KADE
17
Sage’s shift is done—finally. I push off the barstool, every muscle coiled tight as I follow her through the dimly lit maze of tables and chairs toward the exit.
“Here, let me help you with that,” I offer, reaching for the tray she’s balancing with practiced ease. She shoots me a look—half grateful, half wary—but doesn’t protest as I lift it from her hands. It’s nothing really, just an excuse to hover closer, to let my fingers brush hers in the exchange. The contact zings straight to my dick, sending a message my body can’t ignore. Keep touching me like that, Wildflower, and I’m gonna bend you over this bar and show everyone who you belong to. I may be here to protect her, but it’s becoming more and more difficult to keep my hands to myself. Not when my body is begging me to submit to my carnal urges .
Her voice low and husky, slicing through the thick air between us, she murmurs, “Thanks, Kade.”
“Anytime.” I keep it casual, though there isn’t anything casual about the way my zipper is biting into my throbbing dick.
Leaving the tray forgotten on a nearby barrel, together we exit through the back door into the gravelly embrace of the night. I follow her to her truck, a classic red Chevy that’s in pristine condition, ignoring the parking lot lights as they cast long shadows, turning the familiar into something feral and sinister.
“Here,” I say, giving her the keys she left on the bar earlier. Our fingers graze again, deliberate this time, lingering like a whisper of promise. Her hand is cool, small in mine, but her grip tightens for an instant, telling me more than words could.
“Kade, I…” She trails off, biting her lip.
I step closer, tilting her chin with a touch of my fingers. “Spit it out, Sage.” My eyes linger on her pouty lips, and it takes everything in me to keep my self-control in check. If she keeps looking at me like that, no doubt I’ll lose it. Part of me hopes she gives me a reason to wreck her right here in this parking lot.
“Is this… What are we doing?” she asks. Damn if that isn’t the million-dollar question.
“I’m following your lead.” I’m not. I know exactly how this ends, but I’ll be patient while she catches up .
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly. There’s a flicker of fight-or-flight in her gaze—I read it clear as day. But she is not running, not from me.
“Hey,” I prompt, sliding my hand to cup her cheek gently, forcing her to look into my eyes. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
A shuddering breath escapes her, and she leans into my touch ever so slightly. “I know.”
I hope to fuck I’m not reading her wrong, because there’s no way I can deny myself. Not with her so close. I greedily drink in every ragged breath she expels as I thread my fingers through her long blonde tresses, fighting every instinctive urge to pull her against me and let her feel how much she affects me. She tracks my every movement as her chest quickly rises and falls. Does she sense my control is a millisecond from snapping?
Her tongue slips out to wet her lip, attracting the attention of my ravenous, hungry eyes, and my patience runs out. I close the gap between us, my mouth descending on hers. Kissing Sage is like indulging in three of my favorite deadly sins—greed, gluttony, and lust.
I remove all the space between us, lifting her, both hands splayed over her ass cheeks, as I press her back against the truck. All reason is lost. I’m consumed by her. Sage seems just as affected—her hands roam over my shoulders, then knock the hat off my head as they dive into my hair. That’s it, Sage. Show me how wild I make you.
Her thighs tighten around my waist, and I can’t resist grinding against her Daisy Dukes-covered pussy. Tearing my mouth from hers, I growl, “Fuck, Sage,” and trail my lips over her jawline and down to her collarbone, then back up to bite her neck, adding the only kind of bruise that should ever be on her body. “So fuckin’ addictive, Wildflower.” The words are a caress against her skin.
Her needy cunt chases the high as she thrusts against my aching cock. “Don’t you dare stop, Kade.” My fingers slip under the frayed edge of her tiny denim shorts. Applying pressure, my hips grind into her, giving her what she needs.
I can smell her arousal as it permeates the air around us. “Jesus, Sage, you must be soaked. I can almost taste your sweetness on my tongue.”
She trembles in my arms as she breathes out, “Oh god.”
“Are you going to come for me, Wildflower?” I rasp, right before fusing my mouth to hers again. Her nails claw the back of my neck as her spine stiffens. “That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Break for me.”
Sage throws her head back, her body going almost limp as she trembles. I kiss her neck as she writhes through her release. Once she’s fully satiated from her orgasm, I set her on her feet.
I fight against the urge to keep touching. Instead, I step back, giving her space to breathe, space to be brave. Every cell in my body rages against the tenuous restraint I’m fighting to maintain. My cock is screaming for release, and she’s the only one capable of giving it to me. Down, boy !
“Get. In. The truck, Sage. I’ll follow behind,” I demand, gentle but firm.
“Kade, I…” She hesitates again, her gaze searching mine in the half-light.
“Seriously, Wildflower. Last warning.” Now is not the time for her to test my resolve, not unless she wants everyone vacating this damn bar to see her on her knees, lips coated in my cum.
