2. Cassidy

Thick T-shirt fabric balled in my fist, I tug him along behind me until we're close enough to Derek that he's sure to see us, but far enough away to make it seem unintentional. Standing closer to him than ever before, I slide my hands across the coarse stubble on Red's face and kiss him. A soft brush of our lips. It's not a great kiss by any means. Probably not even a convincing one—it feels icky and wrong, like when a family member accidentally kisses you on the lips instead of the cheek. When we pull apart, I swear I hear Derek's laugh.

So kissing isn't enough, then.

"Let's go." I grab Red's hand, and he follows without hesitation—unexpectedly smart enough to adhere to my rule about not saying anything stupid. Fingers interlaced with mine, he obediently walks out of the beer garden, past the closed vendor booths, and through the rows of parked vehicles.

"I get that I'm not supposed to say anything stupid, but I'm starting to worry you're about to murder me."

"I know you brought condoms. Where's your truck?"

He stops in his tracks and stares at me. "What the fuck is happening?"

Truthfully, I'm not sure what's happening either. I'm just riding the high, doing whatever my jacked-up emotions and the liquor are telling me to do. "Um… Well, if you agree to it, I was going to see if you'd fuck me on the hood of my ex's car. Payback, you know?"

Red throws his head back with a gut-busting laugh. "Holy. Shit. I don't know, Cass. That's wild."

"I asked you because you're the most unhinged man I know. If you won't, then point me in the direction of someone who will." My cheeks flame, burning my entire body from the inside out. I hadn't considered whether he might turn me down. Shit. I press a finger to my eye to hold back the embarrassed tears.

"I don't think you want to do this."

"You don't know what the fuck I want. You're here because I didn't want somebody who would try and talk me out of it. I just…" I'm starting to lose momentum now. "I forced myself to get dressed and put makeup on to come here, stupidly thinking I'd have a fun night. Then he shows up with the girl he's been cheating with for months, Shelby ditches me, and I'm stuck spending the night with you. I ran into Derek on my way out earlier, and he acted like I'm an ugly, pitiful loser. I hate it. I want to do something to get back at him—I don't even care if he ever finds out about it. Just, for once, I want to feel like I have a little bit of fucking power. I'm so tired of being the mature, polite, responsible one."

"He was wrong. You're beautiful."

"Thanks for the fake flattery. You're right, asking you to do this was unhinged and so not me. I don't do this kind of thing. I'm gonna head home."

He holds my shoulders, preventing me from spinning around to leave. "I'm not trying to kiss your ass. You do look beautiful. Not pitiful at all… even with your red face and crazy eyes. If you're serious about this…" He studies me in the faint glow of distant headlights, and the way his eyes bore into mine makes something in my heart trip up. Like he can see right through me. My head barely moves with a subconscious nod. "Fuck—okay, I'll do it. But we're making sure we leave behind enough evidence that he knows."

All I can do is nod again like a bobble head.

"Oh, and Cass? If your dad finds out about this somehow, you're taking the blame because I refuse to be banned from the only bar in town."

"Oh my God. I can assure you he's the last person who would ever know about this. Glad to see your priorities are straight though, Red."

"You're one to talk." He smirks as his hands finally leave my shoulders.

"If we're doing this, I need you to fuck me like you hate me. Don't tell me I'm beautiful again or pretend like this is more than a quick revenge fuck."

"You think I was planning on making love on the hood of your ex's car?" He snorts. "Be right back."

In the time it takes for him to walk to his truck and back, my thoughts oscillate until I'm feeling dizzy. A little nauseous, even. This is probably a stupid idea… but wouldn't it be nice to know I kind of got him back? Red has more red flags than most guys I know… but he's also the one guy here who might be willing to do this. Simultaneously trying to talk myself into and out of this reckless plan, I locate Derek's obnoxious red car and lean against it with an anxious exhale.

This is just two people about to have purely transactional sex—he gets to come, and I get to feel like I stuck it to my ex. I exclusively see him at rodeos and the bar, where he's too busy with his friends and other women to give a shit about me. So there are minimal opportunities for things to get awkward, right?

"So, where are we doing this?" His voice forces me out of my spiraling thoughts.

