Page 39 of Catching Mr. Right

“Don’t,” she whispers. Twigs snap under her feet as she moves in front of me, her hand going to my cock, hesitating. The heat of her fingers is right there above my skin. My dick twitches and grows. “Twelve inches?”

“Close enough.” I can’t move. Can’t make my muscles work while she stands so near, almost touching me. “Enough to destroy my life.”

“I am so sorry that you lost someone you loved.”

“Me too.”

“Surely it was an accident?”

“That’s what the investigators said, but I was right there with her. I should have been able to do something about it.” It actually feels good to tell her, though it doesn’t change anything. Somehow it’s like her knowing and laughing over it makes it not so horrifying.

Looking up at me, she bites her lip. “Can I touch it?”

Fuck. I haven’t been this naked with another person since Juliette. I haven’t let anyone touch me. In fact, Mandy’s the only one who has gotten around my grouchiness. And I want her to touch me. I need her to wrap her hand around me. I tamp down on the fear that runs through my veins and nod.

Her fingers play across my shaft, over the top and then along the thick raised vein underneath. I hiss out a breath and look up at the sky as my erection swells. If I look at her I’m going to want more than I can have, and it might kill me to know that I can’t have her because she means so much to me.

There are things one isn’t supposed to experience more than once in a lifetime, though this sensation beating in my chest is almost familiar. Her nails scratch lightly around the crown of my cock and then she wraps her palm around as much of me as she can and strokes. There’s pleasure in her touch, there’s pain in my memories. My hips rush to meet her hand, over and over and over.

“Cas?” she whispers as she squeezes and strokes me.

When I look at her she’s flushed pink, her lips open as she pants softly to the rhythm of her hold on me. With a growl, I crush her to me and suck and lick at her mouth while I coat her hand with my cum. Mandy Pearce is breaking me down inch by inch, brick by brick. I’m not sure I’ll survive when she stops.

***

Razer is talking to me about something. I can’t really hear him all that well over the band at the front of the barn. In front of us fifty odd kids, twenty staff, numerous volunteers, and the kids’ families mingle. A lot of them are dancing. I’m propped against the wall watching her.

It’s a costume party. The kids made theirs out of whatever they could find. I’m pretty sure one of them decided to wave some branches around and call himself a tree, but most of them put in some real thought and the adults pitched in to make their ideas a reality.

Mandy is wearing wings. Sparkly sequined fairy wings with a bright pink tutu and a white leotard. She’s even colored her hair pink for the occasion. She’s so fucking beautiful.

Behind her Sam stands with Summer. He can’t stop watching Mandy either, his gaze tracking her every move. They’ve been getting closer over the past few weeks thanks to his helping her go through the paperwork we took from her grandmother’s attic. A feral sound vibrates in my throat.

“You and Mandy are getting close?” Razer says. “That’s really good to see.”

“What?” I tear my attention away from Sam and Mandy.

“You and Mandy,” he repeats louder.

“What about me and Mandy?”

“You two serious?”

Mandy flits between the kids, spinning and twirling. She’s even got herself a wand. And a bag of trinkets to hand out. She catches me staring and breaks into a grin. I swear if there wasn’t a room full of children she’d probably seduce me with her dance moves. It wouldn’t even be on purpose to make that jackass who isn’t good enough to be her Mister Right jealous. It wouldn’t take much for her to wind me around her little finger. She’s all I can think about since that afternoon in the forest.

Not that we’ve talked about what happened.

She’s caught me staring at her a few times and was unable to hide the blush in her cheeks or the way her nipples stabbed at her top.

I’ve caught her with her gaze glued to my ass, or my crotch, and I’ve been unable to swallow, let alone speak. My mouth waters for another taste.

She’s asked me all kinds of questions about Juliette until it’s not so hard to answer them, and she’s reminded me again and again and again how it has to have been an accident, until I started to see things from her point of view. She’s told me over and over that my dick isn’t as horrifying as I like to make it out to be. It’s actually quite a nice dick, according to her.

But we haven’t talked about how she asked me to take her virginity or whether she still wishes I would. And we haven’t discussed how I can’t stop wondering how far I could go with her before I freaked out about my goddamn cock. We haven’t spoken of hard limits, like how I am never going to let another woman put her mouth on my dick.

And I want to discuss those things with her. Now. Before she goes to dinner with Sam Sweets tonight. Pushing off the wall, I make my way to where she’s talking to one of the kids. She stands up and fluffs the front of her tutu as I get to her.

“Come on.”

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