How Cassie Got Her Grind Back (20 page)

Good. She hurried down the hall, to secret the box of condoms and her other illicit paraphernalia in her nightstand drawer, when the scent of her vanilla bean candles burning hit her nostrils, and she came to a screeching halt.

Well, that was a little presumptuous—

“Hello, baby,” Ivan said as he appeared in the doorway, looking ready to do battle. “You have company…or rather
we
do.”

She peeked in and looked to the bed, where Bill was standing nearby, zipping up his pants.

“Bill! What the hell are you doing here, and why are you undressed?” She sniffed, and over the scent of her candles, she caught the scent of her pricey body wash, bought special with a gift card from Madeleine’s. “What are you doing in my house—using my bath products?”

Bill held up a finger. “My house—still. I thought I’d surprise you with a bit of
romance
.”

Ivan made a snorting sound. “You were lying on her bed buck-ass naked, pulling on your pud. You wanted to get
laid
.”

Cassie recoiled at the mental image of him doing such a thing and was glad she’d not been here to witness it. Remembering the bag in her hand, Cassie stowed the entire contents in the bottom drawer of her dresser and rounded on her ex-husband. “Get out.”

“I have just as much right to be here. This is still my house. He came in just pretty as you please—”

“Because I told him he could. Bill, we’re going to have a discussion about the house, and that key, which I asked you to leave here last time you let yourself in uninvited.”

Bill was suddenly all business. “Yes, I think we do need to have a discussion about it. I know what I want, Cassie, and neither this loser nor his brother is stopping me from getting what I want. I want you.”

“Hmm,” she muttered. “When you found out I had to have surgery, you told me I was allowing myself to be neutered and sex would be a thing of the past. I don’t know why you thought that, but you were right in a way. Sex
with you
is a thing of the past. I’ve come to realize the day you served me with divorce papers was the day my life actually started. Why on earth would I possibly take you back?”

“We need to talk—”

“Maybe we do. And maybe we should have our lawyers present. This arrangement between us, regarding the house, has turned into a bad deal for me.”

Bill huffed, and the expression on his face was a familiar one. The martyr. She’d seen it numerous times over the years. “Baby, come on. Send him away. Let’s talk.” He stuck out his pouty lip, and she had the immature impulse to grab it and yank it over his head.

Ivan made a disgusted sound. “If she put up with your bullshit for nearly thirty years, asshole, I guess it’s no wonder your date dropped you like a hot potato and went on with Andrew Portman to the Dancing Pony after the reunion last weekend.”

Cassie blinked. “She
did
?”

Ivan grinned but kept his eyes on Bill. “Hank told me they left together and then showed up at the Pony after we left. You blew your chance, Bill. Be a good loser for once.”

Hatred gleamed in Bill’s eyes as he stared back at Ivan and grinned. “Maybe so, but I got to pop Cassie’s cherry.”

Cassie gasped at Bill’s audacity and the magnitude of her error in judgment, leading to three decades of an unhappy marriage, sharpened into a painful ache in her chest. What kind of a person said such things? What kind of an idiot was she for marrying someone who would say such things?

Ivan shook his head. “That’s enough. You’re done here.”

It was a good thing Bill had already put his shoes back on and picked up his wallet because Ivan grabbed him by his shirt collar and frog-marched him down the hall. Bill hollered the whole way. “Get your stinking hands off of me, fucker! I’m filing assault charges!
This is my house
!”

“Call Hank once I get your stupid, horny ass outside. I’d be happy to explain how I found you naked in her house, without her permission, masturbating on her bed. That’d go over well at the bank once the gossip mill gets hold of the story.”

A low thump against one of the walls echoed through the house, and then Ivan lowered his voice so all Cassie heard was the raspy growl of it. A brief struggle ensued, and then Bill yelled, “Like hell she will! Cass! It’s not over between us, not by a long shot! You’ll never find another man like me!”

Rubbing her forehead, Cassie whispered, “That’s what I’m hoping for, you jerk.”

Ivan closed the front door with a solid thump, locked the deadbolt, and then chained the door while Bill continued his tirade outside.

Cassie made sure the drawer was closed on the dresser, all her sexy plans withering on the vine, ruined by all of the drama and words that shouldn’t have been spoken. She’d wanted to retain an amicable relationship with her ex for Joseph and Tamara’s sake, but the son of a bitch was pushing it by shaming her for the very thing she’d thought was special. She’d saved herself…for
that
.

“You okay?” Ivan asked as he met her in the entry to the hallway.

She nodded and went to the kitchen island and got out the cutting board for the vegetables. Ivan took the board from her and placed his hand over hers as she gripped the chopping knife in the wooden block on the counter. “Hey, I’m supposed to be cooking for you. Why don’t you have a seat here,” he said, indicating the bar stool he pulled around the island for her, “and I’ll get this chopped up and sautéing for us.”

“What did you say to him before you threw him out?”

He gazed at her as he debated, and then he laid the knife on the counter. “I told him there would come a morning where he’d wake up alone and realize just how perfect you were, honey—and that he’d lost you, and when that day came, you’d be waking up with men who already knew how perfect you were. Sorry, I know it was presumptuous on my part since I’m the third wheel, but after what he said about you… I couldn’t let the opportunity slide.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she said as she put her hands to her cheeks, feeling as though she was outside her body, watching him watch her as he peeled the onion. He’d just described her ultimate fantasy, but the ache from Bill’s spiteful words overshadowed everything.

A furrowed brow marred his smile, and he gave a shake of his head. “Sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for, baby.” He set everything down and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against his big, solid frame. He kissed the side of her head and whispered, “I don’t know why he’d say such cruel things in your hearing.”

“I don’t understand it either,” she murmured, her voice muffled as she pressed her cheek to his chest. “He got me right where it hurts.”

