Let’s Get It On
let’s get it on
. . .
Ellie
Apparently, “setting the sheets on fire” meant sitting in bed while Cade worked on his laptop and I lectured my cat on manners.
Whiskey had gathered his own little hoard of items since coming aboard, and he’d stashed all of them under his velvet pillow. Four colorful drink umbrellas, two hair ties, a small rope I really hoped wasn’t from something important, and the M key from Cade’s keyboard.
“What did I say about stealing?” I whispered to the furry thief, lifting him to eye level. Whiskey let his hind legs hang down and peered back at me, unimpressed with my lecture. “It’s wrong, and I didn’t raise you to be a crook.”
Even if he did appear to have a knack for it.
Cade looked up from reattaching the M key to his laptop. “Are you talking to the cat again?”
I plopped onto the bed with a sigh, settling Whiskey in my lap. “He’s not usually this rebellious. I think he’s acting out because he doesn’t know my relationship with you is fake.”
Cade’s brows drew together. “And that… upsets him?”
“He’s very territorial,” I explained, recalling how Whiskey had once peed on my bed the first time a guy stayed over. I frowned. “Or it could be separation anxiety. Maybe I should spend more time with him in the cabin.”
“That’ll raise too many questions,” Cade dismissed. “You need to be seen doing the activities.”
I sighed, and Whiskey wiggled free before jumping off my lap. He went off to play with his newest obsession—the sex position die Dr. Lovejoy had given us. I let him have his fun, since it wasn’t like Cade and I would be putting it to use.
Grabbing my crochet hook and red yarn, I settled in next to Cade and quickly got to work crocheting a new animal friend for Whiskey. My strategy of spoiling him with so many toys that he didn’t feel the need to steal hadn’t worked so far, but it couldn’t hurt to keep trying.
It was a peaceful and domestic night in, until Whiskey jumped onto the bed with his die and swatted it right between me and Cade.
Cade took his eyes off his screen at the same time I glanced at the position the die had landed on—reverse cowgirl—and my entire face erupted into flames.
“Oh.” I grabbed the die and stuck it in the drawer of my nightstand. “That’s enough of that. Want a new toy, Whiskey? Give me one sec.”
My tongue poked out while I focused. I crocheted the last bit and fastened off the end faster than I’d ever done before—then scooped Whiskey off the bed and carried him to the sitting room.
With a small flourish, I presented the tiny finished orange crab.
Okay, maybe not completely finished. There hadn’t been time to give him a second claw, but I liked to think it added character.
Whiskey eyed the one-clawed crab with interest before swatting him out of my hand and taking off after his new prey.
“Good boy,” I whispered with a sigh of relief, dusting off my hands. He was officially distracted from the die.
But just to be safe, I hid the rest of Dr. Lovejoy’s goodie bag in the closet to keep Whiskey from getting any ideas.
Cade wisely didn’t say anything about the red die when I returned to bed, but I froze instead of climbing into my side.
An extra chocolate lay next to mine on my pillow.
I eyed Cade’s side of the bed, where he leaned against the headboard with his pillow propped behind him. There was no sign of a chocolate wrapper anywhere near him.
“You gave me your chocolate?” I asked him, stating the obvious.
His eyes narrowed but didn’t look away from the screen. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
A slow smile pulled at my lips, until it grew big enough to make my cheeks hurt. “What do you mean? It’s a very big deal.”
“Just eat it.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I unwrapped both treats and popped them into my mouth, then skipped off to the closet to change into my pajamas. I chose lightweight purple cotton pants with a matching shirt this time, since my unicorn onesie had already broken the ice.
After brushing my teeth, I settled back in bed and started crocheting a new animal buddy for Sadie’s baby. Nico didn’t have a unicorn yet.
Cade and I worked side by side while Whiskey played with his little crab. The silence was comfortable, but it also meant every little noise jumped out at me.
The soft tapping of Cade’s keyboard.
The waves lapping against the boat.
And the occasional creaking from the hallway—as if someone were slowly creeping by our room.
I had no shame in admitting it made me a little paranoid, so I voiced my suspicions. “Do you think Dr. Lovejoy is patrolling the boat tonight to make sure we’re all following orders?”
“Yacht,” Cade corrected absentmindedly, still working on his laptop. “And no. She’s got better uses for her time.”
That was debatable.
“What if she is, though?” I squinted, looking for shadows through the crack under the door. Dr. Lovejoy seemed to take her job very seriously. “Should we jump on the bed and start moaning and stuff? Simulate a passionate night for her to overhear?”
The typing immediately stopped, and Cade looked away from his screen to stare at me. “I’m not faking sex, Darling.”
I winced. “Okay, but what if—”
“If you want me to make you moan for real, that’s a different discussion.” When his darkening gaze dragged down to my pajama top, heat crept up my neck, until his eyes flicked back up to mine. “But I won’t fake sleeping with you for some deranged, tree-hugging fraud claiming to be a therapist.”
I gulped, suddenly at a complete loss for what to say or do. “Oh.”
The corner of Cade’s mouth twitched, and he turned back to his screen—as if he hadn’t just combusted my ability to think straight. “Let me know what you decide.”
My eyes bugged out, and it was impossible to focus on crocheting anymore. I missed the loop with my hook four times and had to set my yarn aside on the nightstand.
Was he seriously offering to sleep with me?
Taking a moment to let that sink in, I chose my words carefully. “Listen, Cade. I’m really flattered—truly—but sex with a client is very clearly against clause 3.2 of the Cuddle—”
“Relax.” A small smirk tugged at Cade’s lips, and he lifted a dark brow. “I remember your damn Cuddle Code, and I can keep my hands to myself.”
A puff of air escaped me.
Cade got up from the bed without another word, put away his laptop, and disappeared into the closet.
I sat frozen while he changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth. The new glint in his eyes put ideas in my head, like imagining all the different ways he could be making me moan right now.
I’d never thought I’d rue the day I created the Cuddle Code.
Cade returned from the bathroom and climbed into bed in silence. He flicked off the lamp on his side, then settled in to sleep.
I hesitated a long moment before turning off my light, too.
The air in our room felt different than ten minutes ago. Heavier. Charged.
Every rustle of the sheets as I scooted under the covers seemed too loud in the stillness.
We lay together in the quiet for a long time, the only noise Whiskey swatting his new crab toy around the other room.
Long enough that the silence that’d been comfortable not long ago turned suffocating.
When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I turned my head to Cade. He already lay on his side, facing me—eyes closed. I cleared my throat and whispered through suddenly dry lips, “You know, you don’t have to keep your hands completely to yourself. Cuddling is still—”
He hooked an arm over my waist and pulled me against his front before I had time to blink.
Laughing softly, I snuggled into his chest, which was growing more and more familiar each night.
It wasn’t the primal, passionate experience Dr. Lovejoy had promised us. There weren’t any auras weaving or multiple orgasms or beastly roaring, and I didn’t transform into a goddess.
But Cade held me all night long, keeping me warm like my own personal furnace.
And he’d given me his chocolate.