35
Cade
The rooftop garden is quiet, but my head won’t shut up. A breeze moves through the potted greenery, cool against the heat crawling under my skin, but it doesn’t help.
Nothing does.
Peeling back the blood-soaked bandage, I suck in a sharp breath as the adhesive clings to raw, swollen skin. This change could wait for the doctor, but I need an excuse to keep my distance right now.
Before I do something I’m too depraved to regret. Like branding Luna as mine right in front of Scar. Repeatedly.
When the fuck did I become that territorial?
“Cade? Did you hear me?”
Kat’s impatient voice cuts through. I glance at the phone propped against the antiseptic bottle on the wrought iron table. Her sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes fill the screen, framed by blonde hair she’s tucked behind her ear. Beautiful, brilliant Kat. Hopelessly in love with a man who doesn’t exist.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” I grab the antiseptic-soaked gauze and brace for the sting.
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “I asked when you’ll be ready to move. Scar’s refusing to take me with him unless you’re coming too.” Her lips twist into something resembling a pout. “It’s like he’s afraid I’ll break him or something. Anyway, can you make Moscow happen sooner? He’s missing me.”
I bite back a groan that has nothing to do with the antiseptic now burning through my wound. “Kat, we’ve been over this a dozen times.”
“Yes, but you know how Scar gets. He’s all discipline until he snaps. He wants me, he just needs to get to that tipping point, and then—”
“If he wants you,” I cut in, harshly, “he knows where to find you.”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m sick of waiting. The quickest way to get him to want something is . . .” Her voice trails off.
If I want it too.
The unspoken words hang between us.
That has never been a problem before. Scar is my shadow. It’s expected that his taste mirrors mine.
“Of all the men in the world,” I mutter, adjusting the bandage, “you choose a fucking Rubik’s cube, Kat.”
She lets out a bitter laugh. “I certainly have the brain for it.”
“True,” I mutter, securing the gauze with a wince. With an IQ of 162, Kat’s a broken genius who can’t handle normal. The more unhealthy it is, the more she craves it.
The rustle of leaves fills the silence as I grab the clean shirt draped over the back of the chair.
“ You know,” Kat says quietly, “sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if this chemistry was between you and me.”
“Really,” I scoff.
Her eyes gleam. “You would have no hangups showing what you felt. God, you can’t mask your emotions for shit.”
A rough chuckle escapes me. “That’s not a good thing.”
“No, it’s not. Anyway, Scar would never let it happen. He’d never let me ‘corrupt’ you.”
I rear back. “What do you mean?”
She tilts her head, her voice turning sly. “Imagine if you started acting like you wanted to fuck me. Now, that’d be something.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Kat,” I snort.
“Hear me out,” she presses, her tone almost playful now. “Okay, maybe not exactly fuck me, just . . . pay me a little more attention. Phonecalls. Lingering looks. You know Scar does what you do.”
“Leave me out of your twisted mind games, Katarina,” I snap. “If you want Scar—”
“Go get him myself, I know. Ugh, Pretty, you’re so fucking boring, you know that?” she hisses, her irritation only thinly masking the calculation in her baby-blue eyes.
Then, casually, she switches subjects and drops the grenade. “Speaking of mind games . . . what about your little secret, Luna Romano?”
My spine stiffens. “What about her?”
“Does Scar know you’re obsessed with her?”
Obsession is starting to feel mild. Try compulsion.
I huff out a humorless chuckle. “I’ll let him decide since they’re hanging out right now.”
Kat sucks in a breath, her eyes widening in alarm. “What the fuck, Cade! Why would you take her to San Diego?”
I g esture at my side. “Because I’m not invincible, and Scar is the only one I trust to protect her right now.”
Her expression twists with disdain. “Well, you decided to go off script, playing Bonnie and fucking Clyde and caught a few bullets. Your problem. Don’t drag my relationship into it.”
I bite back a laugh at the idea of what she calls a “relationship” with Scar.
