20. Sloane
Chapter twenty
Sloane
The weekend came and went much too quickly, but it was a much-needed time away for Cade and me. With the stalker, the wedding, and painting my new collection, everything felt like it was piling up, suffocating me from the inside out until I was completely smothered. It’s been awful, but thankfully the trip was relaxing enough to make me forget about things for a little while.
When Cade drops me off at my parents’ on Monday afternoon, I find Mia sitting in the kitchen, looking colder than ice. She looks at me and shakes her head in disbelief.
“Nice tan,” she says, though the compliment is anything but complimentary. She’s pissed at me—again—and I’ve barely even stepped through the door.
What the hell did I do now?
“Since you seem confused, does Saturday night ring a bell to you?” Mia asks sourly as I keep staring at her, indeed confused. I went to the glam test run on Saturday with her and the bridal party, didn’t I? What could I have possibly missed on Saturday night?
And that’s when it hits me.
The wedding favors. She asked me to help her with the wedding favors on Saturday night, and I totally forgot.
“Shit, Mia,” I groan, putting a hand to my face.
She holds her hand up, shutting me up, and for good reason. I promised her I’d be there for her again, and I screwed up—again.
“Where’s all the wedding favor stuff? We can do them now,” I say a bit desperately, hoping I can make it up to her.
“They’re already done, no thanks to you,” Mia says, her voice dripping with acid. “Cammie and I spent the entire night working on them while you were off jetting to the Bahamas with Cade, who’s apparently your new boyfriend since coming back to town.” She shakes her head and lets out a disgusted sound. “Like, what the hell is wrong with you, Sloane? I ask you to be my maid of honor because you’re my sister… my only sister. I barely see you as it is, and you can’t be bothered to show up for me when I need you most because you’re having a… thing with Cade?” She scoffs. “You’ve clearly never gotten over your crush on him, but you cannot be serious with this timing.”
Maybe I deserve to be called out for slacking on my responsibilities, but not like this. And whatever happens between me and Cade, I’m a grown woman who can make her own decisions.
It feels like I’m being slapped repeatedly, but no one is cutting me any slack because I got myself into this mess.
I stay quiet as Mia continues railing against me, elaborating on what a shitty maid of honor I’ve been and how she should have given that role to Cammie from the start. There really isn’t anything I can say to make this better. I’ve screwed up nonstop the entire time I’ve been here. Even on the first day, I screwed up by sleeping with Cade—in a bar bathroom, no less. While against all odds, that has turned out to be something quite beautiful, it all started that night, and I had only been in town for less than six hours.
A knock sounds at the front door. I exchange a look with Mia, who stops talking mid-rant. She shrugs and walks past me through the foyer. She opens the door and walks back with an envelope in hand.
“It’s for you,” she says coldly, placing the letter in front of me. “You sure are popular these days,” she adds cattily.
But I don’t respond to her snark because my blood has turned to ice at seeing that envelope. An envelope that has my name written in that same loopy handwriting as the last letter.
I look up at Mia, who frowns. I know I must look like a deer in the headlights.
“Did you see anyone out there?” I ask her hesitantly.
She shakes her head, but I bet she didn’t even think to look. It isn’t her fault, though. It isn’t often that we have to keep an eye out for a stalker.
But I don’t understand. I thought James Pickens was caught. Why am I still receiving creepy letters?
I stare at the envelope on the counter like it’s some kind of poisonous insect. Finally, I reach for it and rip it open like peeling off a band-aid. I take it out and begin to read it. Each word sticks out like a sore thumb, the tone full of a subtle yet sinister rage.
Miss Bennett,
I’ve grown wary of the time you’ve spent with Cade Hart. He isn’t like us—tortured souls of the arts and curators of visual worlds that writers can only dream of expressing. I write this to you so you understand clearly. Every move you make, I see all. Everything you’re doing, right in this moment, I know it. So let me remain frank with you: end this trivial relationship with Cade Hart, and I won’t have to take desperate measures. I am not a violent person, you know? But if anything comes between what I seek, I’ll happily use force.
