Riley
F or a man who willingly went to war, Cade can be such a freaking coward. He wants me, the big jerk, it’s clear as day, written all over his stupidly handsome face. With every heated glance he sends my way, every blanket he brings me on cooler nights, every glass of water he urges me to drink, he declares there’s something here. That it’s not all in my head.
And yet every time we come close to being something more, every time we take half a step in that direction—Cade slams on the brakes. Turns to stone.
“What do you want on your pizza later?”
We’re winding along the mountain path, windows down and cool air swirling through the cab. It’s petty, but I ignore Cade’s question, staring out at the thick forest clinging to the mountainside.
“.” He sounds annoyed. He knows I heard him. “ .”
“Pesto,” I mutter. “And mozzarella.”
Cade grunts. “Sounds good.”
Yup. I scowl at two crows scrapping in the branches of a tree as we round a bend. They’re a mad whirl of black feathers and vicious-looking beaks, lunging and snapping at each other, and I wince as the bigger one lands a good peck.
“I figure we could build that bathroom cabinet this afternoon.”
The wind in my face makes tears sting in my eyes. Is this how it’s going to be between us? Torturous snippets of what we could have, then awkward, painful distance? How could I even bear that?
“Sure.”
Cade’s sigh gusts through the truck. His thumb taps against the steering wheel, and when I steal a glance at him, his jaw is set.
And it’s not fair. He’s so freaking handsome. As breathtaking as the mountains we’re driving through, and just as rugged, just as raw and beautiful and wild. With his scars and his beard, his piercing eyes and long, dark hair tied back in a knot, Cade looks like he wandered out of the wilderness.
Watching him makes me ache.
Before he turned up at the cabin, before I woke to find this strange man standing over me, I was so cold and numb inside. Back then, I desperately wanted to feel again, but now that this sharp-edged yearning has nestled inside my chest… I’m not so sure.
Maybe numb wasn’t so bad after all.
“I’m sorry about the parking lot,” Cade says quietly. It’s his third apology already.
I clear my throat and stare out of my window. “I’m not.”
It’s not a long drive, but it takes a thousand years. By the time we pull up again at the lakehouse, jumping out of the cab onto the hard dirt, I’m stiff and achy. Old before my time.
“Angel,” Cade says softly when he catches sight of my face.
I grab two bags of groceries and head inside.
* * *
What would Luis say if he saw me like this? Heart raw and bleeding for his best friend? I can picture my big brother’s face so clearly, his sticky-up hair and outraged expression, his loud voice that used to echo across the lake.
“!” He’d probably yell, loud enough that all the local campgrounds heard our business. He never did have volume control. “Don’t go batting your eyes at a soldier! I’ve told you a million times, we’re all fucked up.”
He used to say that. Made me promise I’d never fall for a man in uniform; told me he didn’t want that for me. All that worrying and waiting, left back home alone.
But Cade is out now with a fistful of medals for his trouble, and there’s no way he’s going back into service. No way.
So would Luis still be horrified?
Probably. My big brother never did like the idea of me dating, I guess ‘cause he was so much older than me. Always so overprotective.
“He wouldn’t like it.”
Cade voices my inner thoughts like I’ve been speaking out loud, not just stewing cross-legged on the deck, arguing in the privacy of my brain. We’re sitting side by side, staring out at the water, watching the red sun sink behind the treeline.
Two plates are stacked behind us, covered in pizza crumbs. And I’m full and warm and safe and calm, but my heart hurts so badly.
“You don’t know that.” I won’t pretend to misunderstand. This is too important. “We can’t know what Luis would think. We’ll never know.”
Cade grunts, but it’s a sound of disagreement. He thinks this is a done deal. That I’m forever off limits. Sanchez: his best friend’s little sister, and nothing more. Never more. And I’m so tired of that, so worn thin by wanting someone who won’t take what I’m offering, that I don’t argue anymore. I prop my chin on my knees and watch ripples spread across the lake.
“It’s not that I don’t want you, angel.” Cade’s voice is pleading. “It’s never that.”
I shrug and nod.
Whatever. Does the reason matter, if he still won’t kiss me? If he still leaves me cold and lonely at night?
The sun slips away, and vivid red streaks the sky.
“.” Cade sounds wrecked. “You look so fucking sad.”
