Conviction (The Cassano Series Book 4) (4 page)

Sadie

“Open this goddamn door, Sadie. I fucking mean it!”

Simon has rung the bell several times and beaten on the door. I’ve been groaning and cursing loudly, so he knows I’m here. He’s not going to let up.

Flinging the door open, I find him looking exasperated. Not angry, only desperate. My eyes skate from his head to his feet. “You look like shit.”

“You look fucking hot. Let me in. I’m tired of you not returning my calls and text messages.”

My eyes roll. “I’m late for class, Simon.”

“And you’re going to be later. I’m done giving you space. If you can’t see the great thing we have between us, then it’s time I remind you.”

He intrudes on my space, slamming the door behind him. His eyes rake along my body, and I know what he’s thinking.

He mentioned his schoolgirl fantasy before in a joking manner, but I’ve always imagined it was a true fantasy of his.

My hair is held up messy by a pencil, and his gaze is drawn to my short, red and black plaid skirt and white buttoned up blouse.

“I’ve been waiting months to see this look on you,” he says with a crooked smile that quickly turns into a scowl. “Do you think you’re going out dressed like this?”

“That was the plan.”

“You’re only
my
naughty schoolgirl. I love you. You love me. We’re going to get through this together.”

I try to hide a smile, but he sees it. Now, he’s brandishing a sly grin.

“Give it to me. Give me that smile before I smother it with a kiss.”

I do smile–broadly. “Simon, you’re incorrigible.”

“I never claimed to be a golden boy, and you knew that from the beginning, so you have to forgive me. Now, let me taste your mouth. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

My arms sling around his neck, and I crash my lips to his, giving him a solid but short kiss.

“I missed you like crazy, too.” Leaning my head against his chest, I breathe in his scent. I can tell he hasn’t showered, but the clean smell of his cologne still lingers against his shirt.

“I’m scared over how much I love you. What if you’re taken from me?”

He grips the sides of my head and lifts it, so he can stare into my eyes. “Doll, I promise I will do whatever it takes to get out of this mess. My brothers and I are super close to fixing it. Losing you would be the worst thing I could endure in a lifetime.”

“You’re such a smooth talker.”

“I mean every word, but does it work?”

I nod. “Yeah, it works.”

He kisses me passionately, his hands sliding over my ass in the process. I swallow his desperate groans, the sounds a plea for my forgiveness.

“You’re wearing the outfit I’ve envisioned on you a million times. I jerk off to that image.”

Whipping back, I smack his chest.

“Simon!”

“What? You should be flattered.” My cheeks are scorching hot as I lay one against his chest.

“Fuck me, Simon. Fuck your schoolgirl.”

“Damn, I love you.” Gripping my shoulders, he walks me backward toward the sofa. “Turn around and bend over.”

One side of my mouth tilts up into a lazy smile, my eyes squinting with a hint of dirty. Turning for him, I stick my ass right out, and he flips up my skirt.

“Holy shit
, you’re wearing the cutest damn panties.”

I stifle a giggle as he holds the skirt up for several seconds, eyeing the red satin that is trimmed in lace.

Sliding a hand over my right ass cheek, he then slips my panties over my hips and down to my knees. The sound of his zipper makes my muscles clench. He shoves fingers into me, and I whimper.

“
Christ
, doll, you’re dripping wet.” I hear him wasting no time getting a condom from his wallet. He torments the both of us by gradually sliding his cock into me inch by inch.

I can hardly take how incredible it feels as he fills me full with his thick girth. My hands hug the arm of the sofa, and I let out a lengthy moan.

“Simon, I’ve missed this so much.”

“Same here, sweetheart.” Picking up speed, he thrusts into me. “Tell me your mine. Tell me, Sadie. My heart couldn’t take losing you again.”

“Simon, I’m yours.” My words come out irregular as I pant. He slams into me faster.

Harder.

Needier.

“Tell me you’re changing out of this sexy outfit before class, too.”

“I was being defiant against you.”

