Chapter Fourteen
Kade
“I”m not interrupting anything, am I?” Alex”s voice is like an ice pick through my heart. I know that I should pull away from Emma, but I know that if I jerk away, it”s going to look as bad as it is. Instead, I hold her gaze, and she stares up into my eyes with an expression of heat and fear.
“Absolutely not,” I reply without looking at him, my tone cool.
Emma”s gaze flicks to her brother, then back to me with a look of fabricated panic. “I”ll never go through your desk again,” she whispers, so low I feel the words more than hear them, but I know he can hear her, too. Her eyes plead for understanding, for secrecy, and I know she doesn”t want her brother to know the truth any more than I do. And that’s going to pose a big problem in the future.
“Good,” I say in a low, threatening tone that sends a shiver through her. If I didn”t know better, I”d think she was enjoying this back and forth.
She nods, slipping out from under my arm and not even looking at her brother as she darts past, leaving a trail of soft perfume in her wake that leaves my mouth watering.
Alex watches her flee, then turns his stunned expression on me. “She was going through your desk?” He”s trying to piece together the scene, but confusion clouds his features, along with fear. Good. I can use that. Fear is easy to manage.
“Nothing important.” I shake my head, dismissing his concern. “She didn”t find anything important.”
He chuckles, a sound that doesn”t quite mask his discomfort. He rubs the back of his neck, a sure sign he”s unsettled. “For a second there, I thought...” He trails off, eyes squinting as if trying to read me.
“You thought what?” I ask, daring him to put me on the spot. I’d be lying if I tried to say I wasn”t enjoying this game of back and forth.
“I thought you were about to kiss her.” His sheepish grin is at odds with the anxiety in his eyes.
“Your sister?” I say with a snort, playing it off, keeping my true desires hidden behind a safe wall of indifference. “Never. Not in a million years.”
“Right.” He doesn”t sound convinced, but he doesn”t push it, either. We both know the truth would complicate things far too much.
“Are you here for a drink or just checking up on your little sister?” I ask, confronting him to throw him a little more off balance. I love Alex, but he’s easy to control.
“A bit of both,” Alex says with a nod of his head, but his attention has already shifted, distracted by other matters.
“Then go to the bar,” I say with a vague gesture toward the main area of the club. Even though I know the move won”t work, I do need the distance to get my head straight.
“You have that scotch?” he asks, nodding toward my desk.
“Of course,” I say, turning to lean against the wall as I watch him speak.
“Maybe you should break that out.” Something about this way he says the words puts me on edge. But I do as he asks and pick up the bottle of Scotch, quickly pouring it into two glasses I keep deep in the bottom drawer of my desk.
“Have you heard anything back from him?” Alex asks and for the first time, my mind is dragged away from the image of Emma bolting like a frightened deer.
I shake my head, the weight of unspoken tension bearing down on us. “Is that why you stopped by? And why you need a drink?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says, clipped and all business now. He throws a glance over his shoulder, as if expecting someone to just appear in the doorway.
I offer him a glass and he stands, sipping the liquid and staring into space.
“Did you hear something?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “The silence is the worst part, you know.”
I nod, knowing exactly what he means.
“But if you haven”t heard anything, I guess I can go.” He downs his drink in a single gulp and hands me back the glass before leaving my office.
The second the door clicks shut, I move. Leaving my office, I weave through the club”s labyrinth, every corner and shadow familiar yet feeling alien because she”s here, and this feeling between us has morphed into something unrecognizable.
I find her in the storage room, a sanctuary of solitude amid her signature brand of organized chaos. Her back is to me, shoulders tense as she arranges bottles with meticulous care and makes notes in the system via a handhold in her grasp.
“Emma,” I say softly.
She freezes, and even though she doesn”t turn, I can picture her wide-eyed surprise, her lips parting slightly in anticipation.
I want her with an intensity that frightens me, but this isn”t the time or place, and she”s off-limits in ways that go beyond the physical. Still, the urge to walk over and pull her into my arms, to kiss her, is almost impossible to ignore.
“Kade,” she says in a short tone, acknowledging me in a cold, polite tone without facing me. The joke is on her. The sound of my name on her lips does weird things to my desire.
“Turn around.” My tone is soft and demanding. But one question sticks out in my mind. Will I be able to keep my hands to myself? And can I resist her?
She complies, and the sight of her hits me hard—a visceral punch to the gut. There’s a stubborn tilt to her chin, a challenge in her stance that tells me she”s no pushover, despite the vulnerability she tries to hide.
The look she gives me is a wild cocktail of fear and wanting. “What do you want?” Her voice wavers, dancing between defiance and something softer.
I stride toward her, bridging the gap with a few purposeful steps. My heart thrums against my ribs, and I ache for a taste of her lips. But I clamp down on that desire, focusing on why I”m really here. “I want to talk about earlier,” I say, locking eyes with her and steeling my self-control.
A shiver runs through Emma”s frame, a visible tremor that tells me her thoughts are miles from the letter. She’s thinking about the kiss we almost shared. That makes two of us.
“About the letter,” I say.