"Oh, um… right here." I point to the hood I'm resting on. My heart races as he steps forward, rough hands falling to my bare knees.

"You sure you want—"

"Yes. Like you hate me, remember?" I allow my thighs to drift apart, making room for him to get even closer. Goosebumps prickle up in the wake of his fingers, leaving me shuddering as his calloused hands stroke my legs.

Our eyes are locked, the whites of his gleaming in the moonlight. "Breathe, Cass."

I inhale deeply and, when he nods, let out a long exhale. The way he's staring into my soul sends a trickle of warmth down my spine, settling beneath my pelvic bone with a haunting ache. Feeling his hand slip further up my leg, under the relaxed denim of my vintage Levi's skirt, I look down to make sure I'm not imagining it. Obviously, this was all my idea, but I didn't expect my body to react the way it is. The way Red, of all people, is making my underwear wet with a light stroke of my inner thigh should be criminal.

"Cute bracelet." I smile at him, trying to ease the sexual tension between us by shifting focus to the thin barbed wire wrapped around his wrist.

Of course he has barbed wire on his wrist.

"You like it? Got you a necklace to match." His hand leaves my leg and, for a split second, I'm longing for him to put it back. He shifts so the glow of a distant pole light catches, and I can see what he's trying to show me. Below the dense forest of black ink trees sprawling up his forearm, there's a tattoo along the back of his hand, running from thumb to index finger.

Barbed wire.

Before I can question what he means, his hand slips around my neck like a collar.

A barbed wire necklace.

"Fits perfectly, Cass. Looks sexy as hell, too."

My breath catches in my throat, stuck right at the spot where his fingers are pressed into my flesh. An involuntary whimper escapes my parted lips and, although it's dark, there's no missing the way his nostrils flare.

Fighting to maintain my composure, I snarl, "What did I tell you about not saying dumb shit? Please, let's just get this over with."

"Jesus, you really know how to turn a man on, don't you?" With a dramatic eye roll, he lets his hand fall back to my thigh, sending a course of heat up to my groin. "If you don't want to do this, say so and I'll stop."

"No, I do. Keep going."

Hesitant eyes narrow in on mine, not buying a word I'm saying. To prove I'm not having doubts, I lace my arms around his neck and smash my lips against his. They're surprisingly soft and warm, melding with mine. Were they this soft when I kissed them earlier? The hair at the nape of his neck's the perfect length to twirl around my fingers. Holding a steady hand on either side of my face, Red kisses back with an ardent groan. It's sloppy and frantic and hungry and—to my astonishment—fucking good. Nothing like the tense, uncomfortable kiss we shared earlier. His hands run through my hair, and a bite of my bottom lip forces another whimper from somewhere deep in my chest.

When his hand reaches under my skirt, I roll my hips into him. My core tightens, begging for attention while the seconds drag even slower than his hand. I hate that I want him to touch me but, fucking hell, I do.

His finger traces the cut of my underwear, then nudges it aside so the tight fabric catches my sensitive clit. Electrical currents shoot out in every direction, and I can't help the moan that Red stifles with his mouth. Repeating with the other edge, he lets my underwear gather between my labia. Even the slightest motion is enough to drag the thin cotton over my clit. Without thinking about what I'm doing, my hips rock gently on the car's hood, shifting the fabric. Inching me toward bliss.

Red breaks our kiss, staggering backward a step. He hasn't even properly touched me yet, but he's watching. Intently.

"Fuck, Cass. Fuck." His gravelly voice sounds desperate and, for some ungodly reason, that makes me even more wet. I want him to want me. I want him to keep studying me with pure lust. So I spread my legs further, pulling the thong fully to the side, and plunge two fingers deep inside myself.

So much for a quick revenge fuck. Now I'm masturbating on the hood of my ex's car while Red, the insufferable cowboy, watches with a carnal look in his eye. Sobering up just enough to realize what I'm doing, I blush and rip away my hand.

"I didn't tell you to stop. Keep going." He grips his cock through his jeans, rubbing the bulge slowly and never taking his gaze off my body. "I want to watch Wells Canyon's sweetheart make herself come right out in the open. Touch yourself, Cassidy. Play with your pretty little cunt for me."