“Yeah, and check that shit at the door. God, I fucking love everything about you, even this feisty attitude.” Reaching his hand around, he rubs my clit until I’m shaking and holding my breath.

“Give me your orgasm, baby. Let me hear every second of it.” Driving into me one last time, we both reach our threshold of pleasure.

His hips shove me farther against the sofa, and his fingertips sink into my ass cheeks as he comes inside of me.

“I. Love. You. Woman.” He slips out of me, and I instantly want to feel him hard inside me again. I pull up my undies and straighten my clothes while he removes the condom.

Spinning me around, his tongue plunges into my mouth, and I savor the smoldering feel of it. I wrap my arms snugly around his neck, and his breathing begins to slow, his kiss becoming less eager.

The desperation he was feeling has faded. He’s cherishing my mouth, every stroke precise and gentle as his anxiety leaves with each passing breath.

Letting my lips go, he glides a hand around the nape of my neck and stares into my eyes.

“You’re my nicotine. You calm me and make everything in the world better. I might lose my shit right here over how in love I am with you, Sadie. You’re going to be mine forever.”

Tara

Zev helps me into his condo building that is situated on a road parallel to the east side of the Vegas Strip or Las Vegas Blvd.

It’s in a tower, and once we’re inside the elevator, he presses a button for the eighteenth floor. He stares straight ahead in silence.

He’s also holding his suitcase that had been sitting outside my door. He appears anxious, and I wonder if he’s regretting bringing me here.

“Are you sure you want me here?” I ask meekly.

His head snaps my way. “Yes, of course. It’s just different. My brothers and friends have been here. That’s it.”

I grin at him. “So, should I feel special?”

Stepping toward me, Zev kisses my forehead.

“You are special, sweetheart.”

His place is across the hall from the elevator doors. He unlocks it and steps aside for me to enter. It’s massive and neat, looking unlived in.

The great room is wide open except for a half wall in the middle. It’s made of a dark tan marble and has a built in fireplace.

The side of the room facing it has a cream colored sofa and two light tan chairs that match the shiny sand color flooring. I notice a blanket wadded up on the sofa. There is a square cream rug in front of the fireplace, too.

The remainder of the great room is empty. The kitchen opens up to it, concealed only by a long curved counter stretching far, the top of it a light tan granite.

Some mail rests in a pile and an empty bottle of water but otherwise nothing. Nervously, Zev grabs the water bottle and goes to the kitchen to throw it away.

“I’m not here much.”

“Don’t you sleep here every day after work?”

“No. I stay here maybe a few times a week. I crash a lot at Submission. I sleep in one of the hotel rooms, and we have a private gym on one of the floors. We have plenty of food options there, too, so it’s all I need.”

I frown. “So, Submission feels like home to you?”

“I didn’t say that. I said it has everything I need. Well, it did. I’m not feeling that way now that you’re here.”

He approaches me and lightly rubs my arms.

“Now that you’re here, this is right where I want to be.”

I wish I could smother myself against his firm, warm body, but I’m hurt too badly. It stinks.

“Come with me.” Taking my hand, Zev leads me out of the great room and into a short hallway. There are two doors centered at the end of it.

They open to a master bedroom that blows my mind. It’s enormous. The floor has a thick carpet in a light tan that matches the marble throughout the rest of the house.

I slip off my flip-flops, and my feet sink into the plush fibers. It’s heavenly.

His wooden bed is covered in a chocolate brown comforter, but there are no decorative pillows.

I glance around the room, and there are only a couple of dressers. They have nothing sitting on them except for the wide chest with a mirror attached to it.

It has a small rectangular tray resting on it. Its contents appear to be cufflinks and a set of keys. I don’t let my gaze linger, not wanting to appear nosy.

His house makes me sad. Although the architecture and furniture is beautiful, it has no personalization. No character. It’s as empty as I think Zev has felt.

There is a flat screen TV mounted to the wall across from his bed, and I notice the remote on his nightstand. It holds nothing else except for a coaster.

