CHAPTER NINE
That Saturday, I packed my bags in the afternoon after a hot yoga session that left my legs watery. For some reason, I couldn’t get any of my clothes to look good on me.
Maybe I was just nervous about going on a trip with Caden.
Frustrated, I tore apart my closet, trying on every pair of jeans I owned. Everything was too tight or too loose or the wrong color. Finally, I settled on a cream yoga set with a fuzzy cropped sweater. Then, I grabbed my rolling suitcase, pushed on my sneakers, and strode down the hall.
Sometimes, when I walked like this, I could feel my father’s influence on me. Long stride, back straight, confident steps.
Like I owned the world.
My father was still at work when I’d said goodbye to him that morning. I knew he’d call me tomorrow, but part of me wished he was here to wave goodbye. Maybe it was because this was my first business deal of this size, maybe because the stakes were so high.
I just needed a little reassurance.
In the distance came a low hum, and I hit the button to open the detached garage just as a black Kawasaki screeched around the corner, Caden aboard. He wore the same clothes he always did—black fatigues and boots.
Something sparked downstairs.
I shook my head as he dismounted the bike. He pulled the helmet off, tucking it under his arm. There was a wet spot on his t-shirt from sweat. For some reason, it made me think of the perfect, starched button up Damian had worn. I doubted he ever got sweaty the way Caden did.
My forehead scrunched in a scowl. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? I wasn’t sure anymore.
His cobalt eyes fell on my suitcase, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “That won’t fit on the Kawasaki,” he said.
I stared, trying to figure out what he meant. “I’m not riding that thing all the way to the lodge. Are you kidding?”
His gaze narrowed. “Well, I’m not letting you drive me.”
“I’m a good driver.”
“Highly doubt.”
I forgot all about his sexy, sweaty t-shirt and decided I’d much rather flip him off instead. So I did, with one freshly manicured finger.
“Nice,” he said.
“Thought you’d like that.”
He sighed, snatching my suitcase from my surprised hand. The gravel crunched under his boots as he crossed to the open garage. I paused, wavering until he stopped and glanced back.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting your shit in the trunk of your car,” he said.
“You’re not driving my car,” I snapped.
He tossed the suitcase into the back seat and lifted his hand, my keys hanging from his middle finger. “Come on, we’re burning daylight.”
When had he taken my keys?
He’d gotten the upper hand—I’d give him that just this once. I joined him in the garage, arms crossed tight. He reached across and opened my door—like the gentleman he usually wasn’t—and I sat down, tossing my ponytail to make sure he knew I was pissed.
He laughed softly, and the engine purred as we backed into the lawn. He parked and jumped out, leaving it running while he put his Kawasaki into the garage and hit the button to shut the door.
Then, he settled himself in the front seat and drove my car out onto the street. The sun was just beginning to set over the trees. I kicked my sneakers off and curled up, ignoring him pointedly. It wasn’t very satisfying, because he was ignoring me back.
I snuck a peek from beneath my lashes. He was settled in, long legs stretched out, one hand draped lazily over the wheel. I followed the lines of dark ink up his forearm to where they disappeared beneath his shirt. They reappeared on the right side of his throat, extending to his sharp jawline.
Forgetting I was trying to be subtle, I let my gaze wander over his face.
He had a nice profile. A strong nose with a little arch in the middle. Sleek black hair so dark that it reflected the light like a raven’s wing.
But those heavy-lidded eyes with dark lashes were what had been my downfall that night in the bar. I never, ever hooked up. I’d slept with my high school boyfriend a few times, but I’d never had sex with a stranger.
I’d definitely never let one take me home and go down on me without asking for anything in return.
Why was he so obsessed with eating me out anyway?
God, this was so embarrassing.
Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be so physically perfect but such an asshole otherwise?
The sun was finally creeping below the horizon when he rolled the top of the car up. I’d shifted to my side, curled up with my eyes closed. The radio played softly in the background. I had to admit, it was cozy. He drove fast, but he was careful. And, I admitted begrudgingly, I felt safe with him behind the wheel.
We drove in silence on the highway for about an hour. He had the car on cruise control and his knees were spread. I cracked my eyes and found my gaze lingering on the zippered front of his pants. There was a faint rise, but maybe it was just the way the fabric bunched.
Or maybe not.
I swallowed, my throat oddly dry.
The car slowed, and the turn signal clicked. I lifted my head, looking around.
“What—why are you stopping?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
He guided the vehicle down the off ramp, the lights of a state border rest stop flickering ahead. “Need to take a piss. You want anything?”
I frowned, straightening and grabbing my shoes. It bothered me how vulgar he could be; he could have just said he needed the bathroom.
“I’ll use the bathroom too,” I said primly.
The corner of his mouth turned up, the streetlamps flickering in his eyes. He stepped out of the car, unfurling those long legs as I moved after him. It was dark, and there were a group of men standing by the door. One glanced at me, giving me a slow, up and down stare.
Instantly, I curled up inside and my steps faltered.
Right away, Caden was beside me, one hand on my waist. My heart thrummed. I glanced up at him for a second, but he was steering me inside like he did it all the time, like it was normal for him to guide and protect me with a hand on my hip and his body as a barrier.
