16. Cassidy

Istare from the front door as Chase wrestles something plush, grey, and adult-human-sized from the front seat of his truck. "What the fuck is that?"

"Shouldn't have taken it outta the fucking vacuum sealed package before coming here," he shouts. He tosses the giant object over his shoulder in a firefighter carry position and strolls up to the house. "It's for you."

He throws it down on the couch, and that's when I realize. It's a massive U-shaped pregnancy pillow.

"Are you saying you're already sick of being my pillow?" I wrap my arms around his waist. He holds the back of my head, fingers woven in my hair, and pulls me tighter into the embrace.

"Never. But it's supposedly a ‘must-have', according to Kate."

"I'll have to send her a thank you text." I step back and watch as his eyes flick to my lips before slowly meandering back up to meet my gaze. "You know you don't need to buy me presents, though."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugs. "You need to be comfortable. And I know you like presents."

"You know me too well."

Since the anatomy scan, he's been here almost every night. We eat dinner and watch TV. On nights I work late, he's waiting with snacks when I get home. When one person yawns, that's the cue. The sign to head into my room, strip, and fuck, promising each other it'll be the last time. We fall asleep and, in the morning, he leaves for work. Rinse. Repeat.

I know we're playing with fire. But, fuck, we burn so good.

There's a long pause, where I'm staring at him staring at me. I'm pretty certain he wants to kiss me. I'm also pretty certain I want to kiss him. But kissing is too intimate for whatever we are. We don't talk about what happens in my bed under the dark cloak of night. That's different. That's fucking.

"You could always come to the ranch and thank Kate in person," he says.

I can't tell if dinner is crossing a line in our casual arrangement. I suppose it's fine since it's not exactly the same as meeting his family—I already know them. I'm already friends with Denny, and I'm friendly enough with Kate and Cecily.

"Yeah… yeah, we could do that." It would be nice to talk with Kate some more, considering everything she told me at the winter fair went in one ear and out the other. Blair's obsessed with texting me pregnancy information, including a weekly announcement of how big the baby is, but she's never experienced it firsthand. "I'd love to hang out with Kate so she can give me tips. By the way, did you know she's bigger than a Furby now?"

That was Blair's disturbing twenty-three week comparison I've been forgetting to tell Chase about.

His nose wrinkles, face twisting with mock disgust. "The baby or Kate?"

I rap my fingers across his firm bicep. "Stop. You know who I meant."

"Those things were creepy. Don't ever use the word Furby when describing our perfect daughter again." While his tone is serious and scolding, there's tension tugging the corner of his lip.

"Well, the poor girl has you for a father so…" I shrug, dodging his fingers as he reaches to pinch my side. "I'll love her even if she's born looking like you, though."

"Bullshit. I'm a pretty boy, and you know it."

Okay, fine. I won't actually be the slightest bit mad if our baby looks like him. Don't get me wrong, I'll be irritated about doing all this work to create his carbon copy. But a sweet baby girl with blue eyes and bright-red hair? That's the most adorable thing I can imagine.

"The prettiest boy."

I grab the pregnancy pillow and lug it down the hallway to my room. Collapsing onto the bed, my body turns into jelly thanks to the luxurious, supportive, greatest love of my life. Even with my stomach still relatively small, it's a game changer to take the weight off my back for a moment. There's a chance I may never move. "Oh, I think I'm in love with Kate. This is so comfy. You're excused now—I don't need you anymore."

"I refuse to be replaced by a dildo and a pillow."

"Don't forget take-out." I roll my lips, narrowing my eyes at him. "Yeah, I think I could probably replace you with those three things."

In a swift movement, Chase is hovering over me on the bed. Without hesitation, his hands slip under my shirt to tease my nipples, sending a hot jolt of pleasure radiating through my breasts. He's shimmying my shirt over my head, and I don't bother stopping him. It's hard to feel self-conscious when he constantly looks at me like he's starved for my body.

Sucking my nipple between his teeth, his tongue flits across the hardening bud.

"Can your vibrator or pillow do that?"

"I can probably get my boob in my own mouth now—these things are getting massive. What else you got? Hurry, my interest in you sticking around is expiring." I tap an imaginary watch on my wrist.

His eyes darken, fingertips tracing the curves of my breasts. "You're a fucking brat."

He yanks my yoga pants off, suffocating himself between my legs. Nudging my underwear to the side, he tests how sensitive I am by blowing cool air on my clit.

Fuck him—that's how sensitive it is.

I'm inclined to smack him, instead groaning and flexing my legs in response. Then his tongue makes sharp contact, and I cry out.

"Still want to trade me for the toy?"

I gulp, trying to hide how turned on I am. "I mean… maybe. It doesn't talk as much."