“You’d better mask how you feel for that woman,” her voice drips venom. “Or I swear to God if Scar goes after her—”
“You’ll do what?” I growl.
Kat flinches, instantly recoiling as if I slapped her. Her eyes soften, filling with conflicting shadows of need and self-loathing. Those shadows that years of therapy haven’t erased.
Fuck. This is the reason why I kill. That look.
“I know what I’m doing, Kat.” I gentle my tone.
Her smirk returns, confidence sliding back into place. “Pretty, you lost every sense of direction a few weeks ago. I’ll save you the embarrassment of telling you exactly when.”
The screen goes dark before I can respond.
I sit back and close my eyes against the tension thrumming through me, but the silence only amplifies the chaos in my head. This is beyond fucked up, only I can’t figure out who’s more twisted—Kat, Scar, or me.
I should keep my distance, just until tomorrow. What happened by the pickup—losing control like that—can’t happen again. If Scar catches even a flicker of weakness, Luna could become a fixation. Or worse, a target. And Kat? Kat would lose her shit.
I picture Luna’s face when she realizes I’m avoiding her. She’ll be confused. Pissed. But I’ll make her understand—tomorrow. We’ve got all day to make up for one night of separation.
The thought of finally sinking into her tight, demanding heat again makes my blood simmer. My hands curl into fists against the table as my resolve wavers dangerously.
And then . . . Fuck it.
Not even two minutes later, I push off from the table and head downstairs.
“. . . playing with you.” I halt at the door as I overhear Scar’s smooth, seductive baritone. I can’t see them, but they sound like they’re on the couch.
“Oh, I don’t mind being played with at all,” Luna’s voice is equally teasing. “Besides, he just needs to drop me off at a safe place. Then I’m sure I’ll be nothing but a blip in his rearview mirror.”
“A safe place?” Scar’s voice sharpens. “Did he say where?”
“No. Not that I expected him to,” she replies. “Isn’t that how WITSEC works?”
My mouth curves into a faint smile, unsure whether to feel proud of her quick thinking or worried about how convincingly Luna lies. I take another step, and the back of Scar’s head becomes visible.
Scar immediately inclines his head and nods twice, his subtle way of showing me he knows I’m around. While it works great for us on jobs, I’ve never understood how Scar can sense me. Or move so stealthily.
“WITSEC.” He scoffs. “Sure. Let’s call it that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luna challenges.
“ Look around, darling. You’re in my home. Cade is wounded, which means there’s only one person who can keep you safe right now.”
“And that’s you?”
“Ouch. Have you seen me? I work just like him—only I’m the better rested and significantly less stabby version.”
A laugh bubbles out of her, and she retorts. “Something tells me that last part just isn’t true.”
Scar chuckles. “Can you just let me have my moment, Luna?”
“Okay, Boy Scout.” Luna teases.
“So, when you said you didn’t mind being played with just now . . .”
She cuts in, “I meant your brother.”
“Great. Just making sure I wouldn’t get tackled by someone half my size. It’d be embarrassing, to say the least.”
Luna’s throaty laugh is a little too quick. Too brittle. And I’ve heard enough. I step fully into the room to find Scar sitting next to Luna, one arm casually draped over the back of the couch, the other cradling a drink.
Typical Scar—making himself comfortable in my life. My jaw tightens as a cold, bitter regret twist through me, edged with something darker.
I created this. Made him this way. I gave him everything.
And now it’s time to start taking it back.
Our gazes lock in a silent exchange. Scar’s easy smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and I don’t miss the tension in his jaw. He wants her. Badly.
But it’s Luna who holds my attention, her body language giving her away. She’s pretending to be relaxed, but there’s a simmering tension in the way her hands rest on her knees, the set of her shoulders.
She ’s angry. Good. Get in line, baby. I want to kick my own ass for cloning myself, too.
“You okay, Luciana?” I move to the bar, deliberately turning my back on the sight of her with Scar.