I shrug again.
He groans, low and long.
And this constant heartbreak is fun and all, but for the first time since Cade got here, I’d rather spend the evening alone. Reading, maybe, or just bundled in blankets and staring at the cabin wall. Rubbing my thumbnail along the grooves in the wood.
My joints pop as I push to my feet. “Well.” My bright voice sounds all wrong. Super fake, but I can’t help it. “I think I’m gonna turn in. Goodnight.”
I should help wash up, should offer to start a fire, but I’m too brittle to be polite. Too close to shattering. And Cade watches me go with those glacial eyes, deep shadows on his face, and he doesn’t stop me.
He lets me walk away.
* * *
The double bed is crammed into a corner of the bedroom, with barely enough space to walk down one side to reach the door. It’s a nest, a bolthole, and I’m relieved to shut myself away and fall apart where no one can see.
I cry myself out. Sob into my pillow until my throat hurts and my eyes are gritty and red. Then I flop onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, watching the wood change color as the evening light fades away.
Stars come out. Glittering and sharp, like tiny jewels. I don’t bother closing the drapes.
Instead, I lie with one palm on my chest, feeling the steady thud, thud, thud of my heartbeat. Reassuring myself that I’m still here.
When the door creaks open, I figure I must be asleep. Already dreaming. And I know that’s the case when Cade steps into the bedroom, his silhouette as familiar to me as my own shadow.
“You never come into my room,” I mumble, voice thick from all the crying.
Cade’s sigh is soft. “I want to, though. Every night.”
The mattress cries out under his weight as Cade kneels on the bed, my world tipping to one side, and when he crawls up my body, I feel his warmth wash over my front.
“Oh my god.” The shadow stretches out above me, so wide and tall and strong. His shirt is soft under my palms, slipping over hard, toned muscles. I grip the veteran’s shoulders, his scarred neck, his upper arms. “This isn’t a dream. What are you doing here?”
Cade settles the length of his body on top of mine, my legs falling open in automatic welcome, and with his hips cradled between my thighs, his breath warm on my cheeks, this is—this is so much. Heady and perfect and so confusing.
I grip two tight handfuls of his shirt. Like I could keep him with me that way.
Cade smells like soap and wood smoke. Like fresh mountain air.
“I still don’t think Luis would like this,” he says quietly, and my heart sinks all the way down to the floor beneath the bed. But then: “Maybe if I treat you right, though—if I prove every day how much I love you—”
I lunge up, heart soaring, and seal my mouth to his. Or I try, anyway, but it’s dark and it’s my first kiss, and my lips land somewhere on Cade’s bristly chin. It’s awkward and clumsy, but Cade lets out a rough laugh, and then he ducks his head. Shows me how it’s done.
And here’s what I learn from Cade about kissing: it’s hungry and wild. It scorches my body from the inside out, and I feel it all the way to the tips of my toes.
He wants me.
This man is eating me alive.
And with each press and lick and suck and nibble, it all stokes the fire we’re building higher and higher until I’m panting for breath, my hair mussed on the pillow and my arms trembling where they’re wrapped around his neck.
“This is…” My hoarse whisper is so loud in the quiet bedroom. The only sounds are the creak of the mattress, the rustle of our clothes, our heavy, mingling breaths. An owl hoots somewhere beyond the window. “You’d better not take this back, Cade Armstrong, I swear to god.”
“I won’t.” He kisses me again, long and dirty and deep. My body’s wound so tight, I’m vibrating beneath him. A plucked string. “I couldn’t, angel. Now that I’ve got you, I’m never giving you up. Never.”
Uh-huh.
I pat his cheek and tweak his nose—just in case. Checking he’s real.
“What the—what are you doing?”
Yeah, he’s real. I bury my face in Cade’s throat, and I’m so happy I almost can’t stand it. My chest might burst. Hooking one leg around his hip, I roll my whole body against his.
And I can feel him. The thick, hard length of his cock. The one part of this man that has never, ever lied about wanting me. It’s rigid and demanding, digging into the crease of my thigh. I shuffle around until it’s lined up with my pussy, until there’s nothing stopping us but clothes, and then we clutch at each other with twin groans and start grinding harder, our bodies falling into an instinctual rhythm.