I do hope your collection is coming along nicely. I look forward to viewing it upon release and shaking your hand a second time.
And remember: humanize thyself.
Love,
Your Biggest Fan
I drop the letter back on the kitchen island, saying nothing, but my shaking hands betray me. Frowning at me again, Mia takes the letter in her hands and begins to read it. I don’t stop her, too overcome by the fear and revulsion crawling under my skin.
It finally dawns on me: this will never end.
Mia puts the letter down and curses under her breath. “Oh, Sloane,” she says, wrapping her arms around me, holding me close.
I try my best to cling to her, but my body doesn’t want her. It doesn’t want her to make me feel safe. Still, I’m grateful she’s trying to comfort me despite what a terrible maid of honor I’ve been. At least now she knows why I’ve been so absent and distracted, apart from Cade.
She pulls away from me with a frown, sensing that her physically comforting me isn’t working. She takes her phone out of her pocket and starts making a call.
“Hello?” I hear Mike say on the other line, but not even his voice offers me the comfort I need. My body shakes as the fear continues to envelop me like a smothering hot blanket.
“Mike, it’s Mia. Sloane got some letter. Oh, Mike, the letter was so creepy and deranged. I don’t know what to do for her. She’s shaking in fear, and nothing I do is breaking her out of it.”
She’s right about that. I’m physically here, I can hear her, but it’s like I’m not actually in my body right now. I’ve been severely triggered by the way that letter and the person behind it want to have this hold over me.
But why? What have I done to make this person so deeply invested in me besides create art?
“Bring her to Cade’s,” I hear Mike answer. “He will know what to do.”
Mia hangs up the phone. She quickly grabs her keys, forgetting all about her anger, too focused on helping me instead. It feels like I’m seeing a glimpse of the sister I once looked up to, and despite the haze of panic, it feels comfortingly familiar. I know I have a lot of making up to do, but I’m just happy she isn’t dwelling on that. At least not right now.
We get into her car, and she drives us out to Meadow Falls to Cade’s estate. I stare straight ahead like I’m made of stone. It’s like my whole body has shut down and the only thing left is a husk of what I once was, but I know it’s not permanent; it’s a coping skill. I’ve never been very good at those skills, as my stint in rehab can attest to, but I guess what I’m doing right now is better than drinking my feelings away.
The guard lets us in as Mia pulls up to the front of the gate. Once we’re in front of the house, Cade comes rushing out the front door, and he and Mia both help me get out of the car.
“What happened?” he demands, wrapping his arms around me .
“She got a letter, and the next thing I know, she went into fight-or-flight mode,” Mia explains. “Mike told me to bring her here and that you’d know what to do.”
After that, it’s all a blur of movement as Mia leaves me in Cade’s capable hands. He guides me inside the house. I see Liam peek around the corner, but Cade shows him away gently. He knows I don’t want Liam to see me like this, but I can’t will myself out of this state. It’s like everything leading up to this has finally caught up to me. I feel like a zombie hopelessly meandering around a dead, deserted city.
Cade guides me upstairs to his bedroom, shutting us inside. He helps me onto the bed and then lies down behind me, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist.
Instantly, I feel a deep warmth fill me, melting all the ice-cold fear paralyzing my body. Just like that, I feel like I can breathe again.
It’s odd, but it’s as if my body has grown accustomed to Cade, to him protecting me, it sought him out to bring me back down to reality. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but one thing is for certain: I need this stalker caught.
I turn over on my side and face Cade. He’s drawn the curtains shut, locking us away from the outside world once more. The Bahamas were a nice distraction, but the reality of everything back home hit me harder than I thought it would. It didn’t help matters that the moment I walked inside the house from getting back, Mia was back to yelling at me. It’s like she started to trigger this stress response, but the letter made it unravel completely.