The clink of ice against the glass is a small punctuation in the charged silence as I feel both their eyes bore into the back of my head. The burn of the whiskey barely registers as I take a sip.
“How’s your wound?” Her voice is suddenly closer than I expected.
I turn to find her standing just a few feet away, an unsettling intensity in her gaze.
Before I can answer, Scar’s voice interjects, “I told you, Luna, don’t worry about him. Doc’s coming tonight to get it looked at.” His tone is smooth, but there’s a possessive edge.
Luna doesn’t spare him a glance, instead she closes the distance between us. “Let me see.” Her fingers are already lifting the hem of my shirt, her touch deliberately lingering on my abs.
I put my drink down and grasp her wrist, feeling the tension coil tighter in her. “It’s fine.”
She presses closer to me. “No. I want to see it. Take off your shirt.”
My jaw tightens. “Later.”
“Now, Cade.”
I shoot her a warning look which she returns, hers sparking with challenge. And rage.
Scar’s smooth voice cuts into our silent battle of wills. “I’d tread carefully, Luna. Pushing him never ends well.”
Fuck. Scar is watching my every move, dissecting every glance.
“ Princess—”
But she’s apparently done asking because, with a fierce look, she crosses her arms, grabs the hem of her top and pulls it over her head, revealing the creamy expanse of her curves.
“Whoa!” The sight of her hits me like a punch. Her full breasts push against the cups of her white lace bra, which does nothing to hide the sterling silver bars glinting within the dusky circles of her areolae.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I grab her arm and yank her to me as a primal urge seizes me. She’s pushing every fucking boundary.
She pushes me off and takes two steps back, her hand moving to the strap of her bra, fingers poised at the hook as her voice rings out, loud and defiant. “Take off your shirt, Caden.”
All common sense rushes to my cock. I hear her loud and clear. She wants me—not a symbol, not my shadow, not Scar. Me. And she wants me now.
This time, I don’t hesitate. I fist my shirt and tear it off, feeling the acute burn of Scar’s gaze on us.
“What do you want, Luciana?” My voice is rough with desire, even though I already know. She wants to prove something to Scar. It’s the same thing the beast in me wants.
And so when she shoots me a sultry smile and purrs, “I just want to give you something for the pain,” I wrap my hand around her throat.
“This isn’t the time or place,” I whisper, a final attempt—a plea—to stop us hurtling over the cliff.
Her eyes dare me to stop her as she palms my cock, her bold touch enough to torch the last shred of my control.
“I disagree,” she whispers back, squeezing my glans so well I have to bite back a groan. “I think this is exactly the right time and place, Caden.”
“Luciana—”
She drops to her knees, and her hands reach up, nails slowly dragging across the contours of my abdomen.
Fuck, I can’t think when she puts her hands on me, and the response she pulls out of me isn’t something fit for an audience, let alone one as twisted as Scar. I should pull her back up and take her behind a closed door, but the temptation of letting this disaster play out crushes my restraint.
Scar watches, his jaw tight as he swirls his drink absently, but his knuckles blanch on the cushions as Luna puts her face right into my crotch and inhales deeply, then exhales on a loud, lusty moan.
Christ. That’s it. With one hand, I undo my belt, yank it out, and toss it on the floor. My other hand gathers her hair and twists it tight around my fist. “Take out my cock.” I command.
She obeys with suddenly shaky fingers, undoing my buttons, then sliding down the zipper. And then she pulls me free.
Scar shifts in his seat, his expression carefully blank, but there’s a rabid fire in his eyes that tells me he’s far from indifferent to what’s unfolding.
“Open your mouth.”
I watch her lick her lips and slacken her jaw as I bring her closer, stopping just a hairbreath from her open mouth.
As if she can’t wait to have my cock fed to her, she shuffles forward on her knees, and her pink tongue darts out to tease my slit, making my fists clench. Then, moaning, she drags the flat of her tongue all the way from my balls up to my crown, swirling around my swollen, throbbing glans.