"Get it then. Let's see which one you like better." His head motions toward the nightstand. When I don't immediately move, he does, pulling open the drawer and reaching for the rabbit and a bottle of lube. "Jesus, how many toys do you have in here?"

My face grows instantly warm. "Oh, um… well… they all do different things."

With a smirk, he shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't wait to see you use all of them. Fuck, all this time I had no idea how dirty of a girl you really are."

"What would you have done if you'd known?" I raise an eyebrow. There's not a chance in hell I would've told him, or anybody, about my toy collection. I don't have a drawer full because I'm a sex fiend or anything—it's simply easy to amass a stockpile when you're single and unwilling to date for most of your twenties.

"I would've convinced you to let me fuck you years ago. Now, show me what you like. How do you want to be fucked, Cass?"

I gulp, letting my knees fall apart so I'm spread wide before him, and run my fingers up my pussy. Slick. Soaked. Aside from one short swipe of his tongue, he hasn't even touched me. I grab the lube from him and toss it down on the bedspread. "Um… I don't think we'll need that."

"Fucking hell. You're so sexy, spread out and ready like this." He holds out the vibrator, and I reluctantly take it. I want to just tell him to forget this. I'd rather feel his warm body pressing into me than the cold vibrator rubbing against my skin, collecting my wetness.

But my stubborn side wins; I can't let him know how weak he makes me. How badly I want him every second of every day. Goosebumps sprinkle my skin, and I press the tip to my entrance, waiting for a sign of his approval. The long, soft silicone slides in with ease. Despite the instinct to turn my face into the pillow with embarrassment, I remain transfixed, staring at him. At the way he's watching me, his chest barely moving with short, shallow breaths. When I turn it on with a whimper, he licks his lips and groans. Glowing with lust, a muscle in his jaw twitching repeatedly. As usual, it doesn't take long before I'm squirming on the bed. Heat coiling at the base of my spine. All the blood in my body rushing to that spot as I feel the familiar push-pull of an orgasm.

He doesn't let me come, though. Chase grabs the rabbit's base and pulls it out, chucking it across the bed—filling the room with a light buzzing. "You're not coming yet. Not until you've felt my cock and decided if you still think you can replace me with your toy."

"How do you want me? Use me. Tell me what to do." If anybody ever asked, I'd lie until I'm blue in the face, but I crave his rough demands. His possessive control awakens something in me—a sexual rush I've never experienced before. His face lights up with intensity, clearly enjoying being the one to boss me around.

"Flip over," he commands. "Knees and elbows. Ass up."

Without hesitation, I'm flipped around and eagerly waiting. My hips wiggle against my will, needing friction, begging him to fill the ache of emptiness. He tosses his pants aside, the belt buckle hitting the metal footboard with a loud ping. Then his cock is slipping between my legs, teasing me, and my breath stops with desperate anticipation. No matter how many times I feel it, the initial stretching when his thick cock fills me is a sin I'll never get enough of.

"Look at you, so needy for the real thing. This cunt always prefers me, doesn't it?" With the tip notched at my entrance, he presses a palm between my shoulder blades, shoving my breasts into the mattress and smashing my cheek into the pillow. He drives into me in one swift motion, filling me to the hilt with a strangled, cursing groan. The grip he has on my hips makes me clench my jaw tight enough to trap my gasp. There are deep purple bruises in my future, for sure. Sore patches of flesh for him to tenderly, apologetically kiss better later.

The first two thrusts are slow, then he picks up the pace. Pumping into me while maintaining a rough grip on my hip with one hand and firm pressure on my spine with the other. His cock's managing to hit every square inch inside me, leaving no part of my body unaffected as sparks fly up my spine.

"This what you want? You want my cock, or the fake one?"

"Mmm… It's up for debate," I taunt, looking over my shoulder at him while pretending to weigh my options.

He slaps my ass. Hard. When I bite my lip with a moan, eyes shuttering with pleasure, he does it again. "I'm going to have to fuck the brattiness right out of you, aren't I?"

"Guess so." I shoot him a cheeky smile.

His hand snakes around from my back to grab my breast as he piles into me. Over and over. With a punishing pace. Then his fingers trail upward until he's grabbing my throat, pulling my heavy upper body off the mattress to greet his. I reach out for the headboard to steady myself as his fingers tighten around my neck. I'm arched into him, reveling in his hot breath on my ear.

"Fuck, Cass. You're a fucking dream with my hand around your beautiful neck and my cock buried in your tight pussy."

His dirty talk sends a rush up my spine every time. My nails bite into his thigh, eliciting a raspy exhale against my ear. Chase pulls out in an agonizingly slow movement, and I push my ass toward him, subconsciously begging for the pleasure he's withholding.

"Ready to admit you like my cock better than the fake one?"

His rock-hard cock drags across my bare ass. And stubbornness be damned, I need him to fuck me.

