by Dee Tenorio
She was still laughing when he got back.
…
She was purring again.
Cade opened his eyes, only the barest amount, because if this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up yet.
Nope, she was really there. Parked between his outstretched legs, black hair spilling over his belly and hips, her mouth wrapped around his cock. Purring.
Soft hands caressed his sack, gripped his shaft, and basically uncorked his brain. Or maybe that happened because her tongue wrapped around the head while she sucked him down. Then she drove down deeper, pushing him past the squeezing pressure at the back of her mouth…into her throat.
He said something unintelligible. Or maybe he yelled it, he couldn’t be sure. He just knew he grabbed a hold of her hair while she kept making that noise, vibrating around his cock. He tried to pull back, but she wasn’t having it. She followed, pushing him deeper still, rising once for a breath then taking him farther than before.
Vicious pleasure knifed down every single one of his nerve endings, searing in its intensity and he knew, just knew, if he didn’t get her off in the next half second he was going to die coming down her throat.
He yanked her up with a pop and a giggle, damn her, sending her flying up onto his chest hard enough to push the air out of them both.
Which didn’t stop her from laughing. “Awww, lover, I was just getting somewhere.”
He gripped her ass tight, steering her to a safe position higher on his belly. Unfortunately for him, she was hot and wet against his skin and his control skidded farther from his grip. “You have two-tenths of a second to find a condom or what you’ll be getting is pregnant.”
Her yelp—had to be from the threat of pregnancy because really, she should have known he’d shift his hand over that taut ass and sink his fingers into her pussy—wrestled a tight smile out of him. Well, that and the string of swear names she called him while simultaneously trying to reach the condoms at the foot of the bed and not shift too far from his fingers.
He knew she got them when she pulled off him. Quick as a flash, the latex rolled down his cock. “You sure you’re okay for this?”
Quite possibly the most painful question he’d ever asked in his life.
She sort of nodded, eyes closed as she sank all the way down his length.
His urgency didn’t fade, but for an endless moment, he could only stare at her. Passion-stained cheeks, lips still wet from sucking him, her hair falling wildly around her shoulders… She might be battered, but she was the most beautiful thing in the world and for this second, this single breath in time, she was his.
As if she could hear his thoughts, her eyes opened; sleepy and tempestuous. Challenging. He found himself rising to it, levering his torso up as far as he could, meeting her lips in a slow, almost chaste kiss. He cupped her face into his hand as their tongues met in careful, poignant exploration. It was a moment so perfect, so absolutely right, he knew it couldn’t last.
She shifted, her hips rocking lightly, and the moment disappeared beneath a tidal wave of need. Need to claim her. To please her. To love her.
He fell back to his elbows, pumping upward while she ground down. He couldn’t stop, each lift rougher, more desperate. Wild little cries bounced out of her, especially when he took hold of her hips and really started pounding into her. Her hands grasped her breasts, pulling at her nipples while her head fell back and her hair swung everywhere. It brushed the tops of his thighs and that was all it took. He ground as high into her as he could, while she screamed her orgasm, her body shuddering against him, around him, milking his cock of everything it had to give and his heart of all it had left inside it.
He let go, both of them breathing hard, eyes still closed, heartbeats still racing. Let go completely, because he had no way to hold it in any longer. She owned him, body and soul, broken spirit and sundered will. All he was. Forever.
“I love you, Trina,” he breathed the words like a harsh vow he could only hope wouldn’t send her running again. Because having her love back wasn’t the point.
The point was knowing he’d accepted his feelings for her.
That they would never, ever change.
Chapter Fourteen
Trina lay in the circle of Cade’s arms, his breath warm and soothing against her neck. For the better part of an hour, he’d been resting behind her as if everything in the world were finally at rights while she stared out into the shadows of the cabin, her mind whirring with thoughts she couldn’t stop.
Even in sleep, his strength, his very presence, made her feel safe, but she still couldn’t completely lower her guard. Not with the wind blowing and the trees scraping the roof, creating shadows through the window above the bed. She stared at the door, waiting, worrying that nature wasn’t the only one making the wood creak.
What if they had tracked her and she’d brought death to his door? It wasn’t likely. No one had been on her when she left the highway, and Cade had told her before that no one knew about this place. But she didn’t know where her phone was and she was terrified it had slipped from her pocket during that fight in her office. The phone was locked, and even if they cracked it, it could never lead Frank here. Nothing could, but she kept watch anyway. Unable to be lulled by the peacefulness and caught unawares again.
She’d held Cade while they touched, caressed, and just savored the intimacy of being together. Finally spent, he’d drifted off, leaving her to spoon herself against him and think. To think about how very close it all had come to being a completely different night. If Frank had had his way, she’d have been brutalized and probably beaten to death, just like Brynn. Shana would be dragged back to Marketta to pay for her betrayal with her blood and probably Jimmy’s, too.
Cade would be dead.
