detected no signs of bitterness.  Yes, he’d acquired a thread of steel in that one response but, for the most part, there was nothing other than… cordiality. 

It provided convincing proof that Jon wasn’t spinning tales when saying he got along with his wife, and it also gave Cassidy concrete confirmation of why he saw no reason to divorce.  Why would he?  As long as he and his wife were on the same page, living amicably while he still got everything he wanted…

From his perspective, it had to be nothing short of ideal.

Curling her arm more tightly around herself, she used coffee to drown the disappointed gremlins that clawed at her stomach. 

It wasn’t that she was disappointed by discovering he had a decent marriage, since he’d already told her that.  The disappointment came from Cassidy acknowledging she was something he wanted – and was about to lose.

“Sorry,” he apologized as he approached from behind to curl his arms atop hers.  “I thought I’d be finished by the time you were.”

Her head swiveled gingerly to offer a smile over her shoulder.  “No problem.  Libby didn’t yak my ear off like I thought she would or I wouldn’t have been out so quick.  She wants to see the pictures.”

“I’ll send them to you,” he promised and placed a gentle kiss below her ear.  “One of the few times I ever downloaded pictures of myself, but I kinda liked ‘em.”

“Mm.  I expect I’ll be keepin’ ‘em, too,” she confessed.  “I wasn’t totally kiddin’ about the selfie.  Just wish I’d gotten one at the studio to commemorate workin’ with a legend.”

“I think Obie took some while we were working.  Check with him.” 

His presence at her back disappeared and she peeked around to find him moving toward the desk, where he snagged his phone from the surface.   When his heat once again warmed her spine, he snugged one arm round her while the other lifted the phone in front of them.

“What are you doin’?” she laughed quietly as his thumb activated the camera feature. 

“You wanted a selfie, so we’re taking a selfie.”

When he struck the button that switched the camera focus from the view of Nashville to their faces, she couldn’t help but smile.  His chin was tucked into the curve of her shoulder and, while the smile beneath his bedhead wasn’t vibrant, it carried the same tranquil contentment that shone in his eyes.  How could she resist a memento that documented her ability to content this complex man, even if only for a short time?

“Okay.”  A moderately commanding finger jabbed at her ribs.  “Say ‘happy’.”

“Happy,” she obediently parroted and smiled as though their future held nothing but rainbows.  In that moment, wrapped in his arms and wearing nothing but his shirt, she chose to pretend that was the truth. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to be delusional for a split second, would it?

Her daydreaming served a legitimate purpose, as it turned out, because the resulting photo was…

“Beautiful.”

“Not bad,” she downplayed, while thinking the very same thing.  “Send me that one, too?”

Cassidy gently eased from his embrace and the tail of his white shirt tickled her thighs as she went to the room service cart to warm her coffee before claiming one of the chairs in the living room.  It was actually a perfect shot that displayed how good he looked next to her.  She was going to spend a lot of time gawking at that one. 

His fingers tapped and swiped, resulting in the distant chime of a text message from the bedroom, before he returned his phone to the desk. 

“Done.” 

Grabbing his own coffee cup, he turned to accept the carafe from her and gave himself a refill as well.  It was returned to the cart in short order and he followed her to the seating area to occupy the end of the couch nearest her chair. 

When he brought the balls of his feet up to the edge of the coffee table, Cassidy’s eye caught on the dull dragon tattoo that encircled his left ankle.  It was nearly as faded as the two on his shoulders, and their neglect had her wondering he regretted them.

“If you had it to do over again, would you?”  The question was accompanied by a bump of her big toe against the faded dragon scales.

“What?”  He turned his ankle as though he’d never seen it before.  “That tattoo?”

“Any of the tattoos.  I hear some folks get buyers’ remorse and, since I don’t have any personal experience to draw on, I was curious about yours.”

“Tattoos wouldn’t suit you,” he observed while sipping his coffee.  “And mine were impulsive decisions, so I can’t really say whether I’d do it again.  Aren’t we supposed to be talking about something else?”

When she shrugged, Jon’s scent wafted from the button-down she’d borrowed from him, and Cassidy subtly tried to inhale it all before she was forced to deliver the unwanted news.  In the grand scheme of things, she’d chosen the path that most protected them both, but it didn’t mean she liked it – or that he would.

“Not much talkin’ to do.  You’ve prob’ly got a lot of Titan stuff to get done today and, while you do that, I’m gonna go find a new hair color.  If I can entice you, then we’ll have another romp between the sheets before I head back to Pasquo to pack my things and disappear again.  That about covers it.”

His feet dropped to the floor and Jon leaned forward to prop finely muscled forearms on his knees with the coffee cup suspended between them.  “Not quite.  Putting aside the major flaws in that plan, the biggest problem I have right now is that you still haven’t explained the self-imposed witness protection program.”

Nor did she expect to do so.  Bringing the details of her poor judgment to light would put him in an awkward position and she just wasn’t willing to be an even bigger factor in compromising his integrity.    

“The details aren’t important,” she deflected.  “Hopefully, it will only be a short time until life returns to normal.”

“The more you avoid the question, the more determined I become to know.”

