Page 9 of Cascade

I often feel like he’d prefer to ring a silver bell to summon me when he needs something. He doesn’t often let me pet him or cuddle him. But he sits on his couch and listens to me when I need to talk. And then he squints at me if I really start going on a “what if” bender, like he’s thinkingjust deal with it. Whatever it is, just deal with it.And every time, I feel more centered.

I need to talk to my cat to calm down. How pathetic is that?

When I get to my house, I enter quietly, not wanting to wake Oscar, and then chastising myself for worrying so much about the sleep habits of a cat. I needn’t have bothered, anyway. I can see his eyes glowing at me from his sofa. “Want to hear about today’s baby?” He blinks. I sigh. I don’t want to be unloading onto a cat. Especially one who won’t even let me cuddle him.

Wandering into the kitchen, I find some dried seaweed snacks Indigo suggested I grab from the co-op. Oscar makes a face at me, and I concede that these do, indeed, taste like a fart.

Diana was right about that. I toss the remaining sheets of seaweed into the compost pail and think again about Diana. I cringe, remembering how I talked about my one-night-stand, gushed about my many orgasms, only to learn they’d been expertly doled out by none other than her brother.

Archer Crawford. I shouldn’t think about him. I should just accept that night for what it was and move on. Hot sex. Pure bliss. Release from the weight of all my thoughts. But one thought nags at me a little.I’m pretty much always awake,he’d said.

I look at Oscar again and fill his water dish. I check the clock—nearly 3 in the morning. Quite certain I’ve lost all grasp of my sanity, I grab a sweater and walk out of the house back toward Main Street. Most of the storefronts are dark. Insomnia Bakery has a light on in the back—Stu or his wife, Jess, must be in early getting a head start on the baked goods.

I look around a bit until I see the office for Archer Crawford, CPA. It’s fully illuminated, and even from the curb outside, I hear the sounds of country music coming from inside. I take a deep breath and, without fully deciding what I want to happen here, I push the door open and walk inside.

I find Archer at his desk, his back to me as he sings along off key and types furiously in a spreadsheet with one hand, shuffling papers with the other. I stand for awhile and just watch him move. He pauses now and then to scratch his stubbly chin or rub his neck, where his dark hair is in need of a trim.

He has no idea I’m in here, between the loud music and his intense concentration. Moving as if in a trance, I walk over to his desk, trailing my fingers along the slightly sticky edge of the wood. I stand an inch away from him, waiting, and eventually he stills.

He stops singing and looks up sideways at me standing over him. And a grin washes over his handsome face when he realizes it’s me standing in his office unannounced.

“Precious,” he drawls, reaching out to rub my backside. “Youare a sight for tired eyes.”

CHAPTER NINE

Archer

THREE IN THE morning. I look over Opal’s shoulder at the wall clock and see that it’s the damn middle of the night. How the hell many hours have I been crunching numbers? I use my free hand to turn off the music and rub the tired out of my eyes, but keep stroking Opal, because her skin feels good and it reminds me of last week. Today just got way better. Or is it tomorrow already?

I yawn. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well,” she says, seeming to hesitate as she looks around my messy office. I keep getting sent all these papers I have no use for. I do all my clients’ work on the computer, file everything electronically. Hunter’s buddy has me set up with some super special cloud backup. I should hire someone to come in here and shred all this mess. Hasn’t seemed important.

Opal brings her eyes back to meet mine and I watch her face transform, as her resolve sets in. “I’d like you to fuck me again.”

All the weariness zaps out of my body and I’m more alert than I’ve ever been. My dick turns to granite, pressing up against my stomach inside my jeans. I hadn’t even been thinking about getting laid again, but now that Opal is here and bossy and willing…yeah. I’m into it. I lean back in my desk chair and clasp my hands behind my neck, staring at her in her scrubs.

She seems disheveled and sweaty, and looks like she’s been working as long a day as I have. “You a doctor, Opal Whittaker?” I run my hand along the seam of her scrub pants, snaking up to her thigh.

She shakes her head. “No, but also, this is just for sex.” I shrug. This is uncharted territory for me, but I’m gonna roll with it. I let my thumb continue its lazy roam up her leg and mimic this action on the other round thigh. I love a woman with something to squeeze onto. Opal is all soft curves and thick thighs. I intend to wrap them around me this time. She sits sort of stiffly on the edge of my desk, breathing raggedly. “Should we lock the door?”

I shake my head. “More fun if we don’t.” I tug her waist abruptly and pull her toward me so she’s straddling me in my desk chair. My hands roam all over her cardigan, teasing her nipples into stiff peaks beneath too many layers of fabric. As I’m circling one nipple lazily with my thumb, she sets one hand around my shoulders and bites her lip. “Something wrong?” I ask.

She studies me for a minute, shuddering a bit as I continue to work on her nipple. “I’d like this to be quick.”

“You want quick?”

She nods. “Yes. This—” she gestures to the nipple I’m stroking—“feels great. But it’s been a long day and I’m here to clear my head.” She rocks her hips against my crotch, and I hiss at the contact against my tender dick, still remembering the head clearing I got the last time I saw Opal Whittaker.

She starts to lift off my shirt, and then hesitates. “You know what?”

I shake my head in disbelief. “I couldn’t start to guess.”

“We don’t even need to take off all our clothes,” she says, standing up and wriggling out of her scrub pants and panties. “Just pull your pants down a bit, Archer.”

“You’re bossy as hell,” I cough out as she unzips my pants. My cock springs free in the chilly air, wondering what the hell it’s doing up and awake in my office. I start to wonder if I fell asleep at my desk and this is a dream.

Opal nods. “Mm,” she says. “Yes. I am. Fuck me, now, and you can come as soon as I do. Then we can both get to bed.” She starts to climb back into my lap and before I can finish a thought, she slides her wet center down onto the tip of my cock.

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