“You’re a lovely, loyal, and faithful woman. I wanted to hit him. What he said was uncalled for.”

She looked up at him while holding on to his arms around her. “What if I regretted saving myself for him?”

Shifting his stance, he brushed his nose against hers. “What-if is a losing game to play. Everything happened the way it did, and there’s no changing it, but if you’d given yourself to Samson…or to me…there would’ve been no going back. Neither of us would’ve been able to let you go, beautiful. Not in a million years. And if either of us had been lucky enough to have claimed you first, you can take it to the bank we’d never discuss the fact with anyone else, especially not in so crude a fashion.”

Her cheeks grew hot as she imagined him being “the one,” and she tightened her arms around him, welcoming his kiss, opening to him. She fumbled to get her arms around his shoulders and his neck and moaned as he bent her slightly backward, making her hang on to him.

Finally, he drew away, out of breath and flushed, his eyes heavy lidded. “Baby, let me feed you first. Then I want to make a meal out of you. Will you let me?”

Panting, she let go of him and took a seat on the barstool to give her shaky legs a chance to recover. “What would you do?”

“Show me where your large cast-iron skillet is first, and then I’ll tell you.” The trace of a smile and glimmer in his eyes made her pussy go liquid.

She pointed to the cabinet containing her best cast-iron skillet and chuckled when he looked at it with something akin to lust. He swiped a thin coat of olive oil around the thoroughly seasoned skillet with a paper towel and placed it on one of the large front burners and set it to low heat.

“That is beautiful,” he said, looking at her six-burner gas cooktop as he pumped soap from the dispenser by the sink into his hands. She watched as he carefully lathered them and took his time washing. He was a man who was meticulous with everything he touched.

“Like with the étouffée, I’d take my time.” After he finished peeling the onion, she watched in fascination as he held it securely in his strong hands. His fingers were long, and his nails neat, clean, and short, as he sliced the onion in half with a quick motion.

She took in a deep, cleansing breath. “I’ll bet.”

He turned the onion and sliced in the other direction, producing a completely diced onion in seconds. “I’d let things heat up, but not too hot, not at first.” Next he cored and seeded the bell peppers. “Low heat is best. And I don’t rush. I never rush a good thing.” He was looking directly at her, his hands stilled, before going back to work.

She pointed to the strainer hanging in the pot rack when he asked, and he opened the package of crawfish over the sink and dumped them in to finish thawing and rinse under the tap water. After washing his hands again, he went back to chopping the bell pepper and then the celery and then smashed a clove of garlic under the flat of the blade.

“If I let things get hot too fast, like with the garlic, the aroma and the essence peak too early, and it’s just so much cooked, smooshed vegetable in the skillet and the scent of singed garlic hangs in the air for a long time.” He scrunched his nose in distaste, and she giggled. All his food analogies were totally turning her on, and
then
he said, “I want it to peak as I put a bite in your mouth. I want you to moan because it’s so good the flavors burst on your tongue.”

Holy crap, I think I just burst!

She licked her lips and giggled as his gaze fastened onto her mouth, and he licked his lips before going back to work. He tested the heat of the skillet and added butter to it and smiled as it liquefied and spread slowly in the pan. “See? No odor, no smoke, just a slow…melting.”

She squirmed in her seat, slowly melting, and patted her damp forehead as he tossed handfuls of onion, pepper, and celery into the skillet with the garlic. “You are such a tease. You make cooking a very sensual experience.”

Standing in front of the stove, stirring the vegetables as they began to coat with melted butter, he looked so at ease, self-confident, as he shot her a sexy grin. “It’s a good thing.”

He adjusted the heat again and then came to her, drawing close enough she had to spread her thighs to accommodate him. The motion drew her attention to how tingly and wet she was getting and how much she wanted him there, touching her and stroking her with those capable fingers. His hands were warm through the fabric of her slacks as he rested them on her thighs. “Are you wet?”

His body heat drew her to him, so comforting and exciting at the same time, and he shuddered as she brushed her lips against his throat and whispered, “Very. And I’m so hot, too.”

Ivan bit his lip, and his eyes smoldered as he gazed into hers. “How hot?”

“Simmering. Slowly.”

“Not too hot?”

“Not yet,” she whispered. “But I want to be.”

He backed up an inch. “You want to be?”

She held his gaze, tipping on the edge of one of the biggest decisions she’d ever made in her life. Continue on, celibate and unfulfilled…or take a chance. “Samson?”

“Wishes like hell he was here right now.”

“I do, too.” She shivered as he stroked her cheekbone and reached up to hold his hand against her cheek. “I don’t know what the protocol is here. I know my friends are happy in their physical…
sexual
relationships, but I’ve never asked any of them how they actually started.”

Ivan nodded, and vulnerability shone in his eyes, which reassured her. She didn’t like feeling at a disadvantage. “It’ll be late when Samson gets done, but I took the liberty of texting him your address.”

“I’ll put an extra key under the potted plant on the porch for him. Do you think he’ll come?”

“He might. I’ll let him know about the key.”

Her breathing was shallow, as if she’d just run around the block. “Will…will you stay, Ivan? Stay here, with me, if that’s okay?”

“If it’s what you want, but I’m not sure how well I’ll resist temptation.”

“I didn’t ask you to resist,” she murmured before he leaned down to meet her halfway in a kiss. “I’ll make the rice, if you’d like?”

He shook his head. “Let me take care of feeding you. I want to.”

Nodding, she looked around the kitchen, which was already tidy, besides his slight mess, and then she turned. “I’ll be in the back.”

“Doing what?”

She peered out the front windows and was pleased to see Bill was indeed gone. She’d been in such a rush to get inside and hide her goodies earlier that she’d never even noticed his Lexus parked out front. “You said you found Bill on my bed, right?”