If The Shoe Fits (Some Girls Do It Book 8)

by May Sage

She couldn't help but tease him. "So, she's the dragon chasing away all the gold diggers?"

  "Hardly." Cade shook his head. "A few years ago, maybe. Now, Mother and Olivia are in league. They don't care if I bring home a gold digger, as long as they get grandbabies. You can expect to be asked how many children you'd like, and whether you're planning on home schooling, or have a private school in mind."

  "Got it. Let's run." She had been successful in avoiding that line of questioning from her own parents for a few years—at the moment, their principal target was Cassie, given the fact that she was married. Occasionally, her mother reminded her that her clock was ticking, and she needed to think about the future—whatever that meant. No way was she letting a perfect stranger corner her.

  Helene grabbed Cade's sleeve and led him out of the hall, into the entryway, and then to the library, right next to the sitting room where Cassie received guests downstairs. She closed the door behind them, breathing out in relief. At least until she turned, and realized she'd locked herself in with a seriously hot man. Helene bit her lip. She'd truly just wanted to avoid Olivia's line of questioning. But now, she'd cornered herself into another situation. One she wasn't entirely averse to, she realized.

  "Nice place," he said. He was looking around. Maybe he didn't care about being alone with her.

  "Yeah. They don't have a lot of books. Just the occasional signed paperback and first edition. Cassie and Carter mostly read ebooks, these days. They just wanted a nice place to sit down and do it together. In the winter, they light the fireplace." She was rambling, and she knew it. Cade was making her nervous in a way no man had for a long time.

  "That sounds cozy."

  She bobbed her head. "Yeah. I kind of feel like an intruder every time I'm in here with them. Cassie sits on the recliner, Carter on the sofa. The way they look at each other makes me feel like they'd be doing something entirely different if I wasn't there."

  Cade turned to face her, intrigued. "You spend a lot of time here?"

  She sighed. "My apartment burned down a couple of weeks ago, so at the moment, I live here." She shrugged. "Not for long. I'm looking for a new place. You know how the rental market is in the city, though." Or maybe he didn't know.

  "Ah. Hence your opinions on insufficient salaries in the face of rising market prices."

  Helene glared. "My opinion was the same before my place was set on fire, thank you very much."

  He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm sure it was."

  The silence that set around them wasn't comfortable at all; it was electric. His unnerving attention seemed to dissect her, analyzing everything about her. She filled it with white noise, only to avoid the full weight of the chemistry in the air.

  "You wouldn't believe the creeps on the roommate websites, offering free rent for services." She made air quotes at the last words, and pretended to gag. "Then, there are the studios smaller than this library that still cost thousands of dollars per month. It's a nightmare. I might have to look in Brooklyn or Queens, but the commute is going to be killer."

  "Have you thought of asking Cassie for help? She could buy and rent it out to you for a decent price."

  Helene made a face. "She's helping enough by letting me stay here until I find somewhere. I'd never ask her to make an investment like that just for me. Not when she could rent it out for twice as much to someone else."

  "Then I believe we found your fatal flaw, Helene."

  "What, wanting to stand on my two feet like an adult?"

  "You can call it that." He took a step toward her, bent down, and said, lower, "But I'll call it pride." He saw her too clearly for someone who had known her for just an hour. Helene lifted her chin.

  "Cassie's my little sister. I shouldn't need her help at all."

  He shrugged. "But you do. And you're not asking. You'll stand alone with your head held high, come what may. Your parents may have been clairvoyant when they named you Helene."

  She snorted. "Yeah, well, my sister is Cassandra, and she’s pretty far from a priestess of Apollo. I'm just going to guess they liked the sound of the names."

  "Be that as it may, your name suits you to a T."

  "Yeah, right." She rolled her eyes. "Isn't Helene supposed to be blonde?"

  "In Hollywood movies, perhaps. I haven't seen many blonde Mediterranean, though. It's a bit like Jesus is always portrayed as a Caucasian guy, rather than a Middle Eastern Jew. Cultural appropriation at its finest."

