Ravenous next book 3, p.12
Ravenous (NeXt Book 3), page 12
I’m naïve, not stupid.
When I don’t hear anyone talking, I repeat my hello and add, “You really didn’t need to call. I’m fine. I was just fantasizing about a day at the beach, so don’t worry, I’m fine.”
Two fines in one explanation is the international sign that I’m not fine, but hopefully, she doesn’t pick up on that. I certainly don’t need to spend the next half hour trying to convince her that I am, indeed, fine.
“Savannah, it’s Cash. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
The sound of his deep voice hits me like a slap to my face, and I sit bolt upright in the bed, stunned he’s on the phone talking to me. “Cash?”
“Yes. Are you busy?”
Right now, my entire body is shaking. I guess that’s technically busy.
I stammer out an answer, still surprised to hear him on my phone. “Uh…n—no, not exactly.”
“Well, I was hoping I could come over. I’d like to see you.”
Oh, God. Every single word my sister said to me tonight rushes through my brain. He used me to feel better. Of course, he doesn’t really have any interest. He works for an escort service. It’s his job. Don’t be a fool, Savannah.
It was never meant to be.
She’s probably right. About all of it. Every last syllable she said to me is probably true. Still, I’m tired of being alone. I’m twenty-seven and should have the right to live my life as I see fit. And if that means making a jackass out of myself because I don’t want to be lonely for yet another night, then let me do that. At least it will be fun for a few hours.
So, even though I know I should tell him no, I can’t. Loneliness has made me desperate for human interaction. I can’t help it.
“Okay. Come over.”
Just three simple words, but they feel like a declaration for me. I’m not going to pretend that living a life of seclusion is what I want. Carson wouldn’t want this for me either.
“I’ll see you in a little while.”
Tossing the phone onto the bed, I look around like I need someone to tell me that just happened. Cash called and wants to see me. Not as a job. To see me as a man sees a woman.
All of this is happening so fast. Should I have said no when he asked to come over? Should I have told him to call me tomorrow? I know exactly what Cheyenne is going to say when she finds out.
“He called because he wanted to get laid. That was a booty call.”
Damn, I hope so. Talking is nice, but I’m not in the mood to have a sad conversation about loss tonight.
Nervous but excited, I leap out of bed and hurry over to my closet. What should I wear? Nothing too formal. He’s not going to believe I sit around my house in a full length gown. Nothing too casual either, though. I want him to think I look good enough to have sex with, not that I just rolled out of bed.
My eyes scan every outfit on the rod in front of me. My blue capris and that white t-shirt that always looks so nice with it? No. I look too much like a PTA mom in that. I want him to think I look sexy but sweet, not like the mother of a precocious ten year old and the chairwoman of this year’s school fundraiser.
What about the red dress with the neckline that plunges halfway down to my belly button? I shake my head. Definitely sexy, but not exactly the vibe I want to give off for our first time together. That dress never felt right on me anyway. Cheyenne convinced me to buy it one time when she dragged me out to a club. I’ve never worn it again, and I doubt I ever will.
I lift the hanger holding that pink dress Carson always said I looked so beautiful in every time I wore it. I’ve loved this dress from the moment I saw it in the store. The shade of pink is light but looks great against my skin.
No, I shouldn’t wear that. It wouldn’t be right.
As I set that back on the rod, I spy the white sundress I bought a while back. It’s perfect! Not too formal but not too casual either. It shows off just enough to make me look sexy while letting me feel comfortable with my sweet side.
Grabbing it, I rush back across the room and toss it onto the bed before I begin to get undressed. I need to check my hair and my makeup after I put the dress on. I want everything to be as perfect as possible.
It isn’t every day a woman gets to end her dry spell of a couple years.
The doorbell rings, and my heart nearly bursts out of my chest. This is going to be fine, Savannah. Just relax. You’re two people getting together to have a good time. Nothing more. Don’t put pressure on yourself to be anything but who you are.
A woman who wants to have sex with a good looking man.
I check out my reflection in the mirror in the hallway near the front door and take a deep breath in. My makeup and hair look good. My favorite white sundress is doing its job to make my tan look even better than it actually is.
Damn, I should have put on some perfume. Too late now.
As I open the door, I take another deep breath in and try to relax. This is what happens when you don’t date for two years. A simple visit from someone you like makes you react like it’s some major state event.
Cash stands on the doorstep looking as good as always. Dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that hang low on his hips, he smiles like he’s happy to see me.
“Come in. I was surprised you called tonight. I didn’t think I’d hear from you.”
He walks in with all the confidence I wish I possessed right now. No matter. Yes, it’s been a while since I was with someone, but it’s like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it.
When I close the door, he says in a low voice, “I got your message that you wanted to get together.”
Confused, I turn around and shake my head. “I never got any call about paying. I waited, but I never heard back, so…”
I don’t want to finish that sentence. That’s not what I want tonight to be. Not that I necessarily have a problem with paying him for sex, to be honest. That’s no different than paying him to escort me to my brother’s wedding reception. I just hoped that tonight wouldn’t be about business.
