Chapter 6 Tris
“Do you think I’d die if I fell down these stairs?”
All night long, Tris had been verbalizing every intrusive thought that jumped into his head. And just like all the other times, Cade grinned. “I hope not, but there are a lot of variables to take into consideration. The rate, the height, the velocity, the trajectory… So, it’s hard to say.”
And that was it. No odd looks, no sarcastic comments about him needing therapy. Just a semi-logical answer to his completely irrational question. It shouldn’t have meant anything, but it did. It made him feel seen instead of managed.
Tris tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered like something out of a romance novel. Somehow, the worst date ever was now the healthiest date Tris had ever had…except for one thing.
Cade was a murderer. Professionally.
He was pretty candid about it, too. He’d sat across from Tris as they waited for their to-go order, answering all his questions calmly and succinctly without a shred of remorse or any real emotion at all.
And he’d maintained that calm because he wasn’t just a murderer for hire, he was a psychopath. An actual diagnosed psychopath.
Ted Bundy was a psychopath. Edmund Kemper was a psychopath. Cade, though—Cade smiled when Tris talked about video games and ordered waffles for him without asking. Somehow, that made it worse. Or better. Tris wasn’t sure anymore.
He should have run screaming into the night the moment they’d hit the dock. Cade didn’t know his last name. He didn’t know where he lived or any other identifying information about him. He could have easily disappeared. But…he didn’t. Because he didn’t want to.
Cade said he only killed bad people, and Tris believed him.
Tris couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Would you be sad if I died?”
Cade contemplated it for a moment. “Yes. I don’t like the idea of a world without you in it.”
Warmth pooled in Tris’s lower belly. Why was that so hot?
He couldn’t remember a time when someone had cared whether he was in the world or not.
His chest squeezed, and the warmth turned electric, lust tangled with the ache of being wanted for the first time.
It made him want to shove Cade up against the wall of the stairwell and show his appreciation. On his knees.
Cade’s gaze darkened, like he’d heard the thought. “Careful,” he murmured. “You keep looking at me like that, and we’re not going to make it inside.”
“Oh, no,” Tris said mockingly, pressing a hand to his open mouth.
Cade gave him a heated look. “Would you be sad if I died?” he countered.
Tris snorted. “I’m co-dependent. I’ll probably be sad when you take too long in the shower.”
The sound Cade made—half laugh, half groan—did things to Tris he didn’t have the vocabulary for.
Cade grinned, leading him the short distance to his apartment. Once inside, things got much more real. The moment the door closed, Cade crowded him up against it, capturing his face between his palms and kissing him deeply, tongue plunging inside in a way that made Tris moan and his cock throb.
Fuck.
Tris let Cade strip him of his jacket and t-shirt between kisses, liking the way his hands kneaded at the muscles of his back while he fucked his tongue into his mouth.
When that cool metal ball of Tris’s tongue ring grazed his own tongue, Cade growled, a low, hungry sound that made Tris’s knees buckle.
They broke apart long enough for Tris to strip Cade of his own jacket and shirt, but then they were kissing once more.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t romantic. It was teeth and breath and want and the dangerous comfort of knowing they were both too far gone to stop.
Cade’s skin was so warm and he smelled amazing, and his hands were everywhere and his lips were soft, and Tris had never wanted someone so bad in his whole fucking life.
He probably would have let him fuck him up against the door but there was just one little problem.
He was so fucking hungry.
Cade laughed. “Don’t worry, puppy. I got you.”
Had Tris said that out loud? Jesus.
“Bed,” Cade demanded.
Tris didn’t hesitate, making his way to the large mattress that featured prominently in the middle of the apartment, stripping off his pants before awkwardly settling in the center of the bed.
His pulse thrummed in his ears, his skin buzzing with anticipation and hunger of the less metaphorical kind.
Cade grabbed something from the refrigerator and brought it to the bed along with the plastic bags carrying their food.
Tris’s gaze locked on the whipped cream can in Cade’s hands as much as the open styrofoam container that held Tris’s food. Cade pulled a section of waffle free, squirting the fluffy substance onto the top before offering it to him.
Tris stared, eyes wide at the offering. Had anybody ever fed him before?
Definitely not. The gesture hit somewhere low and warm, more intimate than anything they’d done yet.
He took a bite, once more moaning as the flavors exploded on his tongue.
The sweet cream, the buttery crunch of the waffle.
Fuck. It shouldn’t have felt like foreplay, but it did.
Especially with Cade watching him like he was cataloging every sound.
When Tris finished his bite, he snagged Cade’s hand, eyeing the cream on his fingers for a moment before sucking them into his mouth. Cade’s pupils blew wide, and Tris reveled in the combination of salt and sugar, skin and sweetness.
Cade pulled his fingers free, then grabbed another section, repeating the ritual until the container was empty. He set it aside. “Better?” he asked.
Tris nodded, nerves flaring once more as he realized there was nothing left to stall what came next. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Cade grinned. “You have no idea.”
There was hunger, and then there was the kind in Cade’s eyes, something darker, feral, and far too focused on him.
Cade gripped him behind the knees, yanking until he was on his back, then blanketed himself over Tris and buried his face in his throat.
