Cassidy Kincaid Mysteries Box Set

trembled as his mouth kissed up her inner thigh, his fingers feathering alongside, caressing. His tongue flicked against her, and she closed her eyes. Her hips arched into him, and everything fell away—her thoughts, her loneliness, her fear—and she gave into the sensation building inside her. The silky feel of his hair in her hands somehow heightened her desire and she began to cry out as the pulses of pleasure rocked through her. With her legs quivering, he kissed his way back up her body, taking his time. The blood racing around in her body slowed and the room returned to focus. Mel was kissing her softly behind the ear and holding her close—his erection hard against her body, causing a craving so powerful she felt dizzy. They lowered onto the bed, her breathing fast, and her body reaching for his. Mel shifted and slowly, their bodies connected. A rush of pleasure shot through her, heating her blood all the way down to her toes. Cassidy gasped in the darkness as the sensation spread through her body. It felt so good to give in, to receive this gift of pleasure because hiding behind it was the pain of everything she had lost. All she had was this moment of joy, so she moved with Mel’s body and focused on feeling everything moment by moment: his lips on her breast, his breaths in time with hers, his soft hand caressing her face. Her climax rose from the tops of her thighs to her belly and exploded inside her like a bright, peaceful wave.
Afterward, they lay there together, with her hand draped across his shoulder and her head on his chest. His fingers caressed her back softly. She didn’t want to ask him to stay—the words sounded desperate in her mind—but he made no motion to go, so she relaxed and listened to his breathing grow deeper, until her eyes felt heavy. She drifted off, still tucked into his embrace.
Cassidy woke slowly, the details of the day before returning to her in pieces. She was both relieved and apprehensive that Mel, breathing softly, was still there. After being alone for a year, this new landscape was not familiar. She had no roadmap for navigating sleepovers with near-strangers. Her heart ached for the life she no longer had: Saturday mornings reading the paper alongside Pete, the silence broken only by slurps of coffee, but their bodies so close that she could feel his warmth. Was it something about Costa Rica that had made her so bold—pura vida and all that? Or had seeing other couples enjoying time alone in a beautiful place made her desperate to harvest some of that happiness too?
First, sweet Héctor, she thought with a rush of tenderness. Now Mel. Cassidy’s grief counselor had encouraged her to take more risks. Well, I guess I’m a good listener.
Light was filling in the cracks of the slatted blinds, and the frosted glass door was lit by a soft glow. Cassidy realized that she had slept with her contact lenses in, and now her irritated eyes wouldn’t focus. The numbers on the clock danced in a red blur.
Mel rolled over and tucked his arm around her middle, emitting a low sigh that to her ears, sounded like a purr.
“Buenas días, preciosa,” he said, kissing her temple.
Cassidy did not feel gorgeous, not in the least. She laughed and pulled his arm tighter around her.
“Let’s stay in bed all day,” Mel said, stroking her arm.
“What about the bar?” Cassidy asked.
“Screw the bar,” he said. She peeked at his face and saw that his eyes were still closed.
Then he yawned loudly. Cassidy rolled out of bed. “I need a shower.”
“Can I help?” he asked, propping himself up on an elbow.
Cassidy felt suddenly awkward, even though she knew she shouldn’t, not after what they had shared the night before.
Mel noticed, and his eyes changing from playful to gentle. “You want me to go?” he asked.
“No,” Cassidy said, a little too quickly. “Would you wait . . . a little longer?”
Mel gave her a nod.
He had dressed in his khakis and linen shirt when Cassidy returned. They stood by the door in a long embrace. He kissed her once, a gentle kiss that made her chest ache for more. The thought made her feel guilty. Wasn’t it wrong for her to be acting this way? If Pete could look down on her from somewhere, would he be disappointed in her, or proud of her for trying to find happiness without him?
“I found this,” Mel said, picking up a piece of paper from the top of dresser.
Cassidy vaguely remembered ignoring the scrap of paper on the floor the night before.
It was a note from Bruce:
You’re in. Meet at Bambu in
Playa del Coco at noon.
“You going?” Mel asked. Did she imagine the look of concern in his eyes?
Cassidy shrugged. “I kind of have to,” she replied.
“San Juan is a little rough,” he said.
Cassidy looked into his face again, wondering if she was stepping over some kind of invisible threshold by giving him permission to worry about her. “I’ll be okay.”
“Somehow I know you will be,” he said with a small smile. “Send me picture of you charging más grande olas.”
“Okay,” she said, then realized that she didn’t even know his last name.
Mel gave her one last kiss, and then he stepped from her room and closed the door.

Eight
Thankfully, the trip started with cocktails. Cassidy had woken early but instead chose to use her last few hours of Wi-Fi to hammer away at her projects. She “chatted” with her advisor about teaching a section of his upcoming class and writing another paper he had in mind for her, and emailed her brother Quinn about her change of plans. Ever since their father passed away when they were teens, they had established a kind of pact to “be each other’s person.” Quinn ran a bar in San Francisco and was always training for some marathon or other, so kept weird hours.