Easier to Run (26 page)

“Who was her lawyer during the trial?”

I’d met him several times before Cassie’s hearing, but all I could remember was that it was something uncommon that sounded remotely like a composer. “Uh, Stravinsky, or something like that.”

“Arthur Strawinski? That’s a raw deal. He’s been the topic of many discussions lately. Let me make some calls and see what I can dig up on the case. Think you can stop by the office tomorrow?”

My breath caught in my chest. “Tomorrow?”

“Too soon?”

“No, it’s perfect. I just didn’t expect to get anything moving so quickly.”

“Believe me, I get the sitting around and worrying about this shit. Pardon the language, I’m not used to putting on my professional mask for you. The sooner we can get everything put together for a restraining order, the better.”

I was so relieved, it felt like my chest opened up for the first time in days. “Cassie’s napping, but I’ll talk to her about it tonight. I just want to give her some kind of peace of mind.”

“No problem. Can you email me all of the details—anything you can give me that might make my research go a little quicker? I’d like to get a good jump on it for her.”

“Sure.”

Once I had finished up my call, I went downstairs to check on Cassie. At first glance, she looked to be peacefully sleeping, but then she moaned and rolled over.

I sprinted down the last few stairs. “Cas?”

She moaned again, then woke with a loud gasp and sat straight up.

“Bug?”

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “And I’m not just saying that, it’s fine.” She blew out a long breath, staring more across the room than at me.

“Was it a bad dream? You were making quite the commotion in your sleep?”

“I was?” She covered her mouth, and pink hues dotted her skin moving up from her neck and covering her face.

I chuckled and pulled her hand away from her face, but she still wouldn’t look at me. “What were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing.” She quickly slid down the bed and jumped off the foot. Then, ran to the bathroom.

“Cassie.” I chased after her but she slammed the door in my face. “You can’t hide in there all night.”

“Shut up. And go away, Ben.”

I sighed and sat down on the couch to wait for her.

Cassie

I leaned against the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was a complete mess, and my face was still flushed and hot. I used my fingers to straighten my hair, marginally, and then I splashed some cold water over my face.

That stupid dream
. That
awesome
dream, but why’d it have to come at such an inopportune time. I had half a mind to walk out into the other room, jump Ben, and bring the dream to life—but that just wouldn’t work in his parents’ basement.

My face heated again, and I wondered how much noise I’d been making. I was sure making plenty in the dream. I lowered the toilet seat lid and sat down, rubbing my hands over my face.

A had asked Ben to take me to Florida, and I dreamed of just that. Except my dream involved far less clothes. And probably would have led to sand in some painful places. I felt my face heat again as I thought about it. The images were still vivid in my head—every feeling, every sensation, and touch, and taste.

Just thinking about it was working me up even more.

I pressed my thighs together, feeling the painful burn in my core.

Why now
? I wanted it. I didn’t care where we were. I wanted him. I wanted another night of knowing nothing but him. A night when I could forget about all of the nightmares. And forget how they kept leaking into my reality bit by bit.

After a few more moments trying to compose myself, I finally took a breath and popped the door open.

Ben was grinning from ear to ear when I stepped out and I knew whether I explained or not, he’d already figured out what happened.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“No, not really at all. You should have left me asleep.”

“Sorry,” he was still grinning so I doubted it. “I thought it was a
bad
dream.”

“Would have been if anyone upstairs heard.” I dropped to the couch next to him.

“Don’t look so miserable,” he said, dragging me closer and kissing my shoulder. “I can always help you out with that later.”

“You are impossible.” I tried to shrug him off, but he refused to let go. “And not helping.”

With a huff of exasperation, I laid back against his chest. “If they were my grandparents, they’d never leave us down here alone.”

“Must’ve been pretty suffocating.” His voice was low and had a rough grumble to it.

Even his voice could turn me on when we were talking about my grandparents.

“Yeah,”
to say the least
. “All I wanted was privacy and time to myself, but they acted like every time I went behind a closed door I was doing something I shouldn’t be. It made me want to rebel even more.”

Ben chuckled. “Maybe that’s why I never really had the rebel urge. I mean, I’ve done plenty of stupid shit—I’m not denying that, but I guess Mom and Dad figured if they gave us all enough room to nearly hang ourselves every now and then, we’d figure it out and come back when we needed help.” He nipped at my shoulder and I jumped. “Luckily they used bungee cord instead of rope so we wouldn’t do any permanent damage in the meantime.”

