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You’re mine.

“Alright kids, I’m going to go open the garage door for you from outside so I can clear the driveway. Hang tight.”

Jude whistled as he crossed the garage.

“See you,” Cassandra said, while I slipped my hand under her blazer, tugging up the soft silk of her blouse.

Reaching her skin and hearing her swallow a gasp.

Jude gave a wave and a little smile as he opened the door.

“Bye,” I nodded as he passed through, drawing my fingers in circles along Cassandra’s bare skin.

The door felt like it took an eternity to close.

Then it clicked home, and I was on her, pulling Cassandra Kelly toward me with the hand already on her back, my other gripping her jaw as I leaned down and slammed my mouth to hers. Our lips were hungry, tongues searching. The moaning, gasping sounds she made turned me into some kind of beast, walking her back until she was pressed up against the wall.

“Fuck, Cassandra,” I said. My hand slid down her throat, tipping her jaw up as I lunged for her neck, knowing we had only seconds before the garage door rolled open.

“We said we weren’t doing this,” she whispered as I drew my mouth down her neck, kissing the hot flesh there with raw, unbridled need, my dick already throbbing and fat.

“Fuck what we said,” I growled in her ear, sucking on her earlobe. “Fuck it all.”

15

CASSANDRA

We jumped apartas the door rattled open. I smoothed out my hair, panicky. But we were in shadow, in the back corner of the garage, and Jude was chatting with someone right outside the door.

“You should drive,” Blake said, his voice tight and low. He slipped me the keys, interlacing his fingers between mine for a moment as he transferred them into my palm. “You know where you’re going.” His eyes met mine and I swear I felt heat spurt between my legs.

I shook as I started up the cart, and Blake lay his hand on my thigh, pulling it away as I backed up and angled us out of the garage.

“Have fun!” Jude called after us.

I wove us down the path with agonizing slowness thanks to the throngs of golfers, mostly senior citizens.

“Do you know any of these people?” Blake asked.

I did a scan of their faces but saw only tourists. “No.”

“Good,” he said, bringing his hand back to my thigh, gripping my flesh. I’d worn a skirt today, a knee-length linen that crumpled under Blake’s fist.

A ripple of heat ran through me. A warning, too, in my brain.You can’t come back from this.

We went over a bump and his hand slid across my thigh, the scrape of his palm across my bare leg sending lightning to my center, as if fate was deciding for me.

With his free hand, Blake waved at the last couple on the path.

I sped up, going as fast as the cart could go. Rain pinged against the plexiglass windshield. “What are we doing, Blake?” I whispered.

Blake slid his hand further up, hiking my skirt up around my upper thighs. “We’re being alone together. Doing whatever the fuck we want.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, and realized I was on the verge of tears. Hot, angry, desperate tears. I was taking one last grasp at the sane, rational course of action.

“Do you want me to stop?” Blake asked, but his hand slid up and cupped my mound over the fabric of my underwear. I let out a sound at the pure, abject pleasure I felt as he pressed his fingers against me.

He didn’t move his hand, just held it there as if claiming the spot. I remembered the way he held his cock that night in the hotel room, as if in no rush.