Resisting Cassidy (A Forbidden Romance)

Cassidy

Falling for me.
No big deal.
He thinks...
Not knows.
I should be concentrating on how good Tate's soapy, wet body felt against me in the shower. Not what he blurted out in the kitchen.
He thinks...
Falling...
Cheese on a cracker, what was I supposed to do with that? It was a proclamation of sorts I didn't except to hear from him. Not now. Not not ever, maybe someday, not now. We hadn't even been on a real date yet.
Falling? For me?
Id told him I was his on more than one occasion but I hadn't expected anything from him. He's growled in my ear "mine", but I chalked it up to burning arousal, a primal urge to claim.
But falling?
For me?
"Cassie."
Me?
Had he seen himself? Tate wasn't just hot. He was smart, super smart, sexy, so sexy, and yeah, hot. Gorgeous.
"Cass."
And me? I could be pretty if I tried. Beautiful if I tried harder. I finished with a high GPA because I worked my ass off for it, not because it came naturally. Tate had his life figured out. I was still floundering. How could he be falling for me?
"Cassidy, if you don't stop overthinking I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be thinking of anything else after."
Tate's warning had me gasping, and yeah, stopped me from dissecting his every word in the kitchen.
I faced him, the soap in my hands, the water pruning my fingers. How long had I been in the shower? "Oh uhm...I wasn't..."
"Freaking out," he supplied, eyebrow arched.
"No. I wasn't. I was just thinking."
"Nice try. You were...Freaking out. You were absolutely freaking out." He flicked a knuckle under my chin, his eyes serious. "Don't." A slow, teasing smile morphed his expression into playful one.
Tate took the soap from me, rubbed it between his hands to form a lather and replaced it back on the square niche in his tiled shower. He sucked his bottom lip in his mouth and regarded me with hungry eyes. With smooth, thick lather in his palms, he started with the curves of my hips, and spread soap over my stomach and up between my breasts.
"Tell me what you're thinking of." Seriously? While his hands were on my breasts and his thumbs were making circles around my nipples?
"Uhmmm." I closed my eyes, fighting for concentration, trying to find the proper words to say. "Why me?"
His hands paused on my shoulders. I waited for a reply. All I could hear was the rush of water. If he still didn't have his hands on me, I would have thought he left.
"Open your eyes," he finally said, his tone guttural. It was almost a command. Maybe it was. And my eyes fluttered open. His normally icy blue pupils were the shade of the ocean during a storm. Dark. Deep. Ominous. If I wasn't so turned on, I'd be scared.
Tate slipped his hands down my arms, spreading what little lather was left on them. Then he took my hands and wrapped them behind his neck. I noticed how laboured his breathing became when he plastered his front to mine, while cupping the roundness of my buttocks in his hands. He touched his forehead to mine.
"Cassidy. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever met." That couldn't be true. His ex-wife was gorgeous. I wanted to protest but he continued. "Your heart is so pure. Your smile"--he sighed, ducked his head and rubbed his lips against my wet bottom lip--"A man would die happy seeing that smile everyday. I love how you are with me. I love how you are with Maddy." He planted a soft kiss on my lips. "I can't lie to you and say I'd never felt a love like this. I have, but it wasn't the same. I think I've loved you longer than I'd ever known."
I rolled my eyes, recalling how he'd seen me in my most vulnerable and unappealingly awkward younger self. My arms and legs had seem d to grow faster than the rest of my body. I had insect bites for breasts until I turned sixteen. I didn't have curves until then too. I was lanky, mouthy, wild.
When exactly did he start noticing me enough to love me?
Tate pinched my chin with his thumb and index finger, making me lift my head, and face him. "What you are to me is more than what I can truly say, or even do, but I will try my very best to show you. Why you? I should ask why me? But I won't because I have a fragile ego." We both chuckled at that. He inhaled deeply again.
I stayed silent while he finished bathing me. Taking care of me. Rinsing my hair and running his fingers between the strands. Sliding his hands over every inch of my body, inspecting some parts so closely it brought a blush to my cheeks. Then he turned off the faucet, stepped out and held the towel out for me to wrap around my body. He took a smaller towel to dry my hair.
I watched him take a new towel and pat down his body, then he hung it and grabbed my hand. He was naked, and following him from the bathroom to his bedroom, I couldn't keep my mouth shut if I tried. I'd seen him naked a lot. But with him leading me to his bed and all I could stare at was his toned ass, it did something weird to me. Unlocking a wildness. I pounced on him, a tinny sound similar to a cat caterwauling escaped from my mouth.
My lips were on his damp neck and my hands grabbed, slid and clawed at everything. My towel opening my body up to him, covering nothing.
"Whoa. Whoa. Wait," Tate said, circling hands around my wrists as he hooked his foot around both of my legs and with little effort, switched our positions. He pinned me on the mattress with his whole body, legs, hips levelled, my arms rested over my head where he held them tight. "Relax, tiger." He snickered and I could swear my entire body flushed.
He nipped at the fat part of my bottom lip.
I moaned and tried to lift my hips off the bed, wanting to grind against him but failing.
"I want you."
He chuckled again. "Unsatiable. I want you, too. I want you always." As if to prove his point, his length hardened even more against my heat. "But we have to talk."
"No talking. I want you. I need..." I squirmed and felt his stiffness fall between my thighs. If I angled myself a little, he'd be inside me.
"Cass, please." He closed his eyes at some guttural sound I made in the back of my throat. I got mating calls down pat. "Just. Let's talk."
His words sounded like a plea.
I listened to him breathe. And his lips played with mine. Was he going to kiss me? Was he going to pull away? I waited and eventually, he opened his eyes.
"Okay. Let's talk." A few hundred emotions passed over his face, as if he had started a war with himself and knew he wouldn't win whatever he did.
Tate rolled to his back and sat up. He walked his closet and I could hear him riffling through drawers. When he returned, I pouted upon seeing him dressed in cotton pj pants, but they hung low on his hips and he was still shirtless. I was thankful for little miracles and naked chest.
With a flick of his wrists, he presented me with a white cotton tee  as he trapped my thighs between his legs. "Sit up."