Chapter 22 Marcus

She spent the night. When I woke up at five to feed Sammy and Frank, Cass was still fast asleep in my bed. Her blond hair spilled over the pillow, haloing her face in the faint light from the pre-sunrise sky peeking in through my window. I half expected her to be gone when Frank and I got back from our walk, but to my relief she was still there, resting soundly with the covers pulled up to her chin. Once the pets were taken care of, I crawled back into bed with her. Sleep found me immediately.

A few hours later, I awoke on Cass's side of the bed. Warmth cradled between us. We were sharing her pillow and my arm was draped over her, while my hand was dangerously close to her breast.

Fuck it .

I shifted to palm her bare breast, massaging it gently to coax her nipple into a peak. I could feel it firm up against my fingertips. I scooted up until I was right behind her, my cock pressed against her ass. Her breathing changed and she began to stir. She brought her hand up and rested it on top of mine, letting me massage her breast for a few more seconds.

Dreamily, Cass rolled over to face me on the pillow. She stared at me for a few seconds before she reached over and pushed my hair off my face.

"Morning." I left it at that, even though I really wanted to thank her profusely for the best night of my life.

"Morning."

"I don't know if we discussed this," I said, "but I don't intend on paying you for the hours when you were asleep."

"You're such a piece of sh—"

Before she could finish that sentence, I kissed her.

Cass broke away from the kiss and she rolled over to the nightstand. When she returned to me, she was holding the check I wrote to her last night. She dangled it over my face, letting it tickle my nose. Then she leaned back on the pillow and she ripped the check in half, cleanly down the middle. She dropped the two pieces onto my bare chest.

"So, you're working pro-bono now?" I quipped. "God, there's a pun in there somewhere, but I just can't quite get there."

Ignoring me, Cass leaned over and kissed me. The kiss felt weighty, like it was laced up with more than I could comprehend, but I wasn't complaining. "I loved last night."

"Me too." I shifted, pushing myself up so I was seated with my back against the headboard. I pulled Cass over, coaxing her to snuggle against my side. I was convinced our bodies were engineered for this—to hold each other. "You really have no inhibitions."

"What do you mean?"

I rubbed her gorgeous hair, twirling a lock around my finger. "You're game for everything. It's so fucking fun."

She smiled as she reached over and rested her hand on my abdomen. Her fingertips danced there. "I'm glad you think so. You deserve to have a little fun."

Her response was exactly what I wanted to hear, but it wasn't enough. Fun was fun. Whatever. And sure, I wanted to have fun. But more than that, I wanted her. I wanted to wake up next to her like this every day and to know we would do it again that night.

"Cass."

"Marcus."

"Be honest with me." I delivered the words firmly, hoping to get a real response from her—not another cagey, this-is-as-much-as-you'll-ever-get-so-back-the-fuck-off , typical Cass response. "You really don't see yourself being in a relationship with me? Sex is the only thing that you want?"

She looked to the side and tightened her brow. Her eyes remained fixed there, away from my gaze. She took a few seconds before she looked at my face again. "This question is a trap."

"It's just a question."

"Do you want to be with me?" she responded. Her tone was clearly challenging me, daring me to lay all my cards on the table. "Like, actually with me?"

I paused. Now it was my turn to wade in the silence.

"It's not so easy, is it?" Cass went on. "You don't have to answer that."

"I should be able to answer it, but it's complicated. I think about you constantly. I like the way you have no qualms about putting me in my place. I love being myself with you. And for the sake of full candor, I've never had a better fuck in my life. But I can tell you don't feel the same way about me, and I would be lying if I said it wasn't hard for me."

"I don't know why," she said. She tugged the covers up to wrap them over her chest. "If you tried, you could have any woman you want."

"But I want you."

"I'm just…" Cass rolled to the side. She adjusted on her back and fixed her attention on the ceiling. "I'm complicated. Messy."

"Thing is, that's my specialty."

My response was enough to draw out a glimmer of a smile from her, but it wasn't enough to persuade her. "I know. But I was never allowed to be messy before. I don't think I'm ready to give that up."

"Then don't."

"I'm not going to risk hurting you though. I wouldn't forgive myself. I like you, Marcus." She turned towards me again and she ran her hand along my cheek. "I like how you're honestly the sweetest guy I've ever met, but you say the dirtiest things."

"It's always the quiet ones," I deadpanned. "And thank you. I spend a lot of time thinking up things to say to you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said, even though her apology meant a lot to me. "I knew what I was getting myself into."

That was true. I did know what I was getting into when I approached her at Shelf Atlas. I knew she looked like sex, and that surely wasn't a coincidence. Cass just had that thing—that ineffable, indescribable thing. There was an allure about her that made her desirable and dangerous all at once. She was the kind of woman people would stare at and conclude, She's going to destroy him one day .

That was fine with me though. It was a risk I was willing to take. Composed and controlled and orderly—that was me, sure. But that didn't mean I was afraid to take risks. My whole career had been built on risks—calculated, strategic risks that had ultimately netted me enough money to make my life more than comfortable for the rest of my days. Of course I would risk hurt and heartache if that's what it took.

She was worth it to me.

Once again, she reached over and rested her hand on my bare abdomen. "So, what should we do? Do we just stop where we are, or…"

Immediately, my body and brain wanted to scream NO . I looked down at her. "Tell me your perfect scenario, and I'll tell you mine. But you have to go first, Cass."

"Okay," she mused. "We keep having sex, but you can sleep with whoever you want and I can sleep with whoever I want."

"Like friends with benefits."

She nodded.

That was a minor blow to my ego, but I was fine with the outcome. I could still be with her this way. And this option opened the door for her to eventually realize we were supposed to be together.

And for the record, I firmly believed it—we were supposed to be together.

So I nodded as well and said, "I can handle that."

"Really?" she pushed, the surprise evident in her tone. "You're not even going to share your perfect scenario with me?"

"You don't actually want to know." And I was certain. There was no way she wanted to hear me tell her I wanted to be her boyfriend and fuck her senseless every single night, whispering revoltingly filthy things to her while I made her come on my cock. And there was no way she wanted to hear about the breakfasts I would cook her in the morning, and how we would walk Frank together while we drank coffee from our matching Yeti mugs. And there was definitely no way she would want to hear me say I would be perfectly content to fuck her—and only her—until we died in sixty years.

"This is such a bad idea," she reasoned. "You obviously want more than I can give you—"

"Let me worry about that." Then I took a page out of the Cass Pierson misdirection playbook and said, "Plus, I don't think I'm the one we have to worry about. Your reaction to Erin was…"

"Please don't bring up my jealous rage. That was so embarrassing."

"I'm just saying."

Cass held up her hands, composing herself before she said, "Look, I don't take offense to you sleeping with other women. But I do take offense to the idea of you pitting me and another woman against each other. It's bullshit. Women don't need that. So, if you go out and try to pick up a woman and you strike out, don't call me to make her jealous. I won't take that from you."

"Cass, I know I picked you up in a bar, but I promise you—I never do that."

"It's just an example."

"Got it," I said.

She nodded, content to leave it at that. "So we have a deal. We keep fucking—each other, and whoever else we want to. Right?"

"Right." For now . I kissed her head. "Well, listen: I could go make coffee for us, or we could continue on the miseducation of Marcus Fitz. Now that we've gotten a few firsts out of the way, I'm thinking we could try a few more."

"Such as?"

"I've never sixty-nined before."

I had barely finished my sentence before Cass practically leapt on top of me and gave me the best Sunday morning I'd ever had.