I swallow hard. I should say no. Tell him to go screw himself. Of all people, he shouldn't affect me like this. He shouldn't have me wanting to do anything he asks.

With soaked fingers, I find my clit, stroking with a feather-light touch and frenzied intensity. I arch my back, letting my blonde hair cascade down to the shiny, red metal, and prop a cowboy boot up on the hood to keep from sliding, praying it leaves a nasty scratch. Red moves to hold my legs steady and wide open, and I watch him watching me.

"That's it—fuck your hand right here in public. You fooled me, Cass. I thought you were just a cock tease but you're a total fucking slut, aren't you?"

"No." The word comes out hoarse, less than a whisper. I'm not. Not usually. I don't know what the hell is happening to me right now. "Just tonight."

"Just for me."

"No." Yes. But I'm not about to unpack why right now. "Fuck you."

His chest heaves, and his face is flushed. Staring me down, he gnaws at his cheek, letting out a small groan now and then. His hand tightens on my shin like it's taking everything in him to refrain from touching me anywhere else. With Derek, I would be self-conscious but, extra five pounds or not, Red's making me feel like the sexiest goddamn woman alive.

"Oh my God," I moan as warm liquid rushes through me, and my fingers slow to a lazy circle, riding out the storm. Red's wide pupils reflect the moonlight and, without hesitation, he reaches out to feel the mess I made. Lightly running a finger across my entrance and up to my swollen clit, sending an exhilarating shiver up the length of my spine.

"Holy fuck. Look at you—that's the hottest thing I've ever seen." He slips a cool finger inside, stealing my breath. Instead of thrusting, like so many guys seem to do, he carefully draws the pad of his middle finger in a beckoning motion. Another finger slips in, and his eyes darken at my whimper.

"Making those sounds with only my fingers—you'll be screaming when I really fill you."

"God, you're such a douchebag."

"And you're going to look so fucking good stretched around my cock." He withdraws his fingers, leaving a void I'm desperate to feel him fill. Fingers, tongue, cock… I'll take anything. Not that I can ever confess that truth.

"Does that mean you're finally going to fuck me now?" I flop back onto the hood. The cold metal's shocking at first, then pleasant as I fight to catch my breath, waiting for him to put on the condom.

When I caught Derek cheating, my best friend since toddlerhood, Blair, told me there's no such thing as a truly original experience. I guess knowing millions of people have caught their boyfriend cheating was supposed to make me feel better. Staring up at the starry, endless sky, I wonder how many other people have had revenge sex on the hood of their ex's car with a guy they don't particularly like. Certainly feels original.

"Jesus Christ," I gasp—in spite of myself—when I glance down and see his cock. For a perfectly average-sized man, he's packing anything but an average-sized dick. Truly, I had been hoping it would be tiny or misshapen or something, so I could add to the list of reasons why he's firmly on my "do not touch" list. Now I'm starting to wonder if him being a hot-headed prick will be enough to keep me from wanting this one-night stand to happen again. "I thought guys who act like total douchebags usually have tiny dicks."

"So you thought I was a douchebag with a small dick, and that's why you chose me to help make your ex jealous? Something isn't adding up here."

"Shut the fuck up, Red." I slide further down the hood and grip his thick cock. And I do mean thick. Hopefully, he's smart enough to take this as an invitation to shut up and make better use of the limited time we have.

"You need to work on your dirty talk, sweetheart."

"I thought we agreed not to use that word."

"I'll call you whatever I want when you're the one begging for my cock."

"I'm not—" I start to protest, and he shakes his head in disbelief, then glances down to where I'm subconsciously tugging his dick in my direction. I drop it like a hot potato, and heat rushes to take up residence in my cheeks.

I can't believe I'm begging Red to fuck me…

"I would never beg for your dick. I was just trying to determine if it'll fit."

Should not have said that.

He smirks. "Oh, it might be a tight fit, but I'm sure you can take it."

Positioning himself between my legs, he grabs hold of my thigh with one hand and fists his cock with the other. By the time he's notching the head at my entrance, I'm struggling to breathe. Waiting anxiously. Aching for him to fill me. Praying to feel him stretch me with his massive cock and slam balls deep.

