Grump’s City Girl (Boots and Heels #2)

24. Cassie

Chapter 24

Cassie

F ingers lifted to cup my face, and I wasn't sure what I'd find. But the second I locked gazes with those deep blue eyes, I saw it. I saw his hunger, need, and possessiveness in their depths.

He needed this as much as I did, and the longer I stared into his eyes, the more the ache between my legs intensified. His eyes dropped lower, down to my mouth.

“Yes, Beau.” I breathed.

Two words, that was all it took. Beau closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, his mouth closing over my nipple again, but this time, his teeth raked over the skin just hard enough to make me jolt before suckling on me.

The heat of his mouth soothed the soft hurt, and his hips started moving again, slow and sure like a tide at moonlight, deep and thick inside me. “God, your pussy is so tight.”

He inched deeper, all the way to the hilt. I gasped again, barely adjusting to the thickness before he withdrew again and then pushed back in. My hips rocked in time with the motion, the sensations flowing and doubling back over every nerve ending. His thrusts were like a drum, in time with my pulse.

More, more, more!

He shifted to pin both hands with one large palm; the other hand traced over the curve of my hip and slid down between my thighs. “Relax,” he breathed on his next thrust and emphasized his point. On the next thrust, I cried out, back arching up off the bed as my body stretched to accommodate him.

When the base of his cock collided with my clit, it sent gorgeous waves of pleasure coursing through my body. And he was so deep. Deeper than anyone had ever been inside me.

I felt totally unable to think as his thickness filled me up completely, stretching out my pussy, and thrusting into those most secret, tender spots that caused mini explosions of bliss with every stroke.

I moaned as he played with me, moving me up and down, not penetrating me, making me dizzy with lust, and I felt the familiar tingling and rippling building in my core.

“Moan for me, baby,” Beau whispered as my body shook and shivered with pleasure.

He took his time, his control supreme, his movements slow and deep, almost tantric. Beau’s lovemaking was an ethereal experience, and I reveled in the emotional wave of it. He kissed me deeply then, thrusting with slow, fluid movements, and I felt almost overcome by the profound gesture.

He made love to me tenderly while he held me captive. It was the best of all worlds, and for the first time, I felt utterly… complete.

Beau’s thumb found my clit, circled against the hypersensitive nerves there, gently at first then pressing a little more firmly with each rotation. I panted and struggled to make my lips work, to make my brain formulate words.

“Please,” I managed, breathy and strangled.

His eyes flashed, half amusement and half barely contained hunger. “Please, what?” My eyes met his.

“Make me come out of my mind, Beau.” I didn’t have to ask twice.

It seemed to go on endlessly, his cock sliding in and out of me, straining me to my brink, even as he lowered his body until he was flush with me, stomachs pressed together, chests touching, my nipples digging into his pecs. I’d never felt so full in my life.

My body clenched around him, and he groaned softly, almost tenderly.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured. He turned and caught my eye, just for a split second. “All woman… all fucking mine ."

He kissed the side of my neck, nipped at the tender spot under my ear, traced it up to my jaw, and then slanted his lips over mine. When he started to withdraw, I sunk my nails into his shoulders in protest, but I shouldn’t have worried. With a husky chuckle, he fucked into me again a split second later, harder this time, faster.

“Oh god,” I groaned.

“Thanks, beautiful, but it’s just me,” he bit my earlobe.

“Beau…”

He started to move faster then, his hips crashing against mine, driving into me again, again and again. At the same time, his free hand slid between us, his thumb expertly finding my clit again.

There was nothing but him, me… and us at this moment. He withdrew and thrust back inside me. Over and over. This man must be some kind of expert, his thumb rubbing just right, sending sparks bursting behind my eyelids.

The tiniest amount of pressure made my hips buck wildly, my walls fisting his shaft. “Come for me, Cassie.” He was hot against my ear. His thumb circled my clit, and fuck, the bedroom faded around us. “Come, now .”

My body obeyed.

The orgasm blasted through me with all the force of a nuclear bomb, startling me with its ferocity. I cried out as waves of pleasure sucked me under, and my pussy practically spasmed around his length. Beau’s hand slid away. He let go of my wrists, too, bracing himself on the bed as he pounded into me hard and fast.

I arched up to meet him, my hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging in. My legs hooked around his waist, thighs crushing his hips between.

He slid both hands over my legs, unhooking them, and pressed my knees to my chest. With the angle changed, he had deep access, taking my body with forceful abandon, chasing that high.

I moaned and let my head fall back as bliss wracked through me. Our breaths came in hard pants, the head of his cock gliding over that sensitive spot on my front wall, making me cry out again.

“I’m—I’m going to come again…” I managed.

“Do it.”

Electricity exploded through my veins, and I jolted as though electrocuted. The force made my pussy spasm, clenching and releasing hard in fast succession. I gripped his shoulders and screamed. Light and heat and sweet, sweet bliss soon followed, but Beau lost all sense of control then.

He fucked me harder, faster—deeper, and just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he came violently, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I felt the swell of his cock as he came, and on instinct, I clenched around him, milking every last drop from him.