I will admit I totally deserved her tongue-lashing, but it was just crappy timing. At least now it’s behind us and I can focus on me in this moment. Cade’s eyes search me, inspecting me to see if I’ve returned to him. I’m very much present right now.
“My prince charming,” I say softly.
He chuckles a little. “Now how do you figure that?” he asks. I think he’s just happy that I can say anything at all.
“Prince charming normally kisses the sleeping princess awake, but all you had to do was hold her,” I explain.
That prompts another relieved laugh out of him. I’m still a little dazed from the whole ordeal, but at least I know I can trust Cade to bring me back to safety, to reality.
“You know, if this was a real fairytale, you’d have kissed me already,” I point out in a low whisper, pressing my body closer to him.
He lets out a low hum as if considering those words. His hand finds my waist, his warm skin touching the skin peeking from my shirt, and presses his lips gently to mine.
This kiss feels very different than the others. It seems to hold promise and purpose. Every kiss we’ve shared has been special in different ways, but this one feels almost… vulnerable. All I want is to be that with him.
Without breaking the kiss, I lie on my back as Cade hovers over me. His kisses are slow and deliberate. They carry a tender passion behind them, unlike the aggressive ones we’ve shared in the past. His hands find mine, his fingers interlacing with my own, pressing me into the pillow and framing my face like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever touched.
I whimper into Cade’s mouth, wanting more from him, to be as close to him as I can. I want him and desire him so much, but not in the feral way in the past. I want him to show me a passion that’s fueled by his genuine desire for a future with me. I want him to show me how much he adores me. As cheesy as it may sound, I want to make love with him.
As if reading my mind, he stops kissing me and tilts his head thoughtfully. He releases his hands from mine to slowly lower my shorts and peel them off, letting his fingers dance and tease along the newly exposed, sensitive skin of my legs. He moves them up to the waistband of my underwear and takes his time pulling it off. Gazing intently at me, as if waiting for me to stop him, he gently presses a finger between my legs.
With how easily he coaxes it inside me, he can’t have any doubt how ready for him I am. He lets out a shaky breath as if he just came to the same realization, and I watch his eyes darken with need.
I murmur his name, pressing my hips into his touch, urging him to start moving. But he just smirks at me, leaving me wanting, and I scowl at him.
He laughs and presses a gentle kiss to my mouth. “Patience,” he whispers as he pulls away, removing his finger and earning another grumble from me. Ignoring me, he moves down my body until he disappears under the covers, putting my legs over his shoulders.
I’ve been wanting this from him for some time, and I breathe hard in anticipation, pressing my head against the pillow. When I feel his tongue sweep over me, I let out a low whimper. And he’s only just warming up. For the next several minutes, he uses his lips, his tongue, his fingers to turn me into putty. I thank God Liam isn’t here, because I can’t stop the incessant moans escaping my mouth. I’m practically melting into the bed, entirely at Cade’s command.
When he licks the most sensitive part of me while pushing two fingers into me, I shatter into infinite pieces. He holds me, working me through my climax, planting gentle, soothing kisses up and down my neck.
But I’m not done with him, not nearly done. I want more. I want him to take me and fully claim me as his. To possess me.
I want him to love me.
When he presses his lips to mine again, I moan into his mouth, tasting myself on his tongue. My hands find the waistbands of his shorts and boxers, and I slide them down to his ankles. My hand shoots back up to find him hot, hard, and eager for me. I wrap it around him firmly but not too aggressively, and he groans into my mouth as I give him a few strokes.
Nipping his bottom lip, I guide him toward where I need him most. His lust-filled gaze never leaving mine, he enters me until I can’t tell where he ends and I begin.
I delight in the feeling of being so stretched by him, and he keeps still until I accommodate him fully. I smile at him and nod, and he pulls his hips back, takin his first movements slow and gentle.
Before long, I realize that this coupling isn’t like anything we’ve experienced together. Each kiss to my skin, each press of his hips, is gentle yet calculated, unlike the other times that felt more or less like complete chaos. He seems to be expressing something with his body that he can’t tell me with words.
