Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance (8 page)

Cass shied away from the public eye, being more protective of Harry and his memory than wanting any exposure to enhance her own career in the art world.

Not before she passed by a paper stand one morning and saw a particularly unflattering photo taken of herself at some negotiation dinner with Hollywood big wigs. Oh not at the dinner of course. No, no. Cass had waited like some sad fool in the foyer of the hotel and bought chips on the way home. She was photographed walking beside Jonathan like an errant puppy, happy for the scraps of attention he chose to throw in her direction. She rolled her eyes when she thought of it, Jonathan didn’t have any chips himself. No. He was too stuffed from the fillet mignon he had eaten with the big boys. But chips were good enough for Cass.
Of course they bloody were
.         

And that is the exact moment the flash of the camera blinded her.

The headline pronounced, ‘Jonathan Smith signs million dollar deal’ and underneath read ‘Smith is accompanied by a buxom, busty redhead eating chips.’  The magazine had waxed lyrical about how famous Jonathan was becoming and Mused about how long it would take him to dump Cass for a Hollywood blonde. ‘A better model’, one of the journalists had said. The picture had showed Jonathan looking all sexy with his suit on and dumpy Mc Dump strolling beside him like a gimp, scoffing chips out of yesterdays’ newspaper. Oh Cass had laughed it off with Marie and Mark, but it had cut her to the bone. ‘A better model’ indeed.
Knob head
. Cass rubbed her jaw, a habit she had formed since the night he left. Damn it, why had she even thought about him. It had been over two years and she had healed physically, and well, she
was
healing on the inside too. It had been slow but she was getting there. The fact that she hadn’t touched a man since Jonathan made her doubt herself
. Hey girlie. You’ll get back out there. Sure, why wouldn’t you be cautious after that sack of shit?
  She nodded to herself. Falling in love just wasn’t on her agenda.

(
Cass)

Love thy self above all else.

Irish proverb

C
ass
woke with a jump and sat up poker straight in her bed. She was panting and lay back down on her pillows, wiping the sweat from the back of her neck. “Holy shitballs!”   That was the hottest sex dream she had ever had! Mr Rory whatshisface was just as sexy in her dream as he was in real life. He had fucked her every which way and she had woken up in a pool of sweat so turned on and frustrated, she was still tingling all over.

Hopping from the bed she headed for the shower stopping to put some coffee on and to check on Duffy, who was still snuggled up in her new pink wicker basket. Cass clasped her hands together and opened her eyes and mouth wide. She mouthed a silent and squeaky, “awwwwwww…look at her, cuteness overload!”

Jumping into the shower she yelped as the water went from freezing to boiling, until it settled on warm. Cass let the flow of water rush down her body, and cleanse her soul.
Okay, okay. Maybe not my soul, more liked cooled my bits. Okay? Trying for honesty here people
! Soaping her big breasts, she tweaked her nipples into peaks and rested against the wall of the double shower. Rubbing herself gently between her legs, she paused to enjoy the rising feeling of sexual pleasure that was building within her. Moving against her hand and closing her eyes, she pictured Mister T naked in front of her. Mister T was her childhood crush and usually was good for an orgasm. But, for some reason it wasn’t working. Mister T had been replaced by Rory! As much as she tried to picture mister T, even running through a particularly good A-Team episode in her head, she just couldn’t escape Rory. Cass shrugged and closed her eyes imagining Rory naked. He was easily a foot taller than her and her fingers shook as she imagined reaching out and touching his chest. Sliding her hand down to cover his smooth tanned skin, she imagined tracing her hand down, down to just below his belly button and further still. She imagined the feel of the smooth hard ridges between his hips.  And onto the Vee muscles. She snapped her head back.
Damn, I can’t remember what they’re called, what were those muscles called!?
She opened her eyes, shit, fuckin', something! There was a proper name for them, she’d ask Marie tomorrow.

Cass pulled her hand away from her pussy quickly, why was she thinking of Marie with her hand on her frickin' snatch?
Seriously inappropriate much! Okay focus, focus.

Closing her eyes again, she let her mind drift back to the sexgod and his luscious mouth. In fairness, her mouth obsession knew no bounds. Lips, whether the owners were male or female could turn her on just watching their owners speak. And boy did Rory have some mouth. His top lip was lightly pencilled in a distinctive cupids bow and his bottom lip was full and generous. Perfection. Remembering his top lip had a scar across the top making him look both tough and angry, made her pussy pulse.

Imagining his hands moulding and rubbing her breasts had her groaning aloud. She touched the showerhead to her clit and opened the folds with her right hand pressing the cold metal shower-head against herself. Reducing the temperature until it was cool; she moved the steel head against her pussy and moved her hips in a rhythm. Slow and soft at first and then quicker, quicker as she increased the pressure. She pressed her tits against the cold ceramic wall tiles.

The cold hardness made her nipples stick out even more; the roughness of the tiles scraped against her and caused both erotic pain and pleasure. Reaching up into the small cupboard above the wall, she felt around until her hand grasped her pink dildo.