When the heat finally began to fade, Beau slid out of me, both of us dripping wet. He collapsed beside me, drenched in sweat, the room thick with the smell of sweat and sex and cologne.

Beau hooked an arm around my waist and dragged my boneless body right onto him, and I laid my head right over his heart and listened to it racing.

“I meant what I said,” Beau’s voice was faint as I drifted off. “You’re mine.”

My ringing cell phone woke us up and jolted me half awake. I reached for it blindly, almost tilting the phone off the nightstand. Luckily, I grabbed it and sat up, bringing the sheet with me. Seeing the caller ID, I swiped it open.

“Dad?” I muffled a yawn before dropping it to my lap and pressing speaker. “What is it?”

“Vigo,” Dad said gruffly. “It turns out he is not hiding at all. The fucker is in his condo in Manhattan, claiming his innocence in this matter.”

“What?” I blurted, wide awake now. It was as if a bucket of icy water had been upended over my head. “How the f—hell can he say he is innocent? I heard him on Beau’s phone. Dad, I know his voice.”

“That’s the thing,” Dad said. “He said he did make the call, but he does not know who or what is behind it. He is being blackmailed. Cassie, someone is pulling his strings as he is yanking yours.”

“How is that possible?” I gripped the sheet and added, “Vigo is nobody’s lap dog.”

“I can’t tell. He won't tell me or the men I have barricading his condo anything no matter how—” There was a fumble from the other end as if he had dropped the cell, but then we heard the scrape of cloth through the speakers. It seemed that he had pressed it to his shoulder.

“You’re sure about that?” Dad’s voice was muffled. When he came back on the line, he said, “It seems Vigo is willing to talk to you, but only you.”

“That ain’t going to fucking happen. Not on my watch,” Beau growled.

My lips pressed tight before I replied, “You’re telling me he doesn’t know who is bossing him around, and he expects me to believe it? Is he insane to think I would buy that load of crap? I’ll be the first to admit I was an idiot believing he loved me and was faithful, but this? No. Vigo pulls people's strings, Dad; he doesn’t get pulled.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Cassie,” Dad sounded aggravated and beyond pissed. “But if he is asking for you, maybe he’ll tell you.”

“Text me the address,” I eventually said. “But tell Vigo that I am not coming alone. If he wants to talk to me, he is going to talk to me and Beau.”

Dad was silent for a telling moment. “This Beau… are you two…”

“It’s…” I paused. “…complicated. But that’s down the road, Dad. Let's focus on what is going on now.”

“I’ll get Hannah to send the details over,” Dad said. “Give me something I can use to bury this asshole.”

“We’ll probably get there first,” Beau nodded while slipping from the bed. “We’re going to meet that smarmy prick and get some answers from him. And we’re not leaving until we do.”

When I dropped the cell, I rubbed my eyes. “Plans have changed, Beau. We don’t have time to go to Montana; we need to find the nearest airport and get to New York… by this evening.”

I was dead tired after the connecting flight from Riverton Airport to Denver and from there to LaGuardia. It had taken seven hours overall, and we rode into Manhattan jetlagged like hell, but a nervous energy vibrated under my skin, keeping me wide awake.

Vigo's condo was on 77 7th Ave, at the crossroads of Chelsea and the West Village on the top floor. When we got to the fifteenth floor, I saw two burly guards who were clearly my dad’s guys guarding his door.

One of them tapped his earpiece, listened, then nodded, “Clear. Welcome, Miss Carrington. Mr. Dupont is waiting for you… and your guest.”

I shot a look at Beau, wondering if he had recognized the name, but then looked forward again and nodded, “Thank you.”

Heading inside, I padded over the deep carpet to the impressive open living room, and to the side, I spotted an open kitchen with marble countertops.

I knew condos like these; I’ve been in a couple before. I bet they had an office with a dry bar packed with Jacques Selosse Grande Cru and a bedroom with a king-sized bed and a marble en-suite. I didn’t care to examine the room closer—I had to get to Vigo.

The fucker walked out of the room down the hall in a sleek black robe with probably nothing else under it, swirling a glass of rich red wine. His hair was bed-tousled, cheeks clean-shaven, and I had the urge to make them red with a blistering slap.

“Ah, my erstwhile girlfriend has returned,” he said smugly while looking at Beau. “And has brought her bulldog with her.”

“You motherfucker—” Beau stepped forward, but I stopped him by holding an arm out.

“Don’t, Beau, let me get through to him first,” I said. When he stepped away, seething, I turned to Vigo. “So, you didn’t go to sell that fucking video of us because you wanted to?”

“No,” he sat on the cream couch and sipped his drink. “I wouldn’t have ever done it on my own, but some fucker hacked my phone and downloaded the vid, then ordered me to go and sell it to the nearest newspaper.”

“What?” I blurted. “Who is this person?”

“The fuck if I know,” Vigo shrugged. “All I know is if I did as he asked, he would not release the dirt he has on me.”

“What dirt?” I asked, clenching my fist. “What the fuck is happening, Vigo? You cannot be such a selfish asshole that you would stab me in the back to save your own skin!”

His lips twisted. “When I was caught buying cocaine from a back alley dealer, yes, I can, especially since I am not technically the diplomat… I just have my aunt’s credentials. If I go down, she goes down with me.”

