His finger dipped down to touch where we were joined, smearing some of the fluid there on my clit. I jerked in his arms, overly sensitive.
“No,” I breathed. “I can’t again.”
“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice dark as sin. “I want to feel your body reach that ecstasy again, watch your face when you come, and know I’m the one doing it to you.”
His touch was expert, knowing, and just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle any more, he would change it—harder, softer, faster—until I was panting in his arms. Impossibly, he grew hard again inside me. Sooner than I would have believed possible, I was coming again, more intensely than before.
Kade’s moan was one of both pleasure and pain, then he was rearranging us, laying me on my back and moving my legs up until they rested, one on each of his shoulders. He entered me again, his hips driving hard as he leaned his weight on his hands, pushing my legs closer to my chest.
It was hard and fast, my positioning erotic and making me feel very exposed. He was deep inside me and his eyes were glued to mine, the look in them branding his possession and adoration. I couldn’t blink, couldn’t look away. The bond between us felt as though it were being forged in heat and sweat and flesh.
Only when his orgasm took him did he close his eyes, cries and gasps falling from his mouth in a moment of utter vulnerability. I watched, awestruck by how beautiful he was.
He collapsed next to me on the bed, sucking large gasps of air into his lungs. I couldn’t help a smile. So I’d finally found out what made Kade Dennon out of breath.
His eyes cracked open just a fraction and he pulled me closer to him, his arm heavy on my waist. Slanting his lips across mine, he gave me another deep kiss before resting his head on the pillow of my breasts, his eyes falling shut again.
“Love you,” he murmured, and I knew he was already half asleep.
I reached down and pulled the sheet up over us, though Kade was already out, and cradled him to me, my fingers running through his sweat-dampened hair. I felt content and safe, and I had no trouble finding my own way into slumber.
When next I woke, it was late morning. Kade was still out cold. I figured it would be a while before the booze he’d drunk would wear off. Getting out of bed, I grabbed Kade’s torn and discarded shirt off the floor and went to shower.
I stood under the streaming hot water for a long time, thinking. Hearing Kade tell me he loved me was shocking, overwhelming… exhilarating. I’d known we were friends, known for a while that he wanted to sleep with me, but I never would have known or guessed that he loved me… or that he’d ever tell me so.
But did I love him?
I didn’t think I had an answer for that question. I cared about him. A lot. I didn’t want to lose him. Making love with him had been… incredible. My body still tingled and I blushed at some of the things we’d done.
But… Blane.
It always seemed to come back to him. The guilt, the pain, the heartache, the betrayal. He was still controlling my life even though he’d pushed me from his. What did I have to offer Kade except being the wedge that would constantly drive him and Blane apart? And I couldn’t even tell Kade that I was no longer in love with Blane. I wouldn’t lie to him.
Kade certainly deserved more than his brother’s leftovers.
That cynical thought made me go still, the water streaming from my hair, over my shoulders and down my back.
The guilt I’d known I’d feel had returned and now threatened to swallow me whole. It hit me, really hit me, what we’d done.
What I’d done.
On autopilot, I got out of the shower and dried myself off. I couldn’t change the past, couldn’t change what had happened between Kade and me. And if I was really honest, I didn’t know that I wanted to. I could live with the guilt, but I didn’t know if I could have lived with turning away from the one chance I had to make love with Kade.
Nothing could come of it, I knew that. But one time with Kade, hearing him tell me how he felt about me—I wouldn’t trade it for anything. And when he left and I never saw him again, I’d have it to remember. I wouldn’t fight him leaving. It would be selfish of me to do that. The only way Blane and Kade were going to regain their trust in each other was if I wasn’t in either of their lives.
I pulled on a pair of the shorts I’d bought and found another shirt of Kade’s to wear. He was still dead to the world, so I ordered coffee and breakfast from room service.
I sipped my coffee and stared out the window at the Vegas Strip, which looked much different in the harsh light of the Nevada summer sun. What was I going to say to Kade when he woke? What would he say to me?
I heard the shower start in his bathroom and chewed a nail as I waited. I was as nervous as I’d been when I’d first met Kade, when his fallen angel good looks and the aura of danger emanating from him had overwhelmed me.
Kade emerged from the bedroom clad in jeans and an unbuttoned shirt, with bare feet. He walked toward me while toweling his hair dry. I couldn’t help my soft smile or the stutter of my heart when I saw him, memories of how he’d been last night flashing through my mind.
“Good morning,” I said cheerily, glad to see him despite my nerves.
Kade winced, glancing up at the windows and squinting. He didn’t answer, just grabbed his sunglasses off the dining table and put them on. Shuffling toward me, he sat down heavily on the couch.
“What time is it?” he asked.
I glanced at the clock. “Pushing noon.”
“Christ,” he muttered, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees while he rubbed his eyes under the sunglasses.
I shifted nervously in my chair. Was I supposed to say something? What were the rules for the morning after? Were we not supposed to talk about it?
“My head feels like it’s going to fall off my neck,” he grumbled.
“Well, that’s what happens when you drink too much,” I replied mildly.
Kade heaved a sigh and leaned back against the couch. I tried, and failed, not to stare at his chest.
“Sorry about last night,” Kade said. “I, uh, usually don’t drink that much.”
I frowned. Was he apologizing for being drunk—or for what had followed? “It’s fine,” I finally said.
“I didn’t act like an asshole, did I?”
I stared at Kade, an inkling of horror dawning. When I didn’t answer, he lifted his head to look at me.
“Did I?”
I swallowed. Hard. “You… don’t remember?”
He shook his head. “I remember us arguing, then I started drinking. That’s pretty much the extent of the replay.”
Stunned, I just gaped at him, the familiar ache in the center of my chest returning with a vengeance. My stomach gave a hard roil and I thought I might throw up.
“What?” he asked, the expression on my face seeming to clue him in on my dismay. “I said something, didn’t I.” He shook his head and rubbed his eyes again. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m a bastard, you know that. I didn’t mean it, whatever it was.”
I shut my mouth with a snap. I should be glad about this. Kade had just punched the reset button. Last night never happened. I was the only one who knew we’d made love, knew Kade had told me he loved me, and I didn’t have to tell a soul.
The thought made me want to cry.
“Um, no,” I said, pulling myself out of my stupor. “It’s fine. No worries.” I forced a fake smile. “You were drunk. People do and say all kinds of things when they’re three sheets to the wind.”
The ringing of Kade’s cell phone interrupted our conversation and I gladly got up to get more coffee. Anything to get a moment to compose myself, to realign my expectations and emotions with a reality I hadn’t expected.