“Fuck.” Cade’s hips rock into me, working me into the mattress. “You feel so good already, . So perfect. You know how often I’ve thought about this?”
Um, I think I have some idea. Because not a single night has passed since Cade turned up at the cabin that I haven’t squirmed and panted and touched myself, thinking about this man. That I haven’t longed for this , my body humming with desire.
The room is dark, but I can make out those blue eyes in the starlight. They’re harsh and hungry.
“Take me.” I hook a second leg around Cade’s hips, opening myself fully to him. “Take me, then. I’m yours.”
And there’s not much room in this cramped bedroom; not much light to see by, either. We fumble and grunt and I accidentally catch him with an elbow. But when I finally flop back on the bed wearing nothing but a full-body blush, it’s so perfect my cheeks ache from smiling.
“Are you wet?” Cade murmurs, climbing back on top of me. He’s naked too. And all that bare, warm skin, those toned muscles and rough scars… that chest hair…
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
“Find out for yourself.”
He huffs a strained laugh, but when thick fingers trail through my slit, neither of us is joking anymore. Because I’m soaked for him, so wet and swollen and slippery, and Cade’s ragged groan makes my pussy clench down on nothing. Those fingers swoop up, teasing my clit, before he pushes one thick digit into my snug channel.
“Tight,” Cade grits out, stroking at my inner walls. Then he freezes above me. “Hang on. Are you…?”
I grab his wrist with both hands and hold him against me. Oh my god. “Don’t you dare, you big jerk. Don’t you dare, don’t you dare—”
Cade draws his finger out, and I truly might cry. But then he’s pushing deep again, rubbing at my inner walls, and my breath hitches. I melt back against the bed sheets, heart hammering.
“I’m not stopping.” His tone is soothing. Low. Like I’m a spooked wild animal or something, and I’d be offended if I didn’t need this comfort so badly. “We’re doing this, angel. But it helps that I know.”
Well, hang on a second. “I don’t want you to hold back.”
Cade’s bark of laughter makes me jump. “I won’t, . I probably should, but I don’t have it in me. I want you so fucking badly. You think when I finally get in here, I’m gonna be able to slow down? You think once you’re wrapped around my cock, I’ll go easy? I don’t think so.”
Good. Yeah. That’s what I want.
All of Cade. His care and his lust and his possessiveness.
“We need to get you ready, though, because I’m not taking any chances. You’re not leaving this bed in pain. You’re gonna leave fuck-drunk, wanting me again and again, or I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”
My turn for a strangled laugh. Does he not feel how slick and swollen I am? How my body keeps sucking his finger inside? How much freaking readier could I be?
“Gonna taste you.” The bed creaks, and Cade’s finger draws out. I let out a whimper, my body clutching at sudden emptiness, but then he’s moving down me, shuffling down the bed. “Fuck. I’ve dreamed of this. Bet you taste so sweet.”
Now that is a weighty expectation to put on a girl, because I am one hundred percent sure that I don’t taste like literal candy down there. But when Cade’s hot breath mists over my clit, when he spreads my pussy with two fingers and gives a long, slow lick, he lets out a groan like he’s found the world’s best dessert.
“God, .” Each hot lick steals my breath; makes my toes curl and my back arch. “You taste so good. So fucking good.”
If he says so. Me, I’m happy to plunge my hands into his dark hair, to rock my hips up and rub myself all over his face.
Soft, bristly beard tickles my inner thighs. My folds.
Hard teeth scrape over my clit.
“Oh!” I bow up off the mattress, and it’s even worse when Cade pushes two fingers inside me, when he starts pumping and licking at the same time. “Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god.”
“Let go, angel.” His words vibrate against my pussy. “Show me how pretty you are when you come.”
My eyes slam shut, heat flooding my body, and I come with a tiny squeak between gritted teeth. I’m held rigid, muscles shuddering, breath held, until finally I collapse back against the bed sheets.
Cade climbs along my body; he pushes my legs wide. He’s urgent, almost rough with his actions, his breaths heavy, and I grin giddily up at the stars.
When my brother’s best friend thrusts deep inside me, the stretch of it steals all my air. But I’m gooey and warm and pliant from the way he licked me, and I moan in approval as he hitches my legs around his waist.
“Hold on,” Cade grits out, shoving deeper. Deeper.
Then he rides me into a breathless, sweaty puddle.