“You have immunity ,” I shouted, “Our courts cannot convict you.”

“But the ones in France can…” he dropped the glass on the coffee table. “Don’t you get it? Do you? I am ousted with a tarnished name; my aunt goes with me, and the shit hits the fan. And that is the easiest option. If France waives our immunity and it’s found out, I’ll be in jail for… Jesu , almost twenty years.”

“How much coke were you buying?” I asked.

“Two kilos,” he said, then added, “And some meth and Oxy.”

“Are you stupid?” I shot back. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” he replied, “I thought I was untouchable, that I had it all in the bag, that I could get away with murder and nothing would happen. Isn’t that what those of the ten percent do?”

“One percent,” I clarified, rubbing my face. “I still don’t get it; who the hell was this random man who contacted you out of nowhere? Didn’t he say anything? Tell you why he wanted to destroy me?”

“I don’t know, Cherie . He didn’t leave a calling card or a note.” Vigo said indolently. “No name, address, email, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, or a pseudonym?—”

Beau grabbed Vigo by the lapels, not caring that he had caused the glass to tumble from Vigo’s hand, and it stained the white carpet in a bloody streak. With a slam, Beau had Vigo up against a wall and shoved him harder. “Stop playing games, you sonofabitch… who did it?”

“I don’t know,” Vigo said oddly calmly. “When he called me, there was no ID, and he used a voice mixer. My men could not find where the call came from because he had the signal bouncing from Dubai to Moscow and the Bahamas.” Vigo turned to me. “ Pour l’amour de Dieu , call off your guard dog, Cassandra.”

I wanted Beau to punch him, blacken his eye, dislocate his jaw, but I couldn’t. “Let him down, Beau.”

He didn’t like the idea—the muscle jumping in his jaw told me as much—but he did it anyway, and Vigo staggered a little before gaining his equilibrium. “Now, look at what you’ve done,” he huffed. “Wasted all that wine. That was the last of a nine-hundred-dollar bottle, you oaf.”

“You’re drinking peasant wine?” I asked, “What happened to the Leroy Chambertin Grand Cru or the Egon Muller Scharzhofberger?”

“I am on a budget,” he wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something foul. “I detest it, but what can I do? Until I rebuild my income, I will stay with it. Hideous thing, budget.”

I began to pace. “Do you have any records of where you traced the call from? Any printed material, on the cloud, maybe?”

“I doubt it,” Vigo said. “If he made sure to disguise his call location and his voice, I am sure he took steps to remove all records of him overall.”

“He said nothing then?” My heart dropped to my feet. “Other than ordering you to try and shame me, he didn’t do anything else? I guess we’re done here, Beau.”

I turned and headed to the door when Vigo taunted, “I never took you for the type to be slumming with the help, Cassandra. Isn’t it beneath you? Surely, he smells like dirt and cow shit every time he mounts you.”

Beau’s right hook sent Vigo flying into the wall, barely escaping crashing into a glass cabinet or tripping over the five-thousand-dollar coffee table. Grabbing him again, Beau yanked him up from the floor and growled, “Say that shit again, I dare you.”

“Beau.” He half-turned, my voice broke through the rage pounding in his ears. “Let him go. He is not worth it.”

The tick jumped in Beau’s jaw again, but he dropped Vigo like a trash bag into the dumpster. As he left to meet me at the door, Vigo coughed and sat up. “You know, there was one last thing that mysterious man said that I don’t understand, but you will probably.”

I pivoted and stared at him, “What did he say?”

Getting up and wiping his busted lip, Vigo said, “ I’m tired of living in the shadows. This time, your family will feel what it means to be invisible .”

His words hit me like bullets. What the hell did that mean? “He said that?”

“Word for word,” Vigo said, rubbing his jaw. “ Merdé , this hurts. When I get out of this, I will be suing you.”

“Not if I tell the cops about your drugs first,” I shot back. “Be glad that’s not all that hurts, you fucking asshole. If I were you, I’d have Beau break your face in…” I told him before spinning on my heel and walking away, plucking my cellphone out again. “We need to get to Helena tonight.”

Beau jogged up to me, grabbed my arm, spun me around, and I barely saw him through the haze of red coloring my eyes. “Cassie. Stop, stop, please. Take a breath.”

I sucked in a breath and let it out. “That fucking bastard. He threw me under the bus to save his own sorry skin. I-I—” I spun around and screamed, not caring that I looked like a lunatic. “I want to… fucking claw his eyes out.”

Big hands grabbed my shoulders, and Beau forced me to look into his eyes. “Listen, Cassie, I know it’s hard, but we will deal with that bastard when we’re done with this.”

I breathed hard, “I feel?—”

“Like you’ve got five knives in your back,” Beau replied. “I know, believe me, you’ve been there to know how bad I felt with my own family. Betrayal might feel worse when it comes from your blood, but betrayal is betrayal, and it stings like hell. Let me help you pull those blades out of your back.”

I saw the truth in his eyes and heard it in his voice. My knees gave out from under me, and I sagged into Beau’s arms and held onto him for dear life.