With a nod, she climbs into the cab, starting up the engine. It rumbles to life, all noise and smoke, a beast waking from slumber. I watch as she rolls down the window, her silhouette framed by the interior light.
“See you on the flip side,” she says, trying for a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Bet on it,” I shoot back, my voice gruff with unspoken emotions.
I wait until her truck pulls away, crunching over the gravel, taillights fading into the distance, then stoop to fetch my hat. Adjusting my dick as I turn toward my pickup, I climb in, fire up the engine, and follow behind her, giving her some space while staying close enough to charge in if shadows turn to threats.
The whole drive, my mind’s a tangled mess of what-ifs and whys. Toby’s gone, rotting deep on the ranch, and here I am, playing guardian angel to the girl who doesn’t even know the devil she’s frightened of is now lying under six feet of dirt and lies.
Every inch of me aches to be more than her protector, her confidant, hell, her anything. For now, I’m just Kade, following Sage home in the dead of night, praying the ghosts that haunt us both stay buried.
As I tail Sage’s truck, the roar of my engine a low growl that echoes in the empty space between us. My headlights carve out a small dome of visibility, the only barrier against the oppressive darkness. I keep my eyes glued to the red glow of her taillights, hypnotic and steady as they bob gently with each dip in the road. Occasionally, she taps her brakes—a flash that sends a jolt through me—and I ease off the gas, maintaining our unspoken pact of distance.
The air in my truck is stuffy, reeking of old leather and the remnants of cigarettes long since stubbed out. I crack the window, hoping for relief, but the rush of air brings the scent of impending rain, heavy with the promise of a storm. It mingles with the tang of my own sweat, and I swipe at my forehead with the back of my hand.
I shift in my seat, restless, the denim of my jeans rough against my skin. There’s an itch beneath the surface, a longing to break free from this self-imposed cage, to race ahead, pull up beside her, and finish what we started.
Glancing in my rearview mirror, the reflection of the orbs from streetlights wash over the road, casting eerie shadows that play tricks on my eyes. I see movement where there is none, imagine figures looming in the periphery of my vision. It’s Toby’s ghost haunting me, no doubt—an ever-present reminder of the secret buried deep in my land along with his cold, dead body.
I shake my head, trying to dispel the images, but they cling like cobwebs, stubborn and persistent. I focus instead on the rhythmic thrum of my heartbeat, the solid feel of the steering wheel beneath my palms, anything to ground me in the here and now.
Her truck takes a turn, signaling left, and I follow suit, the click of my blinker in sync with hers. The familiar roads roll past, houses darkened and silent as their occupants sleep. A dog barks somewhere in the distance, a lonely sound that fades as quickly as it came.
We’re closer now, leaving civilization behind us. The road ahead is a strip of black tar that snakes through the landscape, flanked by fields that stretch unseen into the night.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. Rhett seemed concerned earlier, and if what he said is true, I’m not the only one who’s been lurking. I scan the roadside for any potential hiding spots. Gotta stay sharp, can’t let anything slip past me.
Finally, her truck slows, turning onto the gravel driveway that leads to her house. The crunch of stones under her tires is loud in the quiet night. I follow her, leaving enough distance between me and the possibility of Ridge seeing my approach.
Killing the engine, I sit and wait, watching as she gets out of her truck, her movements quick and purposeful. She doesn’t look back. But I know she feels my eyes on her. The reality is, I’m watching over her like some damn creeper who’s seen too much hell to really fit the part of her secret protector.
The porch light flickers on, and she fumbles with her keys, glancing over her shoulder—where our gazes might have met if I were closer. Then the door opens, and she slips inside, disappearing from view.
A weight lifts from my chest, and the breath I’d been holding escapes in a slow hiss. She’s home, she’s safe—for tonight, anyway. For a brief moment, I contemplate following her inside and standing over her all night while she gets some much-needed sleep. But then, I think better of it.
She needs some space, and I’ve already fulfilled my obsession by shadowing her all night. Deciding it’s best I head back to Black River, I allow myself a few more minutes, just to be sure. When there’s no sign of movement, no sounds other than the wind picking up, whispering through the trees that line her property, I know it’s my cue to leave.
Starting up my truck, I U-turn on the gravel, glancing in the rearview mirror at the house that holds more secrets than it should.
The distance grows between us, and I push it all down, bury it next to Toby’s rotting corpse. Right now, it’s about moving forward, taking it one day at a time, pretending everything’s all right when nothing is further from the truth. Will she hate me when she finds out? Who fucking knows?
The soft purr of the engine is a lullaby that does nothing to soothe the restlessness inside. It’s gonna be a long night filled with dreams that are too close to memories, and memories that bleed into nightmares. That’s just the way it is when you’ve got blood on your hands and a girl tangled up in your heart.
And so I keep driving back toward my ranch, chasing the dawn that promises a new day, even though I know damn well some stains don’t wash away with the morning light.