  Helene chuckled. "You truly do have an answer for everything, don't you?"

  "So do you." He had a point. She couldn't help it, though—he challenged her like no one else. "My father owns an apartment complex in TriBeCa. I can check if there are availabilities."

  "No, thanks." The refusal was fast on her lips. He laughed, like he'd expected it.

  "See? Pride."

  "I don't like owing favors to strangers." She didn't doubt that she couldn't afford whatever rates his father charged, and she wasn't about to let him broker a deal.

  "Or to anyone," he guessed. Rightly. "See? Pride."

  "Common sense," she shot back.

  "Mmh."

  If she wasn't mistaken, he liked her answer, though. He wouldn't have liked for her to owe him any more than she would have. "You're awfully nice," she noted. "You know, for a stranger. One might think you have ulterior motives."

  "How so? We've already established that I'd very much like to fuck you, one day. My motives aren't hidden."

  He said it ever so smoothly, naturally. She could only gape. "You're one of a kind."

  "Here's your secret, Helene." He took another step, closing the distance between them. "You like it."

  And then, he kissed her.

  Helene couldn't remember the number of guys she'd kissed in her life. It was a fairly decent list. The occasional club night stands, Tinder dates, and the handful of failed relationships she could boast of. Some of them had been decent kissers. None like this. His mere touch was enough to make her insides explode in a thousand butterflies. His touch was fire. His hand grazed the sensitive skin of her arms and rested on her shoulder, keeping her close. Not close enough. She ran her fingers through his dark curls, and clung to him like a lifeline. She didn't ever want to let go. Cade practically growled against her lips before devouring her hungrily, deepening their maddening kiss. She couldn't get enough. She protested when he finally moved to let her breathe. "I need more." She was practically whining. Cade's dark eyes flashed with something so primal she had to suppress a shiver. His thumb ran along the line of her mouth.

  "We're in a library, in your sister's house." His voice was hoarse, harsh. "There are hundreds of people right next door. If you don't behave, I'm going to give you exactly what you're asking for, regardless." She did the only thing she could think of: she opened her mouth and licked his thumb, keeping her gaze on him. Now, he looked furious. Ravenous.

  "Promise?" Helene asked, with a teasing smile.

  "You're a special brand of trouble, Franklin." Then, thankfully, he was done talking.

  Cade

  Whatever was going on, Cade was fairly certain he wasn't in charge. Not of his own actions, and certain not of hers. He'd kissed her to make a point. To show her that he saw past her bullshit, her bravado. That he saw their mutual attraction and wanted to see where it went. Maybe he'd kissed her to throw her off balance, as she'd been so proficient at doing to him all evening. It was supposed to be nothing more than a taste, a simple touch. They were at a party, in her sister's place, inside an unlocked room. Someone could burst in at any time. They had to stop. They had to think clearly. They had to—

  But hell if he was going to be the one interrupting their mind-blowing, soul-altering connection. And by the sound of it, Helene wasn't likely to either.

  Good.

  Never had a skin felt so soft against his, or so electrifying. His fingers trailed her arm, and gripped her delicate shoulders. Finally finding the will to leave her mouth, Cade kissed her r
ight there, on her collarbone. Helene threw her head back, giving him access to the rest of her neck. He spotted a swirling line drawn on her skin, and his hands moved of their own volition to run along the tattoo. The fabric of her dress was in the way. He couldn't have that. He needed to see it. He needed to touch it.

  "Wings?" Cade could hardly recognize his voice, demanding and filled with hunger.

  "Why don't you find out?"

  The damn tease slowly turned, offering her back. Cade bit his lips, lowering the side zip. The blue gown slid along her curves, and settled on her hips. Her bare back was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen in his life. The design of a raven in flight took up the entire right side. Hard as a rock, he felt his length pulse, pushing against his pants.

  "What does it mean?" he whispered, hands slowly caressing the bird, simply because he couldn't help himself. He had to touch her. He had to feel her skin.

  "Can't a woman get a pretty tattoo for no reason at all?" she challenged.