Cash steps toward me and shakes his head. “I’m not here on a job, Savannah. I’m here because I like you.”
I want to say I like him too, but all that comes out of my mouth is a single, almost squeaky word. “Oh.”
He’s so close now, mere inches away, and he sounds different than any other time I’ve heard his voice. It’s deeper but softer, like he’s trying not to scare me off.
His finger trails down my forearm as he takes another step toward me, shrinking the space between us to practically nothing. “And I think you like me.”
My breath catches in my chest when I open my mouth to admit the truth that I do like him. More than like. I want him to help me banish the loneliness that’s been my constant companion in this house for the past two years.
At least for tonight.
“I do. I do like you, Cash.”
With a smile that makes me feel like I’m melting, he says, “Good.” A second later, he dips his head and his lips brush against the skin just below my neck, sending ripples of desire over every inch of my body.
My eyelids flutter closed, and at the first touch of his tongue to my neck, I move my hands up to run my fingers through his hair. I’ve waited to touch it from the moment he appeared at my door that day to take me to the wedding. Jet black and thick, I imagined it would feel incredible, but now as I let it glide over my skin, I’m surprised to find it so soft.
His hands find my waist and then move up to cup my breasts, pushing me back against the front door as he begins his exploration of my body. His touch is gentle but insistent, and I welcome it and anything else he has to offer.
My mind fills with how good this feels to have someone want me again. I inhale a deep breath, taking the earthy scent of his cologne into me. He smells warm and inviting, like a sensual summer night out in the woods under the stars with all of nature around you.
Tilting his hips, he presses his body against my belly and I know he’s aroused. He feels long and thick, and my desire ratchets up a notch at what awaits me.
“Do you want to move this to somewhere more comfortable?” he whispers in a husky voice next to my ear.
I don’t know the answer to that question. All I know is I don’t want the way he makes me feel to stop.
Cash leans back to look into my eyes and smiles. “I’m fine with right here, but I’m sure you know where’s more comfortable in your own house.”
Without thinking, I take his hand and begin to walk toward my bedroom. I don’t know where this bravery is coming from. I’ve never been this assertive in my life, but I want tonight to be something I can remember forever.
He wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck as we climb the stairs to the second floor. I slide my hands over his as they rest against my abdomen and think about how I can’t wait for what’s about to happen.
His skin is warm, and I run my palms up his forearms, teasing the hair with my fingertips. It feels masculine, and when he groans against my neck as we reach the top of the stairs, my body reacts to that sound that tells me he wants this as much as I do.
“Which room is yours?” he asks, tearing me out of the momentary ecstasy I’m enjoying at these simple preludes to what’s about to happen.
I point down the hall and turn my head to look at him. “The third room. We can go anywhere, though.”
Why I say that out loud I have no idea. I’ve wondered how I’d deal with the first time I slept with another man in this house. I moved out of our bedroom a week after the funeral, unable to sleep alone in the bed Carson and I shared. Too many memories and ghosts haunted me in that room, and even though I wasn’t ready then to move on, I knew if I stayed there night after night, I’d become trapped in the past. As much as I wanted to remain there, I couldn’t.
Cash stops us in front of the first room, and I freeze. It shouldn’t matter. Two years have passed. My husband doesn’t live here anymore. He doesn’t live anywhere, except in my memories. He’d want me to keep living. I know him. He’d wonder what the hell took me so long and would probably chastise me for living like I have for all this time.
“Third room, okay. It’s your choice, Savannah.”
I turn in his hold to look at him to see if he knows what’s running through my mind. He’s so beautiful standing here in front of me, his blue eyes boring into me full of desire.
“Cash…”
Whatever I wanted to say a moment ago evaporates into the haze of need that takes me over when he leans down to kiss me. His soft lips tease mine for a long moment before he flicks his tongue into my mouth and stuffs his hand into my hair to gently tug my head back. An ache forms between my legs, growing with every second we kiss and take another step toward my room.
I’ve always been submissive when it comes to being with men. It’s nothing I’ve ever chosen to be. It’s just who I am. With Cash, though, I have more courage than ever before, although I’m not sure why because part of me fears what’s coming as much as the rest of me wants it so badly.
Sliding my hands down his chest, I tug his t-shirt out of his jeans and touch his stomach. A thin dusting of hair covers his torso, and taut muscles strain beneath his skin. He’s hardness under softness, heat behind a cool exterior, gentleness alongside power.
And I want it all.
He guides me into my bedroom, all the while keeping our mouths locked in a kiss. I pull his shirt up toward his shoulders to take it off, and he pulls away for only the second it takes to lift the shirt over his head and toss it onto the floor. I glance at his half naked body and press my lips together, partly missing the feel of his mouth on mine and partly to stop the moan that threatens to escape as I admire how gorgeous he is.
I lean toward him to kiss him again, but his focus is on stripping my dress off. Sliding his hands up under the skirt, he glides his palms over the front of my thighs, up over my hips and breasts, until he’s ready to lift it over my head.
“Arms up,” he says, practically on a moan.
