Chapter 10
Juliette
The heat from his thigh against mine sent me into a spiral. I shoved his leg, hoping he’d get the hint and move over. Of course, his fat head either didn’t register it—or flat-out refused. My money was on the latter.
When I glanced at Cathryn, she was watching us with a speculative gleam in her eyes.
I forced myself to smile sweetly at him.
“It’s lovely to see you again, Officer Kade.”
That threw him. His brow twitched, just enough to show I’d confused him—and for a blissful second, he was actually silent.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you, Ms Morgan,” he said, his gaze trailing over me with unfiltered hunger.
His eyes settled on my breasts, and I smacked him under the table. He caught my wrist.
His hand was warm and strong, covering mine and pressing it firmly against his thigh—denim-clad and solid.
The pressure. The heat. I swallowed hard as warmth began to pool low in my belly.
My smile wobbled slightly as I flicked my gaze back to Cathryn. She was sucking her drink through her straw, but I could see the cogs turning behind her eyes.
She suddenly pointed a finger across the table.
“You two make a cute couple.”
I groaned and tried to snatch my hand back, but his grip tightened.
“Yes, I agree,” Kade said easily.
I gasped. “No, we don’t.”
“She’s in denial,” he added.
Cathryn nearly choked on her drink as she burst out laughing.
He released my hand, and I sighed in relief—only for that relief to vanish the moment his hand landed on my knee.
My smile grew strained as Cathryn launched into a list of all the reasons we apparently looked adorable together.
Meanwhile, his hand inched higher.
I grabbed my drink, pretending to sip, hoping the ice-cold liquid would douse the fire building inside me.
He paused.
Then his thumb began to stroke slow, lazy circles against my outer thigh.
“Oh, something’s come up—Sam can’t drop you off after all,” Cathryn said suddenly, far too casually. “Kade, would you mind seeing Juliette home?”
She was a terrible actress.
I glared at her, eyes promising vengeance. She smiled sweetly and ignored me.
So much for women sticking together.
“Of course I will,” Kade said smoothly, his voice practically purring.
Cathryn sniggered and grabbed her purse, slipping out of the booth.
As she hugged me goodbye, she leaned in to whisper:
“Remember what I said about Sam.” Her grin widened. “You’re welcome.”
If only she knew I’d already sampled the goods.
And the goods had wrecked my life.
I moved to slide into the booth, desperate to put distance between us, but the second I turned, Kade caught my wrist.
The music shifted. Slow and heavy. Like temptation in audio form.
He didn’t say a word—just pulled me with him, away from the table, out into the middle of the bar.
“What are you doing?” I snapped, trying to twist away.
His grip was firm. Not bruising, not rough… but commanding.
“We’re dancing,” he said, voice low—like he wasn’t giving me a choice.
I dug my heels in, but he just kept walking, tugging me through the crowd until the press of people surrounded us. Watching us.
“Kade—”
“You look too damn good to be sitting down.”
I opened my mouth to protest again, but then he pulled me against him, one hand on my lower back, the other curling around mine.
The contact was electric. His palm was hot through the thin fabric of my dress, his body solid against mine. My heart hammered once. Twice. Then steadied—to match the slow thrum of the bass in the song.
“You don’t get to touch me,” I whispered. It wasn’t convincing. Not even to me.
“That’s cute,” he said, leaning down until his lips grazed the shell of my ear. “But you didn’t say no the first time.”
I stiffened in his arms.
“That was a mistake,” I hissed.
“Sure it was,” he murmured. “Then why are you still here? Why are your fingers trembling in mine?”
I hated him.
I hated how steady he was. How grounded. How easily he dismantled every wall I tried to put up just by looking at me like that.
Like I was already his.
“I said I wanted to be left alone.”
“And I said no.” His thumb brushed just beneath my ribs. “You think you’re still in charge, little mama?”
I swallowed hard.
Around us, couples swayed to the music, the bar fading into a blur of low voices and clinking glasses. But all I felt was him. His chest brushing mine with each slow movement. His breath at my ear. The steel trap of his body keeping me locked in place.
“You don’t get to play games with me,” I whispered.
He smiled, slow and dark. “This isn’t a game. I don’t play where I plan to keep.”
My stomach flipped.
He pulled me closer, dragging my hips against his, and I felt it—hard, thick, undeniable.
My breath caught. Heat surged low in my belly.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered.
“I go where you go.”
“You’re insane.”
“And you’re wet.”
I gasped and tried to jerk away, but his grip tightened—not painful, but enough to remind me who was leading.
“Now,” he said, voice a low promise. “You going to keep pretending you don’t want this, or are you finally going to admit what your body’s already told me?”
“Oh, and if Nathan comes near you again,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along my temple, “he’ll find himself in hospital. Roads can be dangerous.”
My forehead thudded against his chest.
This man was out of control.
?? ?? ??
I ignored him the entire drive home.
He’d made damn sure everyone in that bar saw us together. Every eye. Every whisper. Every lingering look.
My good standing as the newcomer in town—tarnished by his every smug smile, every possessive touch.
“I’ve decided,” he said, tapping the steering wheel with one hand, “I like my woman silent.”
I growled and turned to face the window.
“Mm.” His tone dropped lower. “Those little sounds are acceptable, though.”
I clenched my jaw. I wasn’t going to rise to the bait.
“It reminds me of that night,” he added as he turned into my apartment lot. “The night we made our baby.”
“There is no baby,” I snapped, eyes locked on him.
“That’s just the hormones talking.”
He chuckled.