“Oh, Cade,” I say breathlessly, meeting his steady, impassioned movements with my hips. I clutch him harder, savoring the feel of his sweaty, hard, masculine body covering me.
He’s as responsive as I am to our new style of lovemaking. He grunts and shuts his eyes, his hands gripping my hips as he urges himself even deeper inside me. Though we’ve barely started, I feel myself already careening toward another earth-shattering climax. Nothing seems to turn me on more than watching this endlessly calm, collected, put-together man start to lose control because of me.
“Faster,” I demand, not wanting us to revert back to our sloppier sex of the past but to build momentum.
One thing Cade is not is a bad lover. He doesn’t waste any time with words or wasted movements, just simply listens to what I really want. He picks up the pace of his movements while keeping them intentional and intimate, as if he’s determined to wring every last bit of pleasure out of me. He drives into me deeper, finding the angle that makes me feel like I’m about to black out.
I pull him even closer to me, wrapping my legs around his waist, not letting him go. Sweating and panting hard now, I manage to drive my hips upward, matching his speed and thrusts. I watch, transfixed, as he falters in his movements, squeezing his eyes shut again and gritting his teeth as he struggles to maintain a semblance of control.
The sight of him unraveling snaps something in me, and I tumble down into ecstasy, feeling myself pulse and squeeze around him as I let out a long, strangled cry.
Cade comes undone right with me. He groans hard into my neck, growling out my name as he lets out a few last gentle thrusts. He collapses against me, breathing heavily as I attempt to control my own raging heartbeat, enjoying the last few aftershocks of my climax.
“Wow,” I whisper into the room, leaving it out there.
I listen to him chuckle against my side and feel him nod against my shoulder. “No kidding,” he says, lifting his head to meet my gaze. “And here I thought all the other times were mind-blowing, but it just keeps getting better.”
“Well, it’s certainly never boring,” I tease, and he hums in amusement, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
“Good lord, Sloane, it’d be a crying shame if it already was,” he retorts. “We haven’t been together nearly long enough to have dry spells yet.”
He’s joking, but I’ve heard quite a few stories from my friends and their partners having ups and downs with their intimacy. I can only hope Cade and I will never be one of those couples. So far, we seem pretty compatible in that department, but I guess you never know what the future will look like.
“I’ll admit, I probably shouldn’t have egged you into that,” I say, not because I didn’t enjoy it but for a completely different reason.
He glances at me, eyebrows raised and looking ready to question my sanity. Despite how good it was, I’m just not sure now was the right time. Sex is great, but it isn’t meant to fix everything, and I feel like I just used it as a way to feel closer to Cade when I should have just talked to him about everything.
Though the sex was more loving this time, it’s the same thing as the previous times we argued. We’d never uncover the cause of our fight or miscommunication until after we slept together. At times, it almost felt like we were having hate sex, even.
I’m starting to see that this is our major toxic trait as a couple, and it’s something I’m willing to own up to.
“Were you just here for what just happened?” he asks me in disbelief. “You just said ‘wow,’ didn’t you?”
I merely smirk and roll my eyes. “It wasn’t that it was bad by any means.” I say. I want to say more, but I let out a yawn, feeling the fatigue catch up to me. “Never mind. I’m just tired and don’t know what I’m saying. Between the stalker drama and the sex we just had, I feel like I can sleep for days.”
I see Cade’s body sag a little with relief. He stands and walks to the en suite bathroom, returning with a wet rag. My heart melts as I watch him gently rub the warm rag between my legs, cleaning me off. The rag’s warmth feels delicious against my slightly sore flesh.
Though I know we need to talk more about everything, he seems to sense that what I need most right now is rest. He leans in and kisses me deeply. When he pulls away, he looks into my eyes and strokes the top of my head.
“Get some rest, Sloane. I’ll check on you later, okay?” he says softly.
I nod, my eyes growing heavy. Before I can say anything else, I feel myself succumb to a deep, blissful sleep.