After I’ve looked around a minute, Zev takes my hand again and directs me to the master bath. It’s gigantic, too, with a garden tub encased in a cream marble.

“Um, I thought you might like to take a bath. I can’t cook worth a damn, but I will get food delivered for us. I imagine you are hungry.”

Zev starts the water and gathers some towels and a washcloth from a closet. I use the time to look around. There are two separate vanities, each with a sink.

There is a glassed in shower, and I picture Zev in it, his muscular frame shifting and flexing as he washes his hair and naked body.

After laying the towels by the tub, he scratches his head. He seemed more comfortable at my apartment, and I worry he’s retreating and will push me away again.

“OK, I’ll leave you alone.”

He strolls out of the room with his hand nervously on his neck. I pull a hair tie I had shoved into my shorts pocket and put my long strands on top of my head.

My clothes come off carefully, so I don’t ache more than I already do, and I use the same cautious finesse to climb into the bathtub.

Sinking down into it, I welcome the sting of the scorching water. My stiff muscles begin to relax, and I’m overcome with emotion.

Zev’s demeanor having changed leaves me confused, and as I sit in the quiet of an unfamiliar place, I’m taken back to last night; a dreadful night I don’t know how I will forget.

Zev

I have no fucking clue how to physically care for another person. I realized once Tara was here that I have nothing to offer her.

I have no food, no clothes. While I ran her bath, I discovered I had nothing to put in it to make it bubble or smell nice. Don’t chicks like that shit?

Panicking, I dial my housekeeper who I might call twice a year. She comes and goes once a week, and we only leave each other notes.

She cleans for me and stocks my fridge with the few things I keep here. She’s in her fifties and cleans Simon’s place, too.

“Marla, it’s Zev Cassano. I need your help.” I ask her if she’ll make a quick trip to the store to get some groceries. I ramble off some things to her that I’ve learned Tara likes. I tell her I will pay her for another few days of service if she’ll do this for me. Thankfully, she agrees.

The next person I need help from might not be as easy to persuade. I wish I could call Blanca, but that’s definitely out of the question, so I dial Kruse’s number.

“Hello,” he says gruffly. Shit, it’s morning. He probably hasn’t been in bed long.

“Kruse, it’s Zev. I need your sister’s number.”

“What the fuck for?”

“I need to ask her to go shopping for me.”

“You’re crazy. You know that? Sometimes the things you and Simon ask of me blow my mind.”

“I’m sorry, man, but I don’t have any other female to ask.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “This isn’t you wanting her to buy a gift for Shannon.” He says this like a statement, not a question. He’s already figured me out.

“No, uh, it’s for someone else, and I don’t want to get into that right now. Can you give it to me?”

“OK, but if you fuck my baby sister, you’re a dead man.”

“Seriously? Give me a little more credit than that.”

We end our call, and Kruse texts me his sister’s contact info. I take a deep breath and call Kylie. I practically beg her to go shopping for me.

She’s in college and doesn’t work, so she jumps right on the opportunity. She says she’ll use her credit card, so I tell her I’ll pay back whatever she charges and then some. I end the call and go back to my room to check on Tara.

I hear her cries and barrel through the bathroom door. She’s still in the tub. Her head is slumped over, and she’s sobbing.

She has to know I’m in the room, but she doesn’t move as I strip off my clothing. Her cries echo in my bathroom, and I can’t stand it.

“Tara, scoot up. Let me in behind you.” Stepping into the water, I sink down and gently pull her back against me. Twisting in my arms, she faces me and buries her head against my chest. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she clings to me.

I know she’s thinking about
him
and what he did to her. I feel it. Leaning my head back, I stare up at the ceiling and stroke her hair. I think about the mental and physical pain she’s enduring, and I feel tears pricking my eyes.

Every emotion is clawing at me, trying to come to the surface. Part of me wants to flee and go back to the numbness I used to feel, but a bigger part wants to be near Tara.

I want to take her pain away. I could tell her it’s OK, but it’s not. What he did to her will never be, but I’m determined to be a man, not a coward, and give her all the good memories I possibly can.