“Fuck, Luciana,” I growl, the sight of her almost too much to bear as she takes me into the wet heat of her mouth.
My head falls back as tingles race along my spine. She’s not even sucking me yet, and I’m already gritting my teeth against the urge to blow my load .
How the fuck is she so good at driving me insane?
Her lips wrap around the head of my cock, and after a few tentative pulls, she starts to suck hard enough to make stars explode behind my eyelids. I groan, rocking my hips forward, seeking more of her slick heat. The sound of her gags spikes up my arousal.
“So fucking good, baby, just like— Fuck!” I shout as she takes me deep, past the resistance in her throat.
My other hand joins the one tangled in her hair, and I pull her right against me as the animal in me takes over, not stopping until she’s more than halfway down my cock.
She looks up at me with eyes wide with lust, watering, but she doesn’t pull away. Her heat, her tightness, and her submission send a toe-curling pleasure through me until I make myself withdraw so she can breathe. I stare in fascination as strings of saliva drip from my cock to her plump lips.
She takes a few gasps and then is about to pick up where she left off, and fuck if her eagerness for me doesn’t have my balls drawing up tight.
“Take it easy,” I growl out between clenched teeth.
Luna’s dark, watery gaze meets mine, and she slowly shakes her head. “No, Caden. You don’t want easy. You want to show the world who I belong to.”
She’s reading me as accurately as if I were behind a transparent glass. It should unnerve me to be seen this clearly, but instead, decadent satisfaction fills me.
I did this. I let her in. I taught her to see beyond my mask and read me like a book.
And then my thoughts fracture as she slides my cock between her lips, not stopping until I’m deep inside her throat. Over and over I hold her head steady, letting her muscles milk the fuck out of me before withdrawing then plunging in again.
It ’s messy, noisy with the savage wet sounds of my cock kissing her throat and my own desperate groans. I can feel my orgasm building, the pressure tightening in my loins.
My head falls back as my breath leaves me in loud moans and ragged gasps. Suddenly, my eyes collide with Scar’s, and I sense a silent question in his shocked gaze. He’s never seen me unravel like this, and I imagine it’s something he can’t unsee.
Luna might be on her knees, but it’s unmistakable who is submitting here.
Every line of Scar’s rigid body tells me he wants to be here. Taking my place.
Taking her place. The dark thought hits me out of nowhere.
“Mine!” I growl into the room as I feel myself at the knife edge of orgasm, all my muscles tensing. But it’s Luna’s eyes, the way she watches me, demanding I hold nothing back, that shoves me beyond the point of no return.
My climax hits with a force that wrenches a garbled cry of her name out of me, my arm blindly seeking purchase against the bar top to hold up my weakening knees.
My hand knocks over my glass of whisky, and it shatters on the polished floor, but neither of us notices. Pleasure shoots out of my cock and sprays her throat in endless pulses of cum. She swallows it down eagerly, her eyes never leaving mine. Wanting my essence on her dewy skin, I withdraw and spill the rest of my cum on her gorgeous face.
The aftershocks of pleasure are blinding, and for a moment, I lose myself in the raw, unfiltered sensation of Luna.
The fog lifts and I catch sight of Scar. He’s now on his feet, the ice in his glass clicking from his now trembling hand.
“Wow,” he mouths, but there’s more than awe in his gaze—there’s need radiating off him like a forcefield. He wants her.
I j erk my head toward the door, relishing the sick satisfaction settling over me.
Scar drains his glass and sets it down with a soft clink, meeting my eyes one last time. There’s the signature cold glint in his eyes, but the smirk on his lips is so much like mine. He knows that another line has been drawn.
My Secrets. My Family. And now, my woman. Scar understands this is something else I’ll never let him have however much he wants.
Without a word, he turns and leaves the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and just like that, the air shifts.
It’s just us now.
When I look down, I find Luna watching me, her lips curled in a satisfied smile. She doesn’t say a word, but the fire in her eyes says enough.
She knows what she’s done to me—to Scar—and she’s damn proud of herself.