Tris groaned when their hips met and he could feel the hard length of Cade’s cock pressed against him.
He really wanted to skip the foreplay. He was so fucking ready to know what it felt like to have Cade buried inside him.
But Cade wasn’t quite on board with that plan. He took his time exploring Tris’s body with teeth and tongue until he was a shivering mess, overwhelmed in every possible way. He just wanted more.
“Fuck, I want to be inside you.”
Tris wanted that, too, but he also wanted Cade just as worked up as he was. He shoved at Cade until he relented, putting him on his back and reaching for the whipped cream.
“I’m not done with dessert,” Tris said, spraying a liberal amount over Cade’s nipple, then making a show of licking it off. The cream melted against Cade’s heat, the taste mingling with salt and skin until Tris was half-drunk on it. His tongue ring dragged a piercing groan from Cade.
“I appreciate your oral fixation, but I’m losing patience,” Cade warned, his voice dark and amused, but threaded with tension that said he was seconds from snapping.
Tris grinned against his chest, breath hot. “Then I guess you’ll have to take it out on me.”
Tris shimmied down, dropping the can onto the bed to strip Cade of his pants and underwear, giving him a heated look. “But I’m just getting to the best part.”
Cade grinned, shaking his head, raising his hips so Tris could drag the clothing down.
Tris tossed them aside before lying between Cade’s open thighs, eyeing his heavy, already leaking cock before leaning down and licking the underside, his tongue ring tracing a cool, deliberate path from base to tip.
Cade sucked in an unsteady breath…because of him.
That only emboldened Tris.
He squirted the whipped cream over Cade’s cock, barely dropping the can before he closed his mouth over him, sucking him from root to tip then back again.
Cade’s hands tangled in his hair, forcing his length deeper until Tris gagged, working himself between his lips until they were both groaning.
Each sound Cade made vibrated through Tris’s chest, a low, primal rumble that made him want to swallow him whole.
Tris pulled away, stripping his own underwear off.
Once he was naked, Cade snagged him around the waist, slamming him back onto the mattress and settling between his legs.
Tris’s eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the heavy weight of Cade on top of him and the wet heat of his mouth as he bit at his ribs, then his hip bones, before returning to capture Tris’s mouth in another dirty kiss.
Then Cade’s hand was between Tris’s legs, his slick fingers sliding between his cheeks to probe his hole.
Tris gasped, body arching, shocked by the sudden coolness of lube where he hadn’t even seen Cade reach for it.
The man really was a professional. At everything.
Two fingers pressed slowly inside him, then worked deeper with each thrust until Tris couldn’t help but cling to him, working himself on Cade’s hand, trying desperately to satisfy the gnawing need within him.
“Enough,” Tris said, once more taking control and pushing Cade onto his back. “Condom?”
Cade pointed at the side table. Tris found what he needed, tearing open the foil with his teeth and rolling it down over Cade’s cock, his hands trembling slightly from adrenaline and lust. The sound of latex sliding over skin was indecently loud in the quiet room.
He slicked him with more lube while Cade watched him from beneath half-hooded lids, pupils blown wide.
Tris settled over him, guiding his cock to his entrance, then sinking down slowly, biting his lip as his body protested the invasion.
God, he was so big, and Tris felt so full, so impossibly connected to this person he’d met just hours ago.
The stretch burned, then melted into pleasure until his breath came in shallow gasps.
He settled his hands on Cade’s chest and started to move.
Cade gripped his hips, clearly not content to let Tris have total control.
But that was fine with him. With every downward motion, Cade’s hips rolled up to meet him, the head of his cock scraping deliciously over that tiny bundle of nerves until Tris felt like a live wire.
The room smelled like sweat, sugar, and sin. Cade’s name caught somewhere between Tris’s throat and his teeth.
For once, Tris was speechless, his usually racing mind tuned into only one thing. He wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking himself. Cade took the opportunity to take over, holding Tris in place so he could drive up into him again and again until he was teetering on the brink.
“I’m gonna come,” he managed.
“Thank fuck,” Cade growled. His voice broke on it, half laugh, half reverent groan, like the sound had been punched out of him.
Then Tris was spilling over his own fist onto Cade’s belly, and Cade was grinding up into him, his fingers biting into his flesh hard enough to leave bruises.
The pain was grounding, a reminder that this was real—blood and breath and heat—not some fever dream on a doomed ship.
Cade growled when he came, slamming up into him one final time, his hips twitching.
Eventually, Tris slid off Cade, mourning the loss as the other man rid himself of the condom. Cade dropped down beside him again, gathering him close. His arm curled protectively around Tris’s waist, palm flattening, like he was afraid he might slip away.
“You’re staying the night.”
“The night’s long gone,” Tris reminded him, burrowing closer so Cade would know Tris had no intention of leaving. He could feel Cade’s heartbeat under his cheek, beating double-time, as if killing a man and fucking someone senseless belonged in the same category of calm.
“Then stay the morning and the afternoon and tonight,” Cade said, dropping his chin to the top of Tris’s head.
“Careful or I might stay forever.”
Cade gave a soft laugh. “That would be okay, too.”
For a man who claimed he couldn’t feel guilt or empathy, Cade sounded almost like he meant it. And for the first time in his life, Tris wanted to believe somebody did.