One hand splays over my stomach, and his fingers swipe over my bud. “Come for me, baby,” he pants.
“Yes,” I hiss. “Please don’t stop.”
“Never,” is his response. And it sets me off, the surety of it striking something in me that causes an eruption.
“Cade!” I scream his name this time. I don’t just call it. I let loose, and god, it feels incredible.
We’re a tangle of moans and taut muscles. His fingers keep moving, but his hand lands on my shoulder and clamps me onto his body as his cock surges, twitching and throbbing.
He spills himself inside me as he whispers my name against my lips, and there’s something intensely personal about it. I’m trying to catch my breath. I told him I’d say thank you, and I want to keep all my promises to him. He’s seen too many broken ones in his life.
He crushes me to him in the wake of our orgasms. It feels like he wraps his entire body around me. I nuzzle in closer, with him still inside me, damp chest against my cheek, steely arms clutching me around my back.
I open my lips to say the words he wanted.
But it’s him who drops his cheek against my head and rasps, “Thank you.”
24
Cade
I wake up hot and hard.
And smiling.
Willa’s hair is in my face, and her breath is making my neck feel damp and sweaty. She’s sprawled her long limbs over mine and pressed her body so close that all I’d have to do is shift her a few inches and she’d be lying right on top of me.
I’m not especially comfortable. And I fucking love it.
I always kind of chalked up my dry streak to aging, to being past it at thirty-eight. I know I’m not old but I feel old some days. Worn out and lacking the energy it takes to start a new relationship. Too tired to deal with the highs and the lows and the inevitable drama.
But Willa Grant invigorates me.
After having the best sex of my life, I dragged her to the kitchen and fed her. I made us pancakes. We talked. We laughed. But when she smudged a bit of syrup on her lips, I couldn’t resist licking it off. And that turned into me getting her on all fours, right on the hardwood floor in the kitchen. Which turned into a shower. Which turned into slamming her into the tile wall until we both came again.
She told me she couldn’t take anymore, but when I yanked her into my bed with me, I disappeared beneath the covers for one more taste. And it turns out she’s a big fat liar because she absolutely took more.
I should be exhausted right now, but apparently my dick didn’t get the memo. Because he’s up and ready to defile the twenty-five-year-old sprawled out in my bed. Again.
“Down, boy,” I murmur, reaching to adjust myself in my boxers. Willa stirs when I move, but my opposite arm comes around to the dimples at the small of her back, pressing her against me.
I don’t care if it’s physically uncomfortable. Having Willa close is comforting. It’s like having Luke under the same roof. I know everyone is safe.
I wish I could say I felt the same way about Luke’s mom. But I don’t. The only times Talia crosses my mind are when I’m feeling wounded or insecure. When that bitter taste crawls up my throat and I think about the years I wasted trying to make things work with her when deep down I didn’t want them to.
The worst part is, I can’t bring myself to regret it because I have Luke. And he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Willa moves her head to my chest, sliding her fingers through the sparse hair. “Shh. Go back to sleep. I’m having the best dream.”
The thought that Willa is another of the best things in my life crops up, but it scares me. It feels too soon. She feels too young. It feels too . . . impossible.
“What are you dreaming about, Red?” I lift my head and drop a kiss to her silky hair.
I feel her chest shake a little, her breasts pressing against me. Even the metal of her piercings is warm, because of course she sleeps naked. “That my hot boss banged my brains out last night.”
I shake my head.
“No, for real. You should see this fucking guy. All dark and broody with a massive dick.”
“Willa.”
“These big, calloused hands to go with his big, round ass—”
“Woman.” I flip her onto her back, the sound of her giggle music to my ears. I lie on top of her, propped on my elbows. She’s got this playful smile on her face and creases on her cheek from the pillowcase. She looks like a sleepy, creamy, green-eyed goddess.
I shake my head at her again. I do that a lot. It used to be out of annoyance, now it’s more like . . . disbelief.