Ah Mr T, come on down
. Keeping her left hand on the showerhead; her pussy buzzed from the repeated hammering the high velocity of the water was giving her. She manoeuvred herself and bent down to sit on it, taking the head against her pussy and letting it slide in an inch.
Oh fuck, yeah, that’s it; I’m taking your cock inside my pussy, Rory.  Yeah that’s it, push it in, and fuck my cunt.
She pushed it the whole way in, the full 9 inches of it thick and round. Cass liked it extra thick and had spent the last year becoming accustomed to it. She really had no other hobbies to speak of, which was probably a sad indication of the general direction her life had been going in recent times
. Stop over analysing for fuck sake!

She began to pat her pussy with the head of the shower as she moved and squirmed on Mr T’s thick cock! 
I’m gonna come soon, I’m gonna come, that’s it, fuck me harder, fuck my pussy harder
.
You big Irish bastard.
Cass fell to her knees on the floor of the shower fucking herself. She used the wall as leverage and humped the dildo up into her pussy while moving the shower head up and down. The water gushed against her as she climaxed hard, panting and moaning. She lay there for a minute rubbing her breasts and clenching her pelvic muscles, slightly disorientated from the force of her orgasm. As she took the dildo from her satisfied pussy and cleaned herself up as she thought about Rory.
Damn you Rorywhoeveryourare, thanks for that!
She looked at Mr T, looking all pink and well-worn and felt a bit guilty after all his hard work over the past year. He had been replaced by a big Irish sexgod and was too dildo-like, rubbery and brainless to even realise it.

“Sorry,” she whispered to him and grabbed her loofah.

(
Cass)

May misfortune follow you all your life

And never ever catch you.

Irish proverb.

R
ory felt strangely anxious as he walked through the front doors of The Muse gallery. He wanted Cassidy that much he was sure of; he wanted her more than he had wanted any woman in a long time. Maybe ever. But, he wanted her for her ability and talent too. It would allow him to get close to her, to figure out what kind of a woman she really was. In a recession, it paid to show that you still had the money to add art and expensive furnishing to your resorts, it made the clients feel more secure. Looking around the gallery as he walked through, Rory picked up pieces of sculpture and glass that were beautifully presented in alcoves around the main room. She had taste; that much was evident from the paintings and the work on display. He knew quite a lot about art, mainly what he liked and what he had studied on his own time, but he wasn’t as knowledgeable as someone like Cass. He admired her own artistic talent too and paused to study a series of paintings that bore her signature. His brother Darragh had bought some of her paintings a couple of years ago, without even knowing it was her work. He marvelled at how life unconsciously drew people into each other’s lives, without them even being aware of it. He pushed Darragh to the back of his mind. His brother was the only one who knew that he had found Cass. And to say he was unhappy about the deception was an understatement. He was livid that his brother had used his contacts to trace the Evans family, and wasn’t shy about letting Rory know exactly how he felt about it. Being the eldest of the O’Malley siblings, Darragh was also the most listened to and usually the most rational. He offered advice whether it was welcome or not and doled out the odd telling off, when he deemed it appropriate. He had told Rory in no uncertain terms what he thought of his plan regarding Cass.

“You might have an IQ of 200 Rory, but you’re as thick as cow-shite when it comes to common sense.” Rory winced when he thought of it. Somewhere inside him he agreed with Darragh. But it was too late to back out now, especially since he had met Cass. There was no walking away from her now, not until he had got her out of his head.

“Hello,” he called out, his voice echoed around the high ceilings. As was usual for Rory, he had arrived thirty minutes early. Admittedly it was a tactic. He liked nothing more than to catch people off guard, to put them off their game slightly. It was a negotiation tactic his dad had taught him, one that usually paid dividends.

The place was deserted, but the door had been unlocked.
What the hell kind of security is that for heaven’s sake?

He heard laughter and voices coming from a room in the back and made his way towards it.

“I couldn’t even finish the story Mar, who writes
piss slit
in a romantic novel for fuck sake? How is that sexy? He pushed his piss slit into her soaking wet channel. I mean, really!?”

“Cass, it’s better than she creamed herself and he lapped at her cream like a starving man!”

“This is true. Licking her cream, always reminds me of a yeast infection. Girl, get that shit looked at, yuck.”

“Except for the prince song, Cream. Oh, I love that song, it makes me so horny! Get on top. Creammmmm.” Marie sang while shaking her ass at Cass who was standing on a chair replacing a light bulb.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one.  Although Get Off is a much better song. Now that
is
sex.”

“That’s only because you made out with Miles Jones to it at the disco in the community hall, ten years ago.”

Cassidy wagged her finger.

“Now, now, Marie, jealousy is a most unbecoming trait in a lady. Pass me the new bulb, will ya?”

“Cass, you’re right, yeah. I wish I had sampled that particular treat. Especially before he came out a few months later. I really, I mean reallllly...wish I had got in there first before you managed to gay him up. What exactly did you do to the poor boy?”