"Yes. I want—need—your cock," I admit with a yearning rasp.

"That's my good little slut—you'll do anything I tell you, won't you?"

"Mmm, maybe," I lie through my teeth. I would. I'd do anything. I'm already doing things I would've never considered with anybody else and loving every second of it. I want to be his slut. I want to be his dream.

"Brat," he murmurs into my hair as he shoves back inside me.

Fuck. Why does that word make me want him even more?

My bottom lip skates between my front teeth. "You love it."

He responds by tightening his grip. Not choking me—I can breathe relatively well, considering the force of every thrust is radiating up to my lungs. But he's keeping enough pressure on either side of my throat to make it obvious he's in charge here. Knowing I'm at his mercy sends an electrifying tingle through my skin, settling into my core.

"I really do love the necklace," I say between harsh thrusts, which knock the wind out of me every time. I stroke the tattooed back of his hand, the skin I know so intimately after nights spent sleeping with our fingers interlaced on my stomach. He squeezes either side of my neck, tight enough to make my lip quiver.

"It's all yours. Only yours." His rough fingers press into my pulse point, and I gasp. "Now get your hand off mine and touch yourself. Play with your needy cunt for me."

"I have a better idea." One by one, I peel his fingers from my skin and lean over to the drawer, pulling out a bullet-sized vibrator and adding to the hum of buzzing electricity in the air. "You want me to come hard? Use this while you fuck me."

"Who said anything about you coming yet? You think you deserve to come on my cock after being such a pain in the ass?" His hand jumps to my throat again, pulling my back into his chest. His ragged breath is hot in my ear, and I whimper a desperate yes around the pressure of his fingers. "Yeah? Well, you're lucky I'm a nice guy."

"So lucky." I eagerly agree, rolling my hips to feel him deeper.

"Ask nicely. Maybe I'll let you come." His grip tightens as he talks. Begging for it isn't an option when I can barely form words past his palm on the column of my neck, but I moan and press my hips deeper into his, letting my body speak my greatest desires.

"Plea—" I gasp as he thrusts into me.

"What was that?" He pulls almost all the way out, then slams back in so my high-pitched, sharp inhale fills the room. Leaning in close to nip my shoulder.

When his grip lets up for half a second, I cry out. "Please. Please. Let me come."

"Such a needy little slut."

I rock back so his cock is buried deep enough there's a tinge of momentary pain before the overwhelming pleasure. "Chase, I need it. Don't stop."

"Use your toy, baby. I want to feel you come harder than you ever have before."

Swept up in primal momentum, he's fucking me rough and deep and fast. The air's thick with our arousal and sweat. My muscles beg to turn to jelly, struggling to keep me upright, with one hand on the headboard and the other moving the small vibe across my clit.

"That's it. Squirt all over my cock. Make a fucking mess of me."

I can't hear. Can't see. Can't feel. Everything goes black, and I fall apart with a drawn-out, hoarse moan. My body convulses in his arms as I truly come harder than I have in my fucking life. With his cock pounding into my pussy, his hand clutching my neck, and his lips on the sliver of skin behind my ear. When it should be done, it's not. The orgasm keeps coming, my cum providing even more lubrication for both his cock and my vibrator. It doesn't stop until I'm on the verge of tears, fully drained, and shaking uncontrollably.

"Good. Fucking. Girl."

Then I drop my hand, thrusting the vibrator between his legs to the hot skin behind his balls. The sensation sends him forward with a shudder that threatens to completely undo the powerful persona he has in bed. He's sloppy and frantic and so clearly about to fall apart.

"Holy fucking shit." He moans, thrusting hard and fast, until he's filling me with warm, thick liquid. His arms shaking, breath faltering. Both panting, we collapse onto the bed in a mess of weary limbs.

Thatwas the last time. It has to be. This is getting too good. I'm becoming addicted. And not only to the pleasure. While the orgasms are amazing, I could have orgasms solo. It's everything about him… and us.

He pads across to the ensuite bathroom and returns a few seconds later with a warm washcloth, wiping my skin delicately. Then he places a halo of kisses around my baby bump before settling in next to me, pulling my leg over his lap.

"Have I told you how happy I am that I knocked you up?"

"Yeah, we'll see if you're still saying that when the sex high wears off."

"Serious, Cass. I am. Even if you never let me touch you again—which, fuck, I hope that's not the case. I'm happy this happened."

"You wouldn't change things if you could?" I lift my head to look at him, searching for any hint of a lie. Waiting for him to say what he thinks I want to hear. His irises are the picture of a lake on a perfect summer day, when the sun is out and you're floating with a beer in your hand. Not a cloud in the sky, nothing but shimmery vibrant blue reflecting the sun. There's a single freckle just below his eyebrow, and I can't help myself from reaching up to lightly brush my thumb across it.