Sighing, she levered up to place her cup on the coffee table and regard him directly.  “You knowin’ isn’t gonna change anything.  I’ve still gotta do what I have to do.”

Jon mentally rolled his eyes.  This stubborn Scarlett O’Hara independence shit was kinda cute, but it was also starting to piss him off.  There were a million arguments just waiting to be made here – he could help, he might have a better solution, he wouldn’t have to worry that some psycho redneck was going to tie and gag her with a rebel flag… 

All of those were valid rebuttals to her asinine unreasonableness, but each of them led to the likelihood of her shooting out more unreasonable garbage until he was full-blown pissed.  She was his cloud of happy and, as he’d already said once this morning, Jon didn’t want to argue with her. 

He did want to know what in the hell was going on, though, and he had an idea of how to make that happen.

Calling up his most engagingly understated smile, he put his empty coffee cup on the table alongside hers and rose to extend an inviting hand.  The surprised confusion that mottled Cassidy’s features had one side of that smile kicking a little higher, but she did accept his grasp and the silent invitation to stand with him.

When rosebud lips parted to ask questions, he dipped low to swallow her curiosity.  The coffee was deliciously richer on her than it had been from his cup, and Jon angled his head to drink more deeply.

“Mmmmmmmm.”

Her purr was a soft, sensual stroke of velvet that invited him to not only drink but drown in their intermingled flavors.  It would be easy, so very easy, to lose himself in the erotic fusion of their mouths.  He could carelessly find himself surrendering to the sultry lips that suckled at his, or falling prey to the flirty tongue that chased his in search more intimate indulgence.

But there was more than an orgasm on his agenda.

“Well, that’s a pleasant change of topic,” she murmured when he grudgingly pried free of her mouth.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Smiling down into her eyes, Jon lightly tugged her hand as encouragement to follow him to the bedroom.  “You wanted to entice me for a romp.  Consider me enticed.”

“There’s no way you just got turned on like a light switch,” she chuckled from behind him.  “But the lure of sex with you is invitin’ enough that I’ll put aside my good sense for a few minutes.”

He approached the foot of the bed and released her hand, hoping like hell that it would be longer than a few minutes. 

“Why don’t you unbutton that shirt?” he suggested while circling to his side of the bed for the jeans he’d kicked there last night.  “But keep it on.  It has a definite appeal.”

Her throaty laugh was nothing short of dirty hot and, when he picked up the jeans, Jon looked up to discover her eyes carried the same sentiment.  He also took note that his white button-down now hung open at her midline, covering the rounded edges of both bare breasts yet exposing her from neck to tiny white panties.  It looked far better on her than it ever had him, he thought while pulling his belt free from the denim.

“Ohhhh…  It’s my very favorite masculine accessory.” 

A wide grin could not be suppressed.  Her bizarre infatuation with his goddamn belt still mystified him, but he had counted on it and was going to take full advantage of her little fetish. 

“So is it this belt,” Jon inquired conversationally as he stroked the leather and slowly approached her.  “Or belts in general?”

“Mm.”  Her riveted eyes briefly tore from the object of her fascination to meet his before flicking back down again.  “Might just be yours?  I’ve never been quite this enamored with one before.”

“Hey.”  Jon quietly requested that she redirect her attention back to his face, and he received reluctant compliance.  “You remember me saying I’m gonna tie you up with it someday?”

A slow, steady nod assured him that she did and the dilation of her pupils publicized the idea as an arousing one.  She was on board.  He knew it as well as he knew his own name, but Jon would still do the right thing and offer her the chance to refuse. 

“Just so there’s no misunderstanding…”  A lazy wink had her biting at her bottom lip.  “’Someday’ arrives in about three seconds.  You ready?”

Cassidy was a good looking woman at any time but, Jesus Christ, she was gorgeous with the bloom of desire in her cheeks.  And when she held out her arms in mute submission…? 

Who in God’s name cares why she’s in hiding? 

Okay, he did.  Not as much as he did a few minutes ago, but the need to know still gnawed – nibbled – at him.

“I take that as a yes,” he murmured, placing the leather gently against the delicate skin of her inner wrists. 

“I’m trustin’ you to be a gentlemanly scoundrel.”

Chuckling at her very Southern oxymoron, he pressed his thumb against a spot about six inches from the end of the belt and anchored it there while binding the remaining length around her wrists– once, twice, three times.  When he was able to wedge a finger between the belt and her arm, he found the fit to be restrictive but not over-tight.  That satisfied him and he fastened the untethered end into the buckle.

“I don’t think you’ll have too many complaints when I’m done.”

It would be incredibly convenient if the hotel bed was one of those four-poster deals, but it was the standard garden-variety with the headboard attached to the wall and no footboard.  He was willing to be as creative as his environment required and Jon glanced around to survey the room’s offerings.

Nightstands, chair, bed, dresser, television – nothing that would help enforce Cassidy’s captivity if she grew tired of it.  He was just going to have to hope she was pre-disposed to play along until the very end.  

In the even that she wasn’t…  Well, Jon was bigger and stronger than her.  He would still get what he wanted.