I laughed. “You are such a goob.”

“But I make you laugh.” He kissed my neck again. Every time, it was like he found a direct link to my pleasure centers. One touch there, and I fell to pieces. One touch made me the most vulnerable I had ever feel tin my life. And in his arms, that vulnerability was safe and reassuring. Hopeful. I never wanted that feeling to fade.

“I called a lawyer while you were asleep,” he said slowly. “I found one who would meet with us tomorrow morning and try to get your records so we can get everything sorted out, as well as making sure there’s a restraining order put in place as soon as possible.”

Restraining order. Sounded like a useless piece of paper. I didn’t want to deal with it, but avoiding it was getting me nowhere. My old lawyer was supposed to take care of all that. Not leave me stranded to worry about it all myself. “Like Mitchel is going to abide by a restraining order.”

“Maybe, but it gives you leverage.”

“Fine,” I said. I really didn’t want to go through with it, but it was best to get it over with rather than, as Ben had said, sit and dread it. But to get in so quickly with a lawyer—it seemed too good to be true. “How’d you find someone to get us in tomorrow?”

“And, she’s an old friend,” he said much quieter.

An old friend? I had a sinking feeling. “As in one of the
seven
old friends?”

He pressed his chin against my shoulder. “Yes.”

“No,” I sat up, pulling away from him. “I am not going to a lawyer you’ve slept with.”

“She’s good at her job, Cas. And that
one
night was years ago.”

“Right, so while I’m sitting there talking about the man who….” I still had trouble saying it. “You know. She’s going to be thinking about being in bed with you.”

“I doubt that. I’m yours, Cassie. You have nothing to worry about there. But she can get things moving, and you know that no one else is going to get us in this quick.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier that it’s a
favor
from a fuck buddy.”

“Then, don’t think of it like that. She’s a nice person. A very good lawyer, and I just happen to know her. She has a vested interest in helping sexual assault survivors. She
wants
to help.”

I leaned forward and rubbed the throbbing muscles at the back of my neck. “Fine. But if she gives you one of those looks, we’re so out of there.”

“Deal.”

His dad’s voice echoed down the stairs, and I jumped at the sudden loud intrusion. “Dinner.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Ben yelled.

“We better go up and eat,” I whispered, even though I was reluctant to move. I still expected suspicious glares and questions as soon as we left our basement sanctuary.

I wasn’t used to all this freedom, and after so many years, that had become the scary thing. I was afraid of trying to find myself. Afraid of failing. Afraid that the world would come crashing down on me again at any moment.

Afraid that Mitchel would come barging in.

Damn
, I had too many fears to breathe.

Ben held my hand as we climbed the stairs, but I couldn’t get over the overwhelming urge to pull it away as soon as his parents saw us. They were already seated at the kitchen table, chatting over serving bowls of mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken dumplings.

My heart swelled until it felt like it would explode as I remembered growing up next door to Ben and his family. They had felt as much like my family as my own. I always had someone to run to, someone to pick me up when I fell, someone to tend to a scraped knee or a broken heart. I’d missed those feelings after I moved away.

I missed gathering around for football games. Huddling around a bonfire on cold fall evenings and roasting hotdogs and marshmallows. It’d been almost seven years since I’d had a marshmallow cooked over a fire. How do people live without those things? One Easter, we even took to roasting Peeps. After all they tasted nasty on their own, and slightly better when burnt to a crisp on the outside. At the very least, it was entertaining to watch them puff up and ignite.

Ben squeezed my hand, and we sat down. Chuck gave me a wide smile as I scooted in my chair across from him, and inhaled the delicious smell of dinner.

I had eaten every day for the last six years, walked by the same flowers, under the same sky, breathed the same air, but until I came back, it was all bland and muted. It hadn’t been the drugs that turned me into a zombie—although some of them certainly didn’t help. It was my mind, my defenses, trying not to hold on to anything to tightly. Trying not to enjoy anything. It was a safety mechanism.

My mouth watered as I ladled dumplings over my mashed potatoes, and piled green beans next to them.

I handed the green beans over to Beth, and she accepted with a beaming smile that never ended. “Ben says you’re interested in getting into photography.”

“Yeah, I heard a studio in town might be looking for an assistant.”