"Not at all. With the childhood I had, I didn't think I'd ever want kids of my own. But I wouldn't change a second of this. In fact, if I could go back to the rodeo night, I'd skip the condom entirely, to be really sure that we still end up here. Little Spud is the best thing to happen to me. You are the best thing to happen to me."

My stomach leaps into my throat.

"You can't say that to a pregnant woman." I sniffle, wiping the tears suddenly brimming my lashline. "You're going to make me fall in love with you if you say nice things like that."

"Oh? Well, good thing I said it then." The muscles in his arm tighten around me. I can't breathe for a second, and it has to be because of his tight grip. Not because I'm briefly picturing a world where I love him. Definitely not that.

I bite back the weird feeling. "Shut up. Trust me, you don't want me falling in love with you. You think I'm needy and annoying now? It would be nothing but dinner requests, cold feet tucked between your warm legs, and crappy reality TV shows."

"That's already my present hell, Cass." His hand rubs slowly over my bare stomach. "Would you change anything?"

"This isn't exactly where I thought I'd be at thirty-one, y'know? But, no, I don't think I would."

I wouldn't. Not the accidental pregnancy. Surprisingly, not the baby daddy.

Before I say anything to cross the "friends-with-benefits-slash-friends-with-a-baby" line I insist on having in place, I change the subject. "Before I forget, I didn't know we were giving each other Christmas gifts today, so it's not wrapped, but I have something for you."

"The pillow isn't a Christmas present. You said not to buy you one because we aren't together." He gives me an easy smile. "And yet… you have a Christmas present for me?"

"Okay, I know. But this feels like a necessity." I drag myself from the bed and walk over to the dresser, mindful of his eyes on my naked body. But, even with the extra pounds and growing belly, I feel inexplicably comfortable. More confident with him than I ever was with Derek.

"Close your eyes." I pull the present from my drawer and hurry back to the warmth of bed, snuggling into his strong arms. "Okay… open. It's a bracelet. Um… I made it because you probably shouldn't hold a baby with barbed wire on your damn wrist. I'm not going to explain to the hospital why a newborn needs a tetanus shot."

He turns the leather band over in his hands, stopping to run his thumb along the tooling, which looks like barbed wire, running the length of the bracelet. "You made this?"

"I taught myself leather working after high school when everyone was off at college and I was trapped here. It's a fun hobby." I shrug, trying to brush off the expression he's giving me right now. The soft eyes, creases between his eyebrows, and a genuine smile. It's filling my chest like a helium balloon and, if I'm not careful, I might float away on that smile.

"Cass, this is super fucking cool. I can't believe you made… actually, I can believe it. Is there anything you aren't good at?"

"Did you repress memories of the lasagna I tried to make a couple of days ago? Cooking is not my strong suit."

"Hey, I ate it and I'm still alive. Could've been worse." He laughs, already replacing the metal bracelet with mine. "Good thing I'm here, or our baby would be surviving on Flamin' Hot Cheetos, root beer,and French fries. Seriously, though. This is amazing."

"Thanks." I fumble with fastening the clasp for him. "I should find photos of the heels I made for Blair when she graduated nursing school. Those were super cool."

"You could sell these. Do you sell them?"

"Nah. I've briefly considered it before, but I don't know…" I fiddle with a strand of hair, unable to make eye contact. "It's time consuming, and I probably should get some more practice first. It's just a little hobby."

"Fuck that. Don't sell yourself short. I'd pay for this. If you made belts, I know at least twenty ranch hands who would buy them from you. You said before that you didn't have a thing, but maybe this is it. With how smart you are, I bet you could make a great business out of this."

"Yeah, if I had the time, maybe. And I'm going to have even less time with a baby to take care of. Besides, I packed up all my supplies because my office will have to be a nursery." The way he's watching me anxiously fidget is only making me more flustered. I can't bear to meet his eyes. "Thank you, though. I'm glad you like it."

"I love it." He takes his time spinning it around his wrist. "And I was serious about being here every day. You're gonna be so fucking sick of me, I bet you'll be stoked to have a hobby that gives you a break."

"You are best in small doses…"

He leans in. "Mmm, that's not what you say when I'm inside you."

"Okay, see. Now you've officially overstayed your welcome." I shove him playfully in the side, and he wraps himself around me. His tattooed arm drapes across my stomach, and his leg encircles my ankles. He's got me pinned—not that I had any intention of moving, anyway.

"You're stuck with me, sweetheart." He nuzzles into my hair.

"Great. How did I get so lucky?"

I told myself I wouldn't do this. I wouldn't fall for him. But suddenly we're talking until midnight, and I'm laughing in his arms. Our bodies knit together like every limb, muscle, and ligament were created to be interwoven. I'm the happiest I've felt in years. And I'm so wonderfully, irrevocably screwed.