I do as he tells me to, and a second later, I’m standing in front of him in my white bra and panties. Reaching out to touch him, I miss him as he backs up, his gaze rolling over my body and making me feel exposed.
But then, he levels his gaze on my face and licks his lips. “I love that you’re in white.”
As I kick off my shoes and push them under the bed, I ask, “Why?”
“Because it fits. You seem innocent. Are you innocent, Savannah?”
The truth is I probably am, simply because I haven’t been with a man for so long, but I don’t want to be that. I want to be seductive and sensual, a temptress he can’t say no to. A goddess he seeks to please. Innocence implies he needs to be careful with me. I don’t want that.
I want him to be hard and forceful, to give me what I’ve craved night after night.
So I shake my head to answer his question.
Taking a step toward me, he runs his fingertips along my collarbone before dipping his head to place a soft kiss in the hollow at the base of my neck. It sends chills down my spine, and I shiver.
Cash looks up into my eyes and gives me a wicked smile. “I think you are innocent, but you won’t be after tonight.”
I have no idea what that means, but I can’t wait to find out.
Chapter Sixteen
Cash
Jesus, this woman has an effect on me. Standing there in just her white lace bra and panties, she looks like every guy’s innocent virgin fantasy come to life. Add to that her staring up at me with those big brown eyes like she isn’t sure what I’m about to do to her, and I don’t think my cock could get any harder.
I waited for hours before finally giving in to my desire to be with her. I’ve never slept with a client. Hell, I haven’t been on a job with one before Savannah in so long I can’t remember who the last one was.
Damon and I always had an unwritten rule when we were actually doing the escort jobs. No sleeping with the clients. Not even the incredibly gorgeous ones who practically begged to be fucked. Nope.
I prided myself on the fact that I never did back then, even though a few times I was tempted, and then when we hired enough guys to take the jobs so we could simply be the managers of the business, that problem became a non-issue. Since then, I’ve enjoyed life as the magician behind the curtain setting up our employees with the lovely women who need their services.
Until Savannah.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come over here the other night after dealing with what happened to my mother, but since then, I haven’t been able to think of anything but seeing Savannah again and finding out what this could become. I have a feeling she thinks this is all in the line of duty, that the other night and tonight are merely me doing my job as an escort, but that’s not it.
I’m here because for the first time in a long time, I can’t get a woman off my mind. I know myself well enough. Once she became all I could think about, I knew this would end up happening. It was just a matter of when, not if.
Savannah’s hand brushes against my chest, and she sets it right above my heart. “You got quiet there. Is everything okay?”
I run my fingertips over her shoulders and push the satin bra straps down onto her arms. She lets out a tiny moan that goes straight through me. I know she’s not really innocent, but there’s something about her that makes me think she hasn’t been with a man in the two years since her husband died.
That’s a long time to be alone without anyone touching you for a twenty-seven year old woman.
She reaches out and slides her finger along the top of my jeans, teasing the skin between my hips. “Did you flinch when I touched you?” she asks with a smile.
“Maybe a little,” I answer honestly.
“I want to think you’re as nervous as I am, but that’s not true, is it? You probably think I’m silly for being like I am,” she says shyly, lowering her head so I can’t see her eyes.
Lifting her chin with my finger, I see she’s afraid. “Not silly at all. You seem innocent.”
“Do you like that?”
“I like that with you.”
After a few seconds, she exhales, and I realize she’s been holding her breath since she confessed she was nervous. “You know, I’m not that innocent. I just look it now because I’ve been alone in this house too long. Please don’t feel like you need to treat me like I’m some doll who might break. I’m like any other woman. Honest.”
Her frankness makes me like her even more, and I smile at how sweet she is. “Trust me. You’re not like any other woman.”
Her fingers nimbly take care of the button on my pants, and she smiles up at me with a seductive look in her eyes that says she wants to show me just how little innocence she has. She lowers my zipper slowly, inch by inch, making me wait for her touch on me. It’s like torture, but I like seeing her like this.
“I had a fantasy the other night that I’d like to live out. Do you mind?” she asks before sitting on the bed in front of me.
Shaking my head, I see her open my pants and palm my cock. Her touch is gentle and warm, and she gives me one last look before closing her eyes and leaning down to wrap her lips around me.
Do I mind a woman going down on me? Not at all. Savannah runs her tongue along the bottom of my shaft, teasing my balls when she reaches the base and takes every inch of me into her mouth. My innocent knows how to suck cock.
I watch in rapt amazement as she works me in and out between her lips, up and down from head to base, all the while her arms wrapped around my legs so her hands cup my ass. I touch her head, stuffing my hand into her hair to set the pace so I don’t come too quickly, and she looks up at me with the sexiest expression in her eyes as my cock pops out of her mouth.
“Pull my hair. I love that when I’m going down on a man,” she says in a husky voice completely unlike how she usually sounds.
Her wish is my command, especially if it adds to her pleasure which can only add to my own. I twist my fingers in her hair at the back of her head, the dark strands tightening against my skin as she lowers to take my cock into her mouth again.
