Page 29 of Catching Mr. Right

Chapter Twelve

MANDY

Sometimes that man can be so…so… confusing. I slip through the front door of Summer’s house. The one she shares with her boyfriends, and, well, me. I kind of accidently moved in and haven’t worked out how to move out again yet. Oops. It’s just finding a place to rent hasn’t been easy, but it’ll happen, and then I’ll be out of their hair. The sooner the better though, especially with the noises that come from the bedroom the three of them share. Like now, with the deep rumbling voices and the soft groans and cries that make this trip to my own bedroom far more pervy than it needs to be. All they need is some seventies style bow chick a wow music.

I slip into my own room and close the door, lean up against it. Perfect timing since another door opens, Dylan laughs, and then thuds down the hallway. I can’t complain. I’m the one ruining their love in by being here. Slipping away from the door, I flop down on my unmade bed. The silk sheet is still rumpled from this morning, the coverlet, more on the floor than on the single mattress. Single, because who needs anything bigger if they’re not sharing it? Not that it’ll probably be a problem shortly. It’s only a matter of time before Sam Sweets takes up more space than I presently have in my bed. With his wide shoulders, his height, he’d probably hang off this bed in all directions. I toss a peach shag cushion onto the floor.

Cas certainly would. I don’t understand him at all. One minute he’s grumpy, broody Cas who yells and cusses, the next he’s my best friend. Or he would be if Summer didn’t happen to hold that spot. But the way he touches me, that’s not friendly. It’s something else, and I can’t help responding to it, liking it, wanting him to do it again. Even if I should be concentrating on winning over Sam. Cas is just a distraction. One hell of a distraction, but still, I should be able to focus on the problem at hand.

Even now my panties are damp from when Cas pushed me up against the kitchen door. I thought he was going to kiss me right there and then. Hell, let’s not be naïve, I could sense how much he wanted to fuck me, to punish me for pushing his buttons. How tight his muscles were, quivering with the control it must have taken him to hold back, and I didn’t want him to. I needed him like I’ve never needed anything. My mind trips over the incident, another flash of arousal flooding me.

I’m not with Sam yet. He still isn’t letting me in. That’s probably why I don’t feel wrong about these moments with Cas. Or the fact that I undo the tie on the front of my shorts and push them down my legs, then swing one leg over the bed and drop them on the floor. Tangling my feet in the silk sheet scrunched up at the end of the bed, I bend my knees and let my thighs fall to the side. Skimming the elastic of my panties, I slip my fingers under the lace. Would Sam be able to hold onto his indignation if he saw me like I am now? With my hand in my panties, touching myself. Would Cas be able to keep his hands off me?

“Christ, look at you.” Sam’s blue eyed gaze is locked onto where my hand moves inside my silk panties, as he sits on the edge of my bed. “Absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe I denied my feelings for you for so long.” His hand lands on my knee, slides up my thigh to the spot below where my own fingers caress my clit. “I love that you play with yourself when you think of me.”

“I do. Have since the first time I met you.” I slip a finger along my slit and inside me. I’m so wet. Gathering up some of my arousal, I rub small circles over that sensitive spot.

“You told me you wanted my dick in you and I’ve wanted nothing else these past twelve months.” He curls a finger into my panties, bumps against my own. “Denying you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s almost impossible to keep my hands off you.”

“Then don’t.” I arch under my touch, my fingers creating wet sounds along with my own harsh breath. “I’m yours, Sam. All yours.”

“Good.” He grins, as he pushes my legs further apart and kneels between them. “First, I’m going to taste you and then I’m going to fill you with my cock.” One hand grips my hip and lifts me up, the other tears away my panties, leaving me exposed. “You’re the only girl I’ll ever want to fuck again.”

Bowing over me, his hand squeezes my fingers as he pulls them from my sopping pussy and puts his mouth there instead. I cry out, squeeze my eyes shut, and arch up off the bed as his tongue swipes my clit.

His mouth is heaven. His tongue muscle must be strong with the way he plays me. First licking at my clit, then roving over each inch of me. He uses his fingers to spread me apart and flicks his tongue inside me. The hot, wet rasp of each taste he takes drives me to delirium.

Whimpering, I push my own fingers into my entrance. One, then two. Finger fucking myself to this erotic daydream.

His hair is thick silk in my hands. Dark, and slightly wavy, twisted around my knuckles. Sam’s gone.

Instead, I see Casper. Feel him between my legs. He groans and licks, grumbles and strokes his fingers inside me, touching that part of me only my vibrator ever seems to really reach. A heavy, hot ache of pleasure unfurls inside me, a darkness that eats at the edges of my vision. He drags me closer and closer with each swipe of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers.

“Casper,” I cry out, clinging to him. My thighs squeeze his head, my hands hold him as close as we can get while I squirm against his mouth.

He glances at me, his dark eyes hungry and hot. A solid wall of muscle, he rises up, crawls over me to press his lips to my mouth. They’re covered in me, slick with my arousal. I taste myself on him as he kisses me, then he grasps my hips and flips me onto my belly. His wide palm smooths down my spine and over my ass as he settles on his haunches between my legs, then he brings his hand down hard on one cheek. “Mandy, girl, I am going to devour you. I’m going to make you feel in ways you didn’t know are possible, and the only way I’m going to stop is if you make me.”

I fuck myself harder, sparks lighting up with each stroke, the vivid image of Cas right behind my eyelids. It’s so real I can almost taste his sweat, the mint he chews. So intense I can smell the musk of his skin, rich and spicy like leather. My inner walls spasm as I rub as much pleasure from my orgasm as I can before my own touch becomes painful.

Dropping my hand to my side, I wait for my breathing to slow down, for my heart to stop pumping so fast. Maybe I don’t feel all that guilty about being attracted to Cas, but that doesn’t make me any less confused. Why does he affect me so much when I’m clearly destined to be with Sam?

My phone rings from inside my bag hung from the bedroom door handle, and I sit up. There’s no point in lying here wondering about Cas when I need to be working on making Sam fall in love with me. Picking up my shorts, I wrinkle my nose. Cas couldn’t keep his eyes off them.

Maybe they’ll have the same effect on Sam.

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