  "She certainly could, but you didn't." He didn't know why he was certain of it. "Tell me."

  She didn't want to, that much was clear. Instead of pushing her, Cade grasped her hips and tugged her toward him, until she was flush against him, feeling just how mad she made him. He rubbed his length over her, his mouth returning to her skin, settling on her neck, then her ear.

  He wrapped his lips over the curve of the scapha and sucked at it. A surprised shriek escaped her lips. He felt her writhe, struggling to free herself from his grip, trembling. Cade smirked, and let her go.

  She spun around, staring at him. "How the fuck…what did you do!" she demanded, shocked.

  Her widened eyes settled on his lips, and he could see heat color her cheeks and neck.

  He had her, and she knew it. "Tell me about the raven, and I'll do it again."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Seriously. The ear thing is creepy. How the hell did it feel…" She didn't have to finish that statement.

  Cade shrugged. "It's funny how much we can learn about the human body, when we care to discover ways to actually pleasure people. We have so many erogenous zones, tragically often discarded."

  Slowly, softly, he lifted her hand to his mouth, turned it around when it reached his face, and settled his lips on her inner wrist. Then, he sucked it, hard, before kissing the spot, licking it clean.

  Helene breathed out a moan.

  Cade let go of her hand. "The raven."

  She groaned. "You're not playing fair."

  "Tell me. You can ask whatever question you want after."

  That was as fair as he was capable of being with her.

  She huffed. "Fine. My best friend was in a relationship with a guy all through college. I told her he was a dick, because he made advances on me, but she didn't believe it. One day, I got to their place, found him in bed with their roommate. I took a picture to show her. She didn't take it well. I got the raven after."

  That made sense, but… "Why a raven?"

  She shrugged. "I thought you knew your mythology. Apollo sent a white raven to spy on his lover. When the raven brought back news that Coronis had been unfaithful, Apollo was furious. He burned it, and the feathers turned black."

  The tale of betrayal uncovered another layer of the mystery that was Helene Franklin. He intended to unwrap every layer, one by one. And if what it took was sexual bribes to make her open up, all the better.

  "What happened to that friend of yours?"

  "She's married to the guy now. They have two kids. She doesn't talk to me, but according to a mutual friend, he's screwing his secretary."

  He couldn't help a laugh. "And when you learned a valuable lesson about human nature, you marked it on your skin."

  He wanted to know if she had other tattoos. He wanted their stories. And he'd have them.

  "Don't you?"

  Cade grinned. "My friends and I got drunk in Greece, and had the same tattoo done on our arms. It means nothing—other than the fact that I make poor choices when inebriated."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Why did you think mine had a story, then?"

  "Because it's beautiful, and specific. Hardly the type one gets at one in the morning in Mykonos."

  She conceded his point. "My turn, then. How did you learn the ear thing?" She paused. "Or the wrist thing, for that matter."

  She turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest. His eyes darted to her front, spotting another trail of ink under her breast.

  He had a hard time lifting his eyes back to hers, or taking in her question.

  "Distracted?" she asked knowingly.

  Teasing little witch.

  "Ever so slightly." The understatement of the century. "And I took classes."

  Helene gapped. "Classes?"

  He grinned. "Some men believe they're God's gift to women simply because they're rich, or attractive. I'm close enough to my sister to know that most women fake orgasms just to get it over with. It bothered me when I was young—I didn't have enough experience to trust I was a good lover. And I wanted to be. So, I looked up courses, and signed up. A couple of my friends made fun of me for it, but they joined in, too."

  "There are sex classes," she mused, surprised. "How old were you when you attended?"

  "That was about eleven years ago." He tilted his head. "I must have been twenty-three or so."

  A frown creased her eyebrows.

  "What is it?"

  "Maybe I suck at sex. I've never had classes. I mean, maybe I think I'm good, and I'm not."

  He laughed out loud. "You remember what I told you about the waltz, right?"

  Cade trailed the back of his hand on her crossed arms, barely grazing the curve of her breast.

  She shook her head.

