Page 28 of Catching Mr. Right

“A jerk?” I rub a finger against my bottom lip. It’s not the first time I’ve heard those words from her. Won’t be the last.

“Uh-huh.”

I should shrug it off, move her out of my way. Only my fingers bite into her shoulders. Forget holding her hands above her head, I want so much to flip her around and plant her palms flat to that sky colored wood that would make the bright pink covering her ass pop in comparison. That color that makes me imagine her naked and with my handprint across her ass cheek for pushing me too hard, while she pants and quivers for more. I want to take all the frustration and the damage and the need inside me and pour all those emotions into making her come.

But I can’t. What if I hurt her? “You should go now. Pester your dream guy instead of me. I’ve got work to do.”

“You want to go sulk.” She lifts her chin higher. Stares me down.

I can’t fucking ignore it. Can’t keep a tight rein on the need she stirs. Can’t stop picturing her climaxing up against that blue door. Her hair is silk, knotted around my fingers, as I shift closer.

“Cas?” Her voice is wispy electricity, snaking through my veins.

“You want to know what scares me?” I capture her elbow, guide her back against the door. I want to taste her skin, feel the way her pulse beats erratically against my lips while I slide my fingers into her panties.

“Yes.” She pants, her shoulders bumping against the wood.

She frightens me. She tests my limits every damn day we spend in each other’s company. She makes me want to do things to her that scare the life out of me.

Juliette’s laughter waltzes through my head.

“And then they said they wanted us to stay on another year. Can you believe that?” She steps as lightly as a cat from the end of the bed to the sofa in our tiny apartment. Dark hair piled on top of her head, she takes a swig from the bottle of Pastis in her hand before offering it to me.

“Of course.” I take the bottle, tip my head back and swallow some of the anise liquor that tastes so much like liquorice. Of course the company asked her and Soldier to stay, because the two of them are amazing. “I just thought we were going back to the States. We agreed on a year.”

“But you agreed last year.” She lights one of her marijuana cigarettes, inhales, and blows several smoke rings with precision. Then she extends her hand for the Pastis. “You said you could wait as long as I needed.”

Unfolding from my spot on the floor, I pick up a cigarette from the silver case on the table and go to open one of the long windows that looks down over the street. I did say that. And I meant it. But I’m tired of living like this, and I want a family. I want to start one with her. I tuck the smoke behind my ear, clasp my hands behind my head and exhale. “Are you ever going to want to go home?”

“Casper,” she says, climbing off the sofa, her footfalls quiet and graceful over a hodgepodge of flea market rugs as she comes to me. “I love you. I want to go home too. Just not yet.”

“When?” I face her. My heart skips a beat, and I don’t know if that’s because I love her so damn hard, or because I want so much more than she gives.

“Another year,” she pleads, her hand squeezing my forearm. “Please. It’s not so much, is it? I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I want you.” I sigh, already caving. I could never try to tame her spirit. “Fine. Another year.”

Juliette squeals, jumps up and down. “You don’t know how happy you make me. Let me do something for you.” She sinks to her knees, right there in front of the window, her hands on my belt, tugging…

One of Mandy’s hands is on my forearm over her shoulder, where I’ve trapped her against the door. Her other is on my belt, tugging. Her green eyes are locked on mine, darkened with lust. My insides churn with the snapshots of what happened. The way Juliette died makes me sick to my stomach even now, especially now, with how close I am to Mandy.

“Goddamn dick,” I mutter under my breath, pushing away from her.

“Cas?”

Christ. Old memories and whatever the hell this is between Mandy and me pull me in two different directions. I can’t bring myself to look at her. Not yet. I wouldn’t be able to help myself. “We’re all right. We’ll be all good. Just, can you go home, Mandy? For now? Or go find Sam. That would probably be a better use of your time.”

I clench my teeth. Shouldn’t have added that last bit. I’m not going to be able to stop wondering whether she takes my advice.

“Okay,” she says. “Call me tonight?”

“Absolutely.” There’s probably nothing that could stop me from needing to know whether she spent time in that jackass’s arms after she leaves mine.

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