The Stranger

Chapter 8 - Cassandra

I was wearing his white shirt, nothing beneath it, as he walked through the hotel door, suitcase in hand. He saw me and didn't waste a second. His eyes darkened, that look of raw, relentless possession sweeping over me, and I felt a shiver run through my entire body. He didn't speak, didn't smile—just closed the distance and cupped my throat, kissing me with a fierce hunger. Our tongues tangled, his mouth hot and consuming, and I wanted to drown in him. He tasted like salt and smoke, and I clung to him as he loosened his grip, his fingers trailing down to tease one nipple, then slipping lower, gliding beneath his shirt until his hand was between my thighs, just grazing me.

"Finger me, please... Sir," I whispered, aching, desperate—

"Cassie? Are you with me?" Mum's voice jolted me back, pulling me out of the fantasy.

"Yes, Mum... sorry." I sat up straighter, pushing down the lingering flush of desire, willing my pulse to slow. "I was just... thinking about work," I said, hoping the explanation sounded casual enough.

Mum gave me one of her sympathetic looks and handed me a cup of tea. "Cassie, you work too much," she said, the lecture beginning before I could prepare for it. "How are you ever going to meet a nice man if you're always in that office?"

I shrugged, bracing myself. "Mum, I'm really not looking for a relationship right now. Especially after what happened with John."

Her eyes softened, a familiar pity shading her face. John. My ex from school. We'd had an on-again, off-again relationship, the kind that wore you down until you hardly recognised yourself. Things had gone south fast when I'd asked for a break to focus on my studies. He'd lost it, going completely obsessive. Since then, I'd kept men at a safe, careful distance.

Mum sighed. "John was just a kid, honey. You're a woman now, and you deserve someone who'll be there for you. When was the last time you even—"

"Mum!" I cut her off, horrified. My sex life (or lack thereof) wasn't a topic I was about to discuss over tea and biscuits. But the mention of it only brought Alex to mind, and I felt a fresh wave of longing twist through me.

"I'm only saying, darling, don't let it pass you by." Her voice softened, her eyes glistening slightly. "One day, you'll want someone to share your life with, and I'd hate to see you end up alone..."

She missed Dad. She'd been alone ever since he died five years ago, and she seemed to think my life should fill the gap hers now held. I reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "I'll think about it, Mum. I promise."

The afternoon wore on in fits of small talk—her new lawn bowling group, a recipe she was trying that night, a recent neighbour's gossip. As she listened to me describe work, her gaze filled with admiration. I knew she was proud, even if she thought my job was slowly consuming me. Just as she was explaining the finer points of her team's recent victory, my phone buzzed. A text from Lisa.

OMG! Cass... I'll tell you everything about Madrid when I'm back on Monday! ;) Let's just say, I'm a bit sore right now... if you know what I mean.

I smiled, typing a quick reply. Haha. I can't wait.

Lisa was gorgeous and unapologetically bold, living the kind of life that made her stories sound like scenes from some glamorous movie. Weekends were reserved for her latest "sexcapades," and I could only imagine the kind of attention she was getting in Spain. She loved the thrill of a one-night encounter with someone she'd never have to see again. If I were in Madrid, though, I knew exactly where I'd be—wrapped up in Alex, his hands, his mouth, his body. Whatever business he was handling would have to wait.

Then it hit me. Alex had sent Lisa to Madrid. And now he was in Madrid. The entire scenario rearranged itself in my mind, painfully clear. He'd sent her off, then come to London, fucked me, and then... gone to Madrid.

The pieces clicked together, and I felt a hard, unpleasant knot form in my chest. My stomach dropped, my breath catching as jealousy, anger, and humiliation twisted through me in a rush. That entire night, those words, his promises... all of it faded, and I could see it for what it was—a distraction, a passing thrill. I'd been nothing more than one night in a luxury suite.

Mum was still talking, her words a distant murmur in my ear. I forced myself to look at her, nodding, trying to focus on her, but the room felt smaller, closing in. A chill had settled over me, and any thrill I'd felt from the memory of him was replaced by a hollow ache.

So, that was it. Alex Dominguez was out there, charming, smooth, moving from one woman to the next without a backward glance. I'd been just another notch, another city on his way to wherever he pleased. The thought of him with Lisa made me feel nauseous. My weekend was officially ruined.