He aggressively drags his shaft across my pussy, spreading my wetness down the length of him. The puddle between my legs is destroying any hope of hiding my attraction to him. My knees fall open wider, and he nudges the tip inside me—just enough that it causes intense pressure to collect between my hips.

Centimetre by goddamn centimetre, he pushes into me with a satiated look. "Breathe, Cass. I'm not even close to all the way in—you need to relax."

Not even close?

"What?" I gulp and focus on anything but the fact that Red's cock is so deep inside of me he might be touching my lungs. It rearranging my internal organs would explain my sudden inability to breathe, though.

"Relax and take a breath." He groans. "Almost there, sweetheart."

On my exhale, his blunt fingernails dig into the extra padding around my hips, and he plunges deep. My bare ass slides against the metal hood, bunching my skirt around my waist. In a punishing thrust, he bottoms out, balls slapping against my damp skin, and I wrap my legs around his waist to force him deeper. With each pump, the tip hits the spot that has me writhing. I want all of him—every fucking inch. And I kind of hate how badly I want him, but then I prop myself on my elbows and watch as his cock drives into me, and I don't hate it at all. He's stretching and filling every bit of me, over and over. With each powerful thrust, the edge of my thong drags along his shaft and catches on my clit in a burst of stunning fireworks. His movement's slow and steady. And absolutely incredible.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight. How the hell are you this tight, Cass?" He groans, his head tipping back so the muscles working in his throat are highlighted. His Adam's apple bobs in the dim light as he thrusts forward again. "God—I don't think I'm going to be able to make this last."

He leaves me panting and empty when he pulls out, bending down to run his flat tongue up my centre, lapping me up. My breath hitches, and I knock the cowboy hat from his head to grip a handful of hair. My fingers weave around the soft strands, holding the fuck on like I'm about to ride a bull—even though I'm the one bucking when he hits my clit with the perfect amount of pressure and light suction. His hand's firmly planted on my stomach, restricting my movement. No amount of squirming or fighting will get me out from under the intense pleasure. When I wiggle, my spine's only pressed harder into the rigid metal hood.

"Red, you don't have to—" My words are cut off by his free hand smacking down on my mouth. I try to talk, despite the palm suffocating me, but it's no use.

I don't do this. I don't come when guys go down on me. It's too wet. Too messy. Too much.

But he's leaving me no choice. Every muscle stiffens in concert, and I feel all of my blood rush to my cheeks, then drain entirely as an orgasm tears through me. His large, warm hand quiets my moan, and his tongue draws out my pleasure until I'm quivering under him.

"Now I won't feel so bad when I come too quickly. At least I can say I got you off," he says, licking his bottom lip. My arousal glistens in his stubble, and his eyes tear me apart. I'm not entirely naked, but his gaze is enough to make me feel as though I am.

He seems proud. I'm horrified. It's one thing to have sex with Red Thompson. It's another to know I came in and around his mouth. And the sated look in his hooded eyes is nearly making me feel good about doing it—like there was pleasure in it for him, too.

Fuck, there's something wrong with me for liking this. I wasn't supposed to enjoy having sex with him. This was supposed to be a means to an end; I assumed I'd be going home to make up for the subpar experience with my vibrator. Then I'd never think of this moment again.

Thank God he leaves little time for my brain to spiral itself off the deep end. Red sinks his cock back into me with a strangled moan, and his thumb draws circles on my clit until I'm right there again. This time he's right there with me.

"You like fucking me, don't you? You like feeling me deep in your tight cunt."

"Not… at… all." I struggle to get the words out between whimpers.

"Liar. Gonna come again for me, Cass?"

"You wish," I say through gritted teeth.

"Mmm, I think you are. I think you're gonna drench my cock like you did my face."

"Make me." I stare into his eyes, feeling a rush as he presses harder against my clit. Please, make me.

My nails drag across the hood, scratching the paint, as I desperately search for something to hold on to. Anything to keep me from floating above my body. My orgasm surges around his cock at the same time he drops his head with a final grunt. His face is flush and his body shudders in one smooth wave.

"Fuck," we whisper in unison, seemingly both unsure whether we mean fuck, that was amazing or fuck, what did we just do?