  He leaned in, speaking against her neck. "You can let me lead."

  He seized her left wrist, and gently pulled it away from her torso, freeing one of her breasts. She lowered the other arm without prompting. He kissed the side of her jaw softly in silent praise before lifting her arms over her head, capturing them in one hand. Only then, when she was pinned against the bookshelf, did he return to her addictive mouth. He was done with softness, with teasing. His kiss was hungry, demanding, maybe a little desperate. His free hand ran from her neck to her stomach, then back up, settling on the curve of her breast. His thumb circled her areola, and pressed on her hard nipple. He deepened their kiss when she moaned, fucking her mouth.

  One of her legs lifted to circle his hips. Abandoning her taut breast, he held on to her legs, and rubbed his rock-hard cock along her, through their clothes.

  "Fuck!"

  "Not quite, but we will." He fully intended to deliver on that promise, regardless of where they were.

  "Confident, are you?" she challenged.

  He liked her sass. Cade smirked against her lips. "Do you want to stop me? You can, you know. All it takes is one word. You don't even have to speak. Push against my chest. One sign, and we're done."

  He was a hundred percent certain she wouldn't—couldn't—pull the brake. Helene was as enthralled in their wild spell as he.

  "That's what I thought." Letting go of her hands, he got to his knees, throwing her bent leg over his shoulder. "And I'm going to show you why you made the right decision, sweetheart."

  Cade lifted her long skirt, tenting it over his head. Fuck. She wasn't wearing any underwear. He hadn't expected to see her bare for him. Smiling, he kissed his way up her leg, lingering behind her knees, on the inside of her thighs, then her hips—everywhere except where she wanted him most. She squirmed, whimpering in need and frustration. At long last, he moved a finger to the apex of her thighs, along her outer lips. She was so, so soaked.

  "Cade! Please."

  He wasn't done teasing. He wanted to take his sweet time exploring her. She bucked against his hand when he pressed her clit, and slid along her slit to curve a finger inside her.

  "You're so wet for me."

  "And you're an asshole."

  He laughed, before kissing
her right on her clit, then pulling his tongue and flicking it over the engorged nub. She breathed hard, in and out, her hips moving with him. A second finger joined the first. No longer in the mood for teasing, he moved with a purpose, hard, fast, faster when she screamed his name. He sucked her clit, blew on it, nipped at her flesh, fucking her with his hand. Her legs trembled around his shoulders, her pelvis raised as high as she could. She was close, so incredibly close. Cade's other hand pinched either side of her clit while he kept sucking at it, and she lost it, going lax against him. Cade unburied himself from her clothes, to watch her as she came down from the high. He could only stare, satisfied to watch her so very happy, sated. Sweat ran down her forehead, and her pupils were dilated.

  Helene had been beautiful to him from the start, but right then, she was a goddess. He wanted to commit this image to memory. Take a picture of it. Her perfect tits with dark, pointed nipples. Her gaping mouth, and those eyes filled with pure pleasure.

  After her breathing went back to normal, she pushed a wet, wayward curl away from her forehead, and moved to get to her knees.

  "My turn." She lowered the zipper of his pants, making her intention clear. Her hands moved to fiddle with his belt.

  Cade laughed. "I don't think so." He was harder than he could ever remember being, but he didn't want her mouth. And he certainly didn't want her to feel like she needed to return the favor. He got to his feet and cupped her chin, his resolution almost faltering when he saw her down on her knees before him, her beautiful green eyes fixed on his.

  She frowned. "But I want to."

  Maybe she did. Maybe she thought she had to. "How about next time? I want to feel that beautiful pussy of yours now, sweetheart."

  Her eyes widened again. "Oh."

  Helene

  Helene was trembling, her legs barely able to support her weight. Her poor head was filled with cotton, floating away from reality. What the hell had that been? She was shattered, in pieces, entirely sated, and Cade hadn't even fucked her. Not really. Fucked with her? Definitely. The things the man did with his hands and mouth should be illegal. In fact, she would have sworn it was probably illegal in parts of the world.