We spent the rest of the evening talking about memories—food fights at birthday parties, football games, and all the crazy stuff we used to do as kids that eventually got us into trouble. Stress and worries faded to a dull roar in the back of my mind. Just like that, the people who were a huge part of my childhood became my family again.

Or maybe it was only in my imagination’s bitter façade that they’d ever been gone.

Life went on while I was stuck in a living purgatory, but so many of the things I’d told myself were lost and gone over the years were simply waiting for me to take the first step toward coming back and putting my own life back together.

After our plates were cleared, Ben inched his chair closer to mine, and draped his arm over my shoulders. He continued leaning closer and closer as we talked and laughed. Hours later, we were still sitting there, as if the night had just begun, except my butt was starting to go numb. By then, I was leaned against Ben’s shoulder with my fingers laced with his, and my legs stretched out. His parents didn’t even blink when we held hands, and every touch felt more and more natural.

“I hadn’t realized how late it is,” Chuck said, glancing at his watch and yawning. “It’s past my bedtime.” 

“Mine, too,” Ben said, laying his cheek against the top of my head.

“Well, I’ll see y’all tomorrow,” Chuck said, kissing his wife goodnight, then carrying a stack of dishes into the kitchen.

“I’ll throw everything in the dishwasher tomorrow,” Beth said as she continued clearing the table. I stood to help her, but she grabbed my wrist and shook her head. “I got it, sweetie.”

She patted my shoulder as she passed, and I leaned into Ben again.

“Not as bad as you predicted?” he whispered, pressing his lips close to my ear.

I hummed in agreement. “Don’t go and make it awkward now.”

He didn’t listen, capturing me in a long, slow kiss. 

“Ah, the trappings of young love,” Beth said, and I jerked straight up. She merely smirked and picked up the rest of the dishes. “Good night, you two.”

“Between this and Brantley, I think I’m fated to die of embarrassment,” I murmured.

“It gets less embarrassing,” he said, pulling me up from my seat.

“The sausage jokes in public get less embarrassing?”

Ben simply chuckled, leading me back to the basement.

Cassie

We’d barely made it halfway down the stairs, before Ben’s hands were on me, holding me by the waist and pushing me against the wall while his mouth crashed against mine. I wanted to wait until we weren’t staying at his parents’ house, but then again, I never wanted to wait again.

I wanted to stop letting things stop me from fully surrendering to the things I wanted, the things that made me feel happy. Loved. Alive.

We staggered together down the remaining stairs, neither of us wanting to break that kiss, to lose each other’s touch. He ripped my shirt up over my head, but when my hands went for his, he stopped me.

“One thing,” he breathed into my ear. “I didn’t bring condoms.”

I almost exploded out of my skin, but Ben just grinned.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he kissed my neck, right in that sweet spot and I lost my breath. “I’m still going to take care of your problem.”

He swung me around, then lifted me up onto the bed. He pressed his palm between my legs, rubbing me through my jeans.

I didn’t care. Didn’t care what the plan was, where we were. I just wanted him to keep going. He kissed my bare stomach as his fingers worked at the button and zipper on my jeans. Then, he slid my pants and underwear off and tossed them off the foot of the bed. He kissed my knee and rubbed my thighs as he moved to sit in between my legs.

I watched him work, the look on his face--intense and possessing yet relaxed as he watched every detail of my reactions.

I tried to stay quiet, but when my body and instinct took over, my better sense felt like a hapless bystander. His fingers slid into me and I gasped. Every small motion and touch inched me closer to ecstasy. I squeezed the ruffled blankets under me. He leaned over me, his mouth inches from my stomach, but he didn’t kiss me or touch me except with his hot breath that brushed against me in short pants.

My legs parted as his breath inched down my stomach, until he was between my legs. All the while, his fingers continued to stroke and stretch me.

His mouth—his hot wet lips, sealed over my clit and sucked. I bucked under him, the intensity of the sensation surging through me like electricity.

I moaned and gasped, unable to stop the sounds as my body rocked and shook against his every touch.

I was spread, allowing him access to anything he wanted or decided to do. His fingers left me, and I whimpered at the empty feeling until his tongue parted me and lapped at my wetness.

I was burning with desire and pleasure. The sensations vibrated up my veins and quieted everything in my head until there was only Ben.