She swallowed now, the fear that had ridden her since the attack in the bar still strong enough to nearly strangle her. The only thing that mattered all the way here had been the hope that he was still alive. If he wasn’t in town, in his house, then he had to be at the cabin. It was the only logic she’d had left, watching from the shadows as the coroner wheeled a body bag out of the cinders that had once been Cade’s house. She told herself he couldn’t be dead, again and again, racing against the road itself and anything else foolish enough to get in her way. If she hadn’t remembered every conversation they’d ever had—played them over and over in her mind when the longing to be with him got too strong—she’d never have found her way up here.
Her hands tightened on his arms around her now. To find him in these dense woods, she’d followed the vague markers he’d mentioned. Two miles north of the junction. The little hill beneath the highest peak in the skyline. The sun rose right across his bedroom window, which meant it had to be on the east face of the mountain. Her heart was in her throat when she’d actually found the log home. She’d had to choke back tears at his cranky, oblivious cursing because of her desperate pounding on his door.
And when he’d actually opened it?
She hadn’t fallen from blood loss or pain, though she’d done her best to make him think so. The relief, God, the heart-filling relief at seeing his dark scowl and that swirl of hair falling over his forehead… There were no words. None at all.
All she had to do now was keep him in this cabin for another day, if not more. Thanks to a helpful trucker who’d lent her his phone, her commanding officer should have gotten the message she left and brought in the cavalry. Cade thought they still had to form a plan but the truth was, hers was already in action. DEA agents would be flooding Marketta along with the state police, ripping the place apart.
A second call to Daniel would alert him to keep a close eye on Shana, wherever he’d stashed her. With any luck, he would have cracked whatever was in the flash drive, but if he didn’t, she had enough penny-ante crap to put most of the MC behind bars. Not what they’d been hoping for when she’d been approached for this operation, but someone would flip. Not all of them would throw their lives down f
or Frank.
If Cade could be safe here until all that happened, she’d be his seducer, his damsel in distress, his anything-he-wanted. Anything at all, so long as Frank Carter had no chance to finish what he’d started with that fire.
Cade shifted, pulling her tighter against him, breathing deeply at her nape. Even asleep, he was so damn happy to have her with him. Would things have gone differently for him if she hadn’t been in Marketta? If she hadn’t given into her selfish desire for him, time after time? Had he stayed because of her or because of Rick? Most likely, both.
Well, he wasn’t going to die for them. She might be trapped in a corner until backup arrived, but she wasn’t without resources. Wasn’t without hope.
They’d both survived for a reason. They’d finally come together the way they should have from the beginning. On equal footing. Not the cop versus the convict. Not the agent with too many secrets and the man with too many regrets. Just Trina and Cade…
She lifted his heavy hand to her lips, pressing a determined kiss to his open palm. He wouldn’t remember that she’d done it. Wouldn’t hear her whispers as she made promises she wasn’t sure she could keep. Things like leaving the DEA to settle down with only a few guns and a Ducati to feed her wild side if he’d let her stay with him. Offering him a family, if he was ready for one, or they could wait. Whichever. She even promised to do his laundry every now and then. So long as he didn’t expect her to put it away. But in the midst of her imaginings about a happily ever after she didn’t deserve, one promise was real. One promise was a vow, never to be broken.
“I love you too, Cade. And I swear to you, I’ll kill every single one of those motherfuckers before I let them hurt you.”
The only question left, as she finally fell into troubled sleep, was whether or not she should tell him the rest of the truth.
…
If there were two things Cade knew about the sleeping woman spread out across his bed, it was that she was still keeping something from him and that she had an absolutely fantastic ass. He leaned back in his chair, drinking his coffee and watching her over the rim of his mug, trying to decide which one was of highest importance to him.
From this angle, he had to go with the latter.
Sometime in the night, she’d mostly shrugged out of his shirt, so her lightly tanned shoulders were bare. The shirt draped her back, rucked up here and there until the hem just made it over the curve of her butt. She had one knee drawn up, the other straight, and the sunlight from the rectangular transom-shaped window high above the bed created the most intriguing shadow where her thighs met. He’d spent twenty minutes already, contemplating his approach. Either he was going to walk up to the side of the bed and run his fingers along the crease at the very bottom of one succulent cheek, or he was going to climb up the foot of the bed and investigate that shadow. With his tongue.
Decisions, decisions.
“Stop looking at my ass.” The grumble from under the pillow was grouchy, yes, but that didn’t bother him nearly as much as the hand trying to pull the shirt hem farther down her body.
“Can’t.” He didn’t bother to stifle the chuckle that rose up his chest as her attempts to snag the shirt end turned into a flapping fight to get her fingers free from the loose cuff of the sleeve. Didn’t she realize when she arched to reach back, she was lifting up and giving him a view that could make an atheist believe in God? “It’s a male imperative. Man sees the Promised Land, nothing short of death is keeping him from staring at it.”
Her inelegant snort relayed her opinion. She gave a slow shimmy of her hips for him, though, before rolling onto her back and righting the folds of her shirt into some semblance of order. Unfortunately for him, that meant doing up the buttons and tucking the tails between her legs, killing his excellent view.
