Page 75 of Casita Casanova
When she licks her lips again, I rise to my feet and grip her chin, holding her tightly so I can taste her mouth. I pump my fingers with faster, firmer strokes, and she whimpers into our kiss.
“What the fuck is this?”
I jump at the sound of a man’s voice and turn around quickly, blocking Maryn with my body.
“Oh my God,” she murmurs behind me.
I glance over my shoulder and her eyes are wide, a look in them I haven’t seen since I’ve known her. A look that tells me exactly who this intruder is. Distress and humiliation have replaced the freedom and pleasure I’d just been admiring in those big brown eyes.
And that pisses me right the fuck off.
“Who the hell are you?”
Returning my attention to the man standing in the open back door, I tilt my head, then give the guy a good once over, clocking my competition.
With a chuckle, because who the fuck would ever bemycompetition, I step toward him and extend my left hand. I’m right-handed, but for this guy, that’s not tonight’s dominant hand.
His eyes flick to my fingers, slick with his ex-wife’s arousal.
“Oh, shit. Sorry, man.” I bring them to my lips and suck them dry, then reach my hand out again. “I’m Cas. And you are?”
“Maryn,” he roars, his eyes bulging out of his head. He tries to step past me, but I quickly sidestep and block him.
“She’s a bit busy right now.”
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but—”
“Ah, you must not have been listening. Don’t feel bad. She’s pretty distracting.”I’ve been distracted all damn week.“I’m Cas.” Straightening my shoulders and standing taller, I thrust my hand toward him again. “And you are?” Not that I don’t already know.
“I want to speak to my wife.”
“Your wife?” I laugh, looking around the room. “I don’t think she’s here. It’s just me and Maryn.” I shrug casually to piss the guy off.
Face tight with indignation, he gives me a good once over.
Yeah, size me up, motherfucker.
I was raised among the world’s biggest sharks, the beasts of the financial world. The people who destroy lives to fleece their own pockets without even blinking. It’s a no holds barred, take no prisoners world where I come from.
I’m a fucking Westcott; I eat entire failing companies for breakfast.
Middle-Aged Mark here doesn’t hold a fucking candle to me.
And the moment he realizes that, I can see it in his eyes. I see it in boardrooms all the time.
Defeat.
He’s about two-hundred pounds and not an ounce of lean muscle on him. Rotund. Beer paunch from too many Budweisers beside the grill. He’s balding, but trying to hide it with a sweet combover. If bad dad jokes were an actual person, this would be him.
The look in his eyes though, that part’s amusing. He might be about to blow his lid.
“Maryn.”
I glance over my shoulder to assess that look in her eyes. When they meet mine, a ripple of energy races through my body and tightens my hands into fists.
He cranes his neck, but I move to block him again.
“You lost the privilege to see that woman naked.” And I’m about to revoke his right to even say her fucking name.