He licked and sucked, fucked me with his fingers, kissed my thighs, until my legs quaked against the bed and my fingers dug into the soft mattress under me.

“Oh,” I gasped, unable to find words. “Oh.” My breath caught in my chest, every muscle twitching under the strain until the room exploded in a flash.

I pulled a pillow over my face, moaning into it as my body bucked with the throbbing orgasm.

When the sensations fading, I sank into the bed, and felt Ben’s body move over top of me. He pulled the pillow away and kissed me. Slow and delicate, filled with the taste of sex.

The taste of me. I pressed up against him. I was fully sated, but it didn’t mean I could ever get enough of his touch.

The love that flowed through every moment and every caress.

I felt his throbbing erection, trapped inside the tight material of his pants, pressing at my core.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” I whispered.

“I’m content watching you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” I rocked my hips to rub against him.

His smile turned sly and needy. “Well it’s going to get difficult if you keep doing that.”

I bit my lip and pulled the front of his pants open, slipping my hand inside and grabbing his hot, throbbing member.

Even with that little touch, Ben gasped in my ear. I slid his pants and boxer briefs down over his hips, setting him free. Then, I nudged him with my knee and he rolled to the bed beside me. I had no idea what I was doing, or where to even start, so I pulled up his shirt and mimicked the attention he’d shown to me.

Ben

Cassie’s look was a mix of apprehension and determination, but all she had to do was give me that look, mixed with the press of her lips and the delicate touch of her breath to put me on edge.

Her fingers traced the bulges and lines of my stomach muscles while she left a line of kisses down my sternum, and around the edges of the tattoo. The markings one of the few secrets I kept from my family, but that seemed useless now. Cassie was the lightning that lived under my skin. The memory I couldn’t ever rid myself of no matter how much I tried. The static charge that built around my heart, holding it captive and making it unavailable to anyone until I had her back.

She crouched between my legs taking my cock in one hand and stroking it. I’d never felt insecure in bed, never wondered what I was supposed to do, or not do, but at that moment, I felt like self-aware teenager. It was the look on Cassie’s face that gave me the feeling—mixed determination and insecurity showed in her eyes. She wasn’t used to taking the upper hand, but I let her have it, fully confident that whatever she did would send me over the edge. I felt like she could sit there staring at me and stroking my cock and it’d never get old.

She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip and stared up at me, before lowering her head and taking me in her mouth.

I gasped and tried to lay still, letting her explore without inadvertently ramming myself down her throat. She pressed her tongue against my head, licking and sucking as her hands pressed into my legs, rubbing and caressing every piece of exposed skin as she had my abs.

She took me deeper, and slowly, deeper, then squeezed her hand around the base of my cock.

I groaned and reached down, grabbing a handful of her hair as she stared up at me. My cock held tightly between her beautiful pink lips.

Had she done this before? I truly didn’t want to think of that question.

She sucked and stroked, until my hips shook from holding back. Every time I groaned in reaction to her movement, she looked up at me, increasing her attention until she got another reaction.

I dug my fists and hips into the mattress. I wanted to buck and thrust as the tingling tension built. Starting in the base of my spine, and consuming by balls and cock.

“I’m going to come,” I grunted. Barely getting out the warning, but I didn’t want to subject her to exploding in her mouth if she wasn’t ready for it. But instead of pulling away, she squeezed me and sucked harder until the orgasm burst through me.

I felt her jump and remain tense for a second, before her tongue and mouth worked every final drop of the orgasm out of my bod.

She crawled up my body and laid on my chest. I pulled her against me, pressing her against my sensitive and sated cock.

I threaded my fingers through her hair and pulled her mouth up so I could take it again. Her tongue tasted salty and sweet with the remnants of her gift to me.

Her love, our bond, was stronger with every touch and kiss.

“I love you,” I whispered and nuzzled her neck. “Not so bad for a first timer?”

“Perfect, baby.” I rubbed my thumb against her jawline. She’d told me that I was hers from the moment she saw me through the fence. She had captivated me on that day as well. The quiet girl who wasn’t like everyone else. The standards of the rest of the world never applied to her because what everyone else saw outwardly as a flaw—her stutter—I saw as a sign of how special she was. When she didn’t hold back, she was a force to be reckoned with. And what she did hold back, I was content in knowing, would be mine.

We curled up on our sides, and I held her to my chest through the night.