How Cassie Got Her Grind Back (45 page)

“What is it?” she asked.

“Bread pudding with Jack Daniels sauce, and a scoop of Blue Bell’s finest.” He hovered the loaded spoon before her and shook his head when she reached to take it. “Nope. You have strict instructions from the Dom to not lift a finger. Let me feed you.” She glanced up in time to see the vulnerability in his gaze, the need to take care of her and comfort her. She opened her mouth, and moaned as the warm bread pudding and whiskey sauce combined with the melting vanilla ice cream made her taste buds go
twang
. It was sheer heaven.

He waggled his eyebrows as she moaned. “That’s a nice sound. Is it good?”

“So good. I want more.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said and took in a deep breath and let it out, seeming to relax right where he sat as he scooped up another bite.

“You didn’t answer all of my questions.” She took the spoonful he offered and closed her eyes in bliss.

“I’m okay, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been around Samson when he’s done anything…like that before. It was unsettling, especially when I could tell it was starting to really hurt, but then I noticed how you were struggling to hold it all in. Then I understood.”

“Understood what?” she asked before he gave her another bite.

“Why you needed the release. Why it was the perfect way to get to you. You’ve been almost unsettlingly quiet the last several days, except for when you woke up screaming from nightmares. We could see you having flashbacks during the day, and it was obvious you were holding in a lot of emotion and it was taking its toll on you. The spanking seemed to break the dam you’d built up.”

“Did it ever.”

“And I think I even understand why Samson does what he does. I guess when he told me he was a sadist, I let my imagination get the best of me. You know, like that he beat on hapless masochists who begged for it with villain-like glee. I watched him, baby. He was utterly focused on you, your every move, every twitch, probably every breath you took. He knew what he was doing…where he was taking you, and why. Now that I see the results, and understand what he does, I also understand why. Because he couldn’t stand seeing you suffer. He had to do something to help you. And when he was through, it seemed like…No, it didn’t ‘seem like’ anything at all, the satisfaction was written all over his face, because you let him help you.”

He continued feeding her bites as she mulled over what he said. “I’m glad you were there.”

“I wanted to be there for you, even though I had no intention of participating. I’d be too nervous about hurting you and probably miss all the cues that he’s trained to watch for in a submissive. Although…” he added, trailing off as he gave her another spoonful.

“What?” she murmured over her mouthful.

He winked at her. “I might try a sexy spanking with you sometime. You know? Just something for fun while we’re fooling around.”

Cassie giggled. “We’ll discuss that later, when my butt cheeks aren’t boiling hot.”

Samson’s laughter rumbled as he came down the hall to lean against the door frame. “How’s your ass?”

“It’ll recover. How’s your hand?” she quipped as he closed the door and locked it behind him.

He came around to the other side of the bed and sat down beside her. “I think I’ll survive,” he murmured as he stroked her shoulder. Vulnerability softened his tone. “Thank you for trusting me, Cassandra.”

“You earned that trust, honey. I won’t say it was fun, but I do feel like a heavy load has been lifted from my shoulders.”

“You’ve been carrying that burden a while, I guess,” he said and then looked over at the bowl in Ivan’s hand. “Is Ivan taking good care of you?”

“You both are.” She touched their forearms and said, “Thank you. Both of you. You knew what I needed.”

“Speaking of needing something,” Samson said as he showed her the tube in his hand, “this is a soothing cream. I like using it for aftercare. It’ll help with the stinging and with any welts that are still there.”

He tugged the blanket loose and tilted her on her side toward Ivan and his heavenly dessert. She went with it, squeaking when he smoothed some of the super chilly cream onto her still-very-hot bottom.

“How do you feel otherwise, chiquita?” he asked, his blue eyes meeting hers, his question clear.

“Better. Wrung-out, but better.”

He nodded. “There’s not much we can do about the situation with your father besides help you see that he gets proper care wherever he winds up after all the dust settles. But Ivan and I are going to be here for you. I don’t know if you remember much of what I said earlier, but I was being serious when I said that you are enough for us, just the way you are and who you are, and we want to be there for you no matter what comes at us down the road. Now, you need more rest, unless you want to have supper.”

“Nope,” she said with a shake of her head as she pushed the blanket off of her and came up on her hands and knees, hissing when her butt made contact with her heels. “Ivan spoiled my appetite for dinner…but I’ve developed an appetite for another kind of dessert. If you’re both willing, that is.”

Ivan had his fly unbuttoned and unzipped in the blink of an eye. Samson worked the top button loose on his jeans as he chuckled and slid down onto the bed. “Sweetest words I’ve ever heard, chiquita. I’ve been hard ever since you started squirming over my lap.”

When Ivan returned home from picking up the belongings he’d kept at Hermione, mostly tools of the trade, as well as the few articles he kept in his locker, he left them in the truck until they could sit down with her later that night to
finally
talk.

Inside her house, he found Cassie sitting at the baby grand piano they’d given her for Christmas. She’d rearranged the furniture in the living room to make room for it in front of the picture window, leaving the room a little cramped. The happy glow on her face every time she played it made up for cramped knees and bruised shins.

He was especially glad now that they’d chosen to replace the piano her father had sold years before because she’d sat at it a lot in the several days since the spanking, finding solace in her music.

Joseph’s treatment and recovery were progressing, and he and Ivan were already talking plans for the new incarnation of Divine Drip. The same, only better, with more seating, a bigger menu, and evening hours for the night owls. But Cassie still insisted on being closed on Sundays.

“When I retire, you can set whatever hours you want. Until then…I’m the boss,” she’d said and then had giggled when Samson had cocked a brow. It’d been the first time Ivan had heard that sound in days.