She nibbles her bottom lip—a small, uncertain gesture that has me itching to reach out and run my thumb along the spot she bit. But I hold back, waiting for her permission to make a move. And then it comes, a slight nod that unleashes the words I”ve been holding back.
I lean against the cool, metal shelving, watching her process as I speak. “The letter,” I say, “was a goodbye to Stella. I need closure.” I pause, gauging her reaction. “There”s no ”us” with her.”
Emma”s eyes search mine, looking for the lie, but she won”t find one.
I want to tell her the truth. I want to say, It”s you, Emma. It’s always been you lurking in every thought, every moment I”ve tried to ignore.
But I can see her guard is up, it’s obvious in the way she holds herself and peeks up at me like a fortress preparing for a siege.
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words I’ve kept buried for so long. Feelings that almost emerged when we’d nearly kissed. I want to tell her that I want there to be an “us.”
But would she be willing to take a chance on me? And what would we do about Alex?
Her gaze flicks down, lingering on my lips. She”s close enough that I could close the gap between us and claim her lips in a kiss that would melt both our walls. But I don”t. Not yet. I have to do this right.
“Thank you for saving me back there,” I say, and the corner of her lips curve into a slight smile.
Does she know how perfectly she played it? How easily she protected us both while taking her brother’s mind off of her and me and moving him to the fear that’s been eating at him for a while now? How close is she to the truth?
With her eyes locked on mine, she approaches me like one might approach a dangerous, wild animal.
She stops before me, her eyes soft as her lips move. “Kiss me.”
Every inch of my being screams to taste her lips. But hesitation claws at me—I don’t want to make an impulsive decision. She”s different; important.
But before I can talk her out of her request, she bridges the gap between us.
Her soft hands cradle my face. She rises up on tiptoe, her lips touching mine with an urgency that steals my breath. The softness, the sweet invasion of her taste leaves me wanting her more than I can ever remember wanting anyone else.
I pull her closer, my arms like steel bands around her, lifting her against the wall. Her legs coil around me, clinging to me like I’m her salvation... and her downfall. Our kiss deepens, our tongues meeting and swirling around one another in a kiss that breaks down my self-control.
My fingers skim her skin under her shirt, craving more. They find the excited point of her nipple, and I tease the stiff peak. Her whimper vibrates into my mouth, a sound that calls to every primal part of me. I”ve waited too long for this, hungered too much for her to hold back now.
But then I feel her stiffen in my arms, fear mingling with her desire. My heart thunders against my chest, echoing her rapid pulse.
“Emma?” I whisper, needing to meet her where she’s at, to not scare her or force something she’s not ready for. I pause, the ache in my body warring with the need to protect her, to respect her, to take her for my own.
Reluctantly, I ease back, searching her sky-blue eyes for a sign. What is she thinking? Is it too much, too soon? I’m not hurting her, am I?
“Kade,” she whispers.
“Tell me what you need,” I say, and her gaze locks on mine before she kisses me again.
Her lips leave mine with a soft pop, and I hear her gasp for air. I lower her gently to her feet, my hands on her waist. Her chest heaves against mine, and I can”t help but wonder if I”ve crossed a line.
“Emma,” I say, my voice a rough whisper. “I”m sorry if—”
“Don”t.” She cuts me off, her breath still coming in short bursts. “Don”t apologize.” Her fingers linger against my jaw, tracing the stubble there as her vulnerable gaze locks on mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, needing to know she”s more than just physically all right. The intensity of what just happened worries me, and I hope I didn’t hurt her.
She nods, her eyes still locked with mine. “Yes, I just... it was a lot.” There’s something she’s not telling me; I see it in the way she looks at the ground instead of me.
“Too much?” My gut clenches at the thought that I might”ve pushed too hard, too fast. That I might”ve scared her away when all I want is to pull her closer.
“Not too much,” she whispers. “Just more than I expected.”
“Good,” I say, my thumb tracing over her hip. “Because I”ve been wanting to do that for a long time, Emma Riley.”
“Me, too,” she whispers. Her confession ignites a desire deep within me, but restraint is a muscle I need to flex now, for her sake.
“Okay, then,” I say, taking half a step back to give her space, even though every fiber in me screams to close that distance again. “We should probably get out of this storage room before someone starts looking for us.”
“Right.” She laughs, a little shaky, but it”s music to my ears. “I don’t think Alex would believe you’re telling me off again.”
“No, I don’t think he would,” I say, watching her tuck a stray curl behind her ear. She”s beautiful, disheveled from our kiss, and I”m certain there”s nowhere else I”d rather be than with her.
“Kade?” Her voice is softer now, uncertain.
“Yeah?” There’s no question I wouldn”t answer if she asked right now, and I know how dangerous that power is.
“Thank you. For stopping when you did.” She chews on her lower lip, and it takes everything in me not to kiss her again.
“Of course,” I say as if there’s no other option, because there’s not. But I sense there’s something she’s holding back, something she’s not telling me. And I want to know what she’s hiding.
But I guess I’ll have to wait until she’s ready to share with me. And as she leads us both out of the storage room, I wonder what she’s keeping from me.