He went back to drinking his coffee, content to watch as she maneuvered herself into a sitting position against the headboard. Finger combing her hair did almost nothing for it, the black masses swirling down and around her shoulders. He let her get comfortable, still enjoying the simple fact that she was there. Especially since she was probably going to be pissed off in the next couple of minutes.
“So.” He refreshed his mug with the rich brew he could practically see her nose twitching for. “Which motherfuckers were you talking about?”
Slim black brows rose in question, her gaze darting to his for a whole second before skittering away. “Wh-what?”
A deep draught of the coffee, even if it burned the hell out of his tongue. What was a little burn in his mouth compared to the inferno in his gut at the knowledge that she was still lying to him? “You know, last night. When you were telling me you loved me, offering me your firstborn and years of freshly pressed laundry. Those motherfuckers.”
Her mouth pursed, but she still didn’t look at him. Just crossed her arms under the breasts she’d let him lick and suck and nibble all he wanted. Too bad the buttons were done up. “You heard that, huh?”
“I never miss an offer for laundry.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “You’re such an ass.”
Yes, yes he was. “Do me a favor. Tell me what’s really going on. I know you’re still keeping something from me.” And she’d better tell him what it was while he was still willing to let the omissions go.
He got a nervous glance for that comment. Good, then she caught the subtext. “Or else?”
“Or else I’ll find another way to get the answers out of you.” They still had a condom left. The prospect of making her beg him to use it made this secret-keeping thing infinitely less irritating.
The feminine harrumph just made him smile.
Her face flushed and her mouth fell open.
“What?” If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was blushing. Because he’d smiled?
“Nothing.” Her teeth clicked together. “But I think I liked you better when you were hard up.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get me back there soon enough. ‘Til then, talk.”
She finally glared at him, her gaze heating up with temper. “About what?”
“About whoever it is you think is coming after me.”
“I don’t think it, Cade. I know. Frank told me himself that you were already dead.”
“He’s a pathological liar.”
“When I got away from them, the first thing I did was get to your place, but it was…gone. Just a pile of burned wood and concrete.” Her voice shook, just the lightest tremor, but he felt the hurt in it. He knew then why she hadn’t taken any time to care for herself before finding him. He wouldn’t have rested if there was a chance she was alive, either.
“You were crazy to go there. They had to know it was the first place you’d head.”
She nodded, swallowing carefully. “It was stupid, I know. I just… I had to see for myself. They burned your house to the ground. Once it gets around that you weren’t the body I saw them pull from the cinders, they’ll be after you again.”
“Body?” The crack of the handle in his grip had him juggling the mug before all but dropping it on the table. He braced his hands on either side of it, staring down at the dark wood, willing the rage back into the box it had escaped. “Whose body?”
Her lower lip quivered. She shook her head, looking down at her knotted fingers. “I don’t know. I was so relieved it wasn’t you.”
Her whisper tightened his throat further, until all he could think about were the numerous weapons hidden all over the cabin, any of which would be more than capable of tearing Frank Carter into as many pieces as he could make.
“If you hadn’t left town… Why did you?”
“Transported a witness.”
She nodded. “Just blind lucky then.”
Blind luck, in his experience, wasn’t usually so generous. Every part of him wanted to walk over and wrap his arms around her again. Reassure her. But he would get sidetracked and he couldn’t let that happen again. He’d make it up to her later, but righ
t now, this was too important. “You said someone from the department cracked. Did Carter tell you who it was?”
“No, but I have my suspicions.” Bitter ones, from the sound of it.
“If you’re going to say Rick—” Trelane had his faults, but lack of loyalty wasn’t one of them.
“Someone gave us both up, Cade. The only one who knew the truth about me was Rick.”
He finally turned to her again. “Rick knew you were undercover?”
She nodded, trying like hell to keep some kind of expression off her face. “Not because I wanted him to. He was my contact in the department if anything went wrong. Well, things went fucking wrong, Cade, and Trelane was nowhere to be found. I had no warning. No backup.”
Something cold and repellant formed in Cade’s belly. Suspicion. Against his own friend. He hated it, but she was right on that score. No one else but Rick knew about their relationship. Still, something she’d said was pulsing in his mind, demanding he sort it out. Until he could, there was only one path he could follow. Facts. “Rick would die before he ever betrayed me. I won’t betray him, either.”
“Do you think I like suspecting him?”
“He knows how much you mean to me.” Knew exactly how much it was killing him to stick to his ethics about getting involved with a woman he might have to arrest. A woman he wasn’t sure he’d be able to haul into the jail. And not once had he hinted at the truth…
Cade shook off the niggling thought trying to form. “It’s not exactly Fort Knox over there. There are twelve deputies in that office and most of them come and go as they like. No one would say shit if they were digging through offices that didn’t belong to them. Knowing about your operation isn’t proof Rick blew your cover. And don’t forget the sheriff’s secretary has access to all the offices and desks.” The woman wasn’t known for her discretion. On the other hand, he couldn’t see Rick keeping any incriminating evidence in the office in the first place.