Inside, he released me outside the restrooms, turning to push the door to the men’s open.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
Why had I frozen up like that? Heat crept over my face, and I turned without speaking, pushing into the women’s bathroom. It was sickly hot inside and smelled of bleach. I paused before the mirror, grabbing a handful of paper towels to run under cold water.
There was a reason my father had our house outfitted with the best security system money could buy. There was a reason he had a tracking chip in my car and I let him have my phone location most of the time.
Except for when I’d been with Caden.
My neck prickled. I dabbed it with the sopping towels, my heart slowing.
You’re safe.
I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. Hands steady, I gathered up my hair and tied it in a messy bun on my head to keep it off my sweaty neck. Caden would be wondering what was taking so long.
I used the bathroom, washed up, and stepped out into the main area. He was standing by the vending machines, and when I drew near, I swore I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Maybe that was just a part of me that wished he’d put his hand on my back again.
“What do you want?” he asked.
I shrugged. “A diet soda.”
He raised that sharp brow. “I thought you only drank tea and sparkling water.”
“And diet sodas.”
He gave me a look, a slow, thorough look that reminded me he’d seen between my legs. A shiver made its way down my spine, but I ignored it. People acted professional all the time with people they’d slept with, and I hadn’t even had sex with him.
“I want gummy worms too,” I said, drawing myself up. I usually tried not to eat sugar, but sour gummy worms were my weakness.
He leaned in, swiping his card and hitting the button. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
My stomach flipped. The way he said it, like there was no H, scratched an itch, like he was curling his tongue around that word and flicking the way he had on my clit.
I turned abruptly and left the main area, stepping out onto the sidewalk. The men were gone as I walked to the car and waited, arms crossed, for him to appear. He did, holding our snacks, his heavy eyes devoid of expression.
Good; a blank stare was better than a smirk.
He dumped everything in my lap and started the car. He’d gotten himself two energy drinks and a bottle of water. I put them in the center console and popped the lid of my coke, promptly cracking the tip of my acrylic. A little flicker of pain moved down my hand and wrist.
Involuntarily, I gasped, and his gaze swung around as he pulled back on the highway.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said.
His thigh tensed as he accelerated. “Tell me.”
“Fine,” I sighed, defeated. “I broke a nail. Go on, make fun of me.”
His expression didn’t change. He shrugged once, reaching for his drink. “There’s a salon at the lodge. Get it fixed tomorrow.”
I’d expected him to tease me about being upset over a nail. Confused, I settled back and peeled off my sneakers again. There was a fuzzy mauve blanket in the back seat, and I grabbed it, spreading it over my legs.
“Comfortable?” The wry note was back.
“Very,” I said, ripping open my gummy worms.
He laughed softly, running a hand over his chin. He hit the radio, and a soft rock song filled the car. I dug in the bag and pulled out a gummy, biting the blue side off. It was my favorite; unfortunately, the red side was my least.
I put that back in the bag. He yawned and took a drink.
I glanced over, watching a muscle in his jaw twitch. I hated to admit it, but he was so attractive in everything he did that I was a little jealous. I worked hard to make my father proud, to be pretty and perfect. Caden just walked into the room, and every head turned.
He crushed his empty drink in his fist and set it in the trash compartment in the console. I bit off the blue side of another gummy, stretching it out, not taking my eyes from him.
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you only eating one side of that?”
I nodded. “Blue is good. Red is gross.”
He laughed again, just once. I liked his laugh when it wasn’t mocking. It was pleasant and sat deep in his chest.
“Give me the rest,” he said.
I did a double take, sure I’d misheard him. My hand froze halfway in the bag, sugar sticky on my fingertips.
“What?”
“Give me the half you don’t want,” he said, extending his palm.
A little stunned, I bit the blue part off and laid the rest in his hand. He tossed it in his mouth, and that sexy muscle worked in his jaw. I turned, staring ahead, tingles running through my body.
“What’s the matter?”
I cleared my throat. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to not mind swapping saliva with me.”
“I didn’t realize you were sucking on them first.”
“I’m not,” I said, scowling.
“Then contamination is minimal.”
In retrospect, I should have let it go. He was pointedly ignoring the electricity in the car crackling quietly between us. If I hadn’t pushed, he would have just fallen quiet.
“It’s a couple thing to do,” I blurted out. “That’s why it’s weird.”
He yawned. “I ate you out for two hours straight, so I think we’re beyond that boundary.”
My jaw dropped.
“Gummy,” he demanded, offering his palm.
Obediently, I bit the blue half off and gave him the rest. The highway rushed by outside, and neither of us said another word.
Not even when the bag was empty and I stuffed it in the trash.
He dusted off his hand and popped open his second drink. I finished my diet coke and curled up under the blanket.
Sleepily, I mulled it over. Ever since he’d insisted he drive to the lodge, something felt different, like my need to control everything was…not gone, but less annoying. Maybe it was because he’d gotten off that motorcycle and told me exactly what was going to happen.
Maybe I was just tired of having to run things and desperate for someone else to do it for once.
That had to be it.
It wasn’t like I trusted him or anything.