Delicia had announced the day before that she was going away to spend a few days with her sister, who lived in San Antonio.

“What are your plans?” Cassie asked.

Delicia kissed her daughter’s forehead. “We’re spending some girl time together and might go shopping if the weather is pretty. Don’t worry,
mi hija
, no gambling. I promise. And she’s picking me up and bringing me back home so you don’t need to worry about me driving.”

Cassie had looked reassured and relieved by that news, and over her mom’s head, she’d winked at him suggestively. Although Delicia’s vision wasn’t as good as it had been, her hearing was as acute as ever so they’d kept their lovemaking quiet. Thoughts of the rambunctious fun they’d planned for her once they were finally alone had caused him to walk around with a semi-boner all day. He could almost taste her.

She was so wrapped up in the tune she played, she gasped when he came up behind her and pressed a soft kiss to the spot at the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, knowing the skin was so sensitive there it would spread a trail of goose bumps all over her body.

“You startled me. Oh, how gorgeous!” she said as she reached for him, admiring the paper-wrapped bouquet he laid on the piano so he could embrace her.

“Don’t let me disturb you if you’re working. The melody is beautiful.”

“I was making supper, and it came to me. So while my casserole was baking I’ve been writing.” She paused and smiled. “I used to do that all the time, have bits of melodies or lyrics come to mind that I’d write down to work on later, but then I got married and Bill wanted supper on the table and the house picked up when he got home…and then kids came along. I’d tell myself I’d remember and write my ideas down later, but with little ones and a husband to take care of, I’d forget. After a while, that creativity…tapered off until it stopped. I found some of those notes mixed in with the sheet music in my guitar case this afternoon, and it all started coming back.”

It pleased Ivan that her eyes shone with happiness, but her smile had a sad quality to it, and he said, “Bill was a throwback from another time, taking advantage of your devotion. It doesn’t help much now, but if I’d been lucky enough…” The sudden thought of being the one who’d fathered her children and come home to her every day made him breathless so he took a seat on the bench beside her. “I would’ve helped you and not made a servant out of you.”

Placing her hand on his chest, she said, “I didn’t resent my role. I was proud of taking care of my family, and the kids were so good, and he was a stable provider. To complain felt like…inviting trouble. Now I’m in a season in my life where I can pick up those loose threads.” She caressed the black lacquer finish of the piano. “And I even have a piano to work with. Despite the bad stuff, life is good.”

“And only going to get better, baby,” he murmured as he brushed his lips against hers. “Samson texted that he’d left work and should be here soon.”

Checking her watch, she said, “Supper is nearly done. I’ll have it on the table in just a few minutes.”

He stopped her and said, “I’ll handle it. I need to put the flowers in water, too. You relax and finish what you were writing.”

Sounding surprised, Cassie said, “I still need to cut up the ingredients for a salad to go with the chicken and rice. I can have it done in no time—”

Ivan chuckled and urged her back to the piano bench. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m pretty handy with a knife.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, picking up her pencil again.

“Very,” he murmured as he stole one more kiss. “I’ll let you know when it’s all ready.”

The sound of the piano and her soft humming was relaxing as he listened from the kitchen. A few minutes later, he heard Samson come in the front door and greet her quietly before coming in the kitchen, a grin on his face as he tilted his head in her direction and whispered, “That’s a fine sight to come home to.”

“Isn’t it?” he murmured as he finished stirring the ingredients for a homemade salad dressing and placed it on the table with everything else. He turned expectantly to his brother and grinned when Samson patted a lump in his coat pocket.

After everything was set, he lit the candles and turned out the lights while Samson went into the living room. The piano went quiet and he bit his lip as he listened to their quiet murmurs, and the silence of a long kiss, before Samson drew her by the hand into the dim kitchen.

“Candles? And flowers. Wow. And we have the house to ourselves,” she said. “Is there a special occasion I forgot about?”

“Well, we do have news,” Samson offered as he pulled out her chair for her.

“What news?” she asked as she lifted the cover on the casserole and said, “If I’d known this was going to be an occasion I would’ve made something fancier than chicken and rice casserole.”

“Are you kidding?” Samson asked, rubbing his stomach. “This is one of my favorites.”

“So what’s your news?” she asked after they’d served themselves, as Ivan poured white wine into a glass for her.

Samson nodded to him as he filled a frosted beer glass for his brother and then took his seat. “Eat first while it’s hot. Then we’ll tell you our news.”

Looking as if she wanted to insist, she finally nodded. Anticipation filled him as they ate. When the meal was nearly done, she said, “I can’t stand it anymore. What’s your news?”

After taking a sip of his wine, Ivan smiled at her. “I’ve left Hermione’s employment.”

“What? You did? But how?”

He explained to her all that had come to pass on the day of the fire and his subsequent conversations with his former employer. “After the nonsense she pulled, visiting the shop, and then her appalling lack of compassion the day of the fire, I realized there was no way I could be happy working there anymore. She flew off the handle when I told her as much and went so far as to insist that you’d set the fire yourself, for attention. When she demanded I work out the duration of my contract, which expires in March, I pointed out she’d already breached it in front of witnesses by not giving me thirty days’ notice.”

“I’m so sorry, Ivan.”

He chuckled and took another sip of his wine. “Why?”

Pausing, she looked down at her plate and then said, “I don’t know. Aren’t you sad you won’t be cooking there anymore? You had a following.”

Nodding in agreement, he replied. “I plan to keep cooking…for you, if you’ll have me. This just moved up my availability. And my following, as you call it, won’t mind visiting Divine. Joseph will be stepping in to help as soon as he’s fully recovered and we can all make beauty out of ashes together.”