by Kristy Marie
“I know what I’m getting into, Major. Now, where were we again?”
The smile that tugs at his bottom lip should be memorialized. Bright and happy Cade Jameson smiles over the top of my pussy, and what he says against my clit has me coming on his pretty face.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’re going to the lake tomorrow,” Cade says, wiping off the bench where I shamelessly came not once, but twice. Guess Cade and I can now say we’ve added to the jizz in this room.
“Okay,” I say, sliding my underwear back on, a sinking feeling in my stomach. He’s letting me down easily. “Sue and I have a ton of orders to fill. Soak up some sunshine for me.” That didn’t sound clingy, did it?
Cade stops wiping down the bench and gives me a funny look. “I was hoping you would come with us.”
He was? Well, color me surprised. “You mean, you don’t want to offer me a ride home?” I tease with a smile. He rolls his eyes, tossing the towel into a nearby hamper before swaggering his fine ass up to me.
“No, smartass. I don’t want to take you home. I want to take you to our lake house. It’s my birthday.”
This motherfucker. My eyebrows battle with my hairline when I look at him like I might smack him. “Your birthday?”
He’s lucky he looks ashamed. Otherwise, I think I might have kneed him in the balls.
“Cade! Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs almost boyishly. “It’s not a big deal. I would rather not celebrate it, but Anniston insists on it.”
“Well, duh. It’s your birthday, not just another Saturday,” I argue with the idiot.
“Does that mean you’ll go with me?”
The blood must still be pumping below because he must be crazy to think I would turn down going anywhere with him when he’s asked me so earnestly. I press against him, my hand cradling the back of his neck, communicating what I need. He complies. At first, it’s just a peck, a sweet kiss meant to imply that I’m a sure thing, but when he hums, like he is actually worried I may say no to him, that is when I go for it. My tongue pushes at his lips, shocking them open. My hand holds his head to mine, my free hand yanking at the elastic on his shorts so hard he grunts. I’m about to plow this man right here on the floor.
Cade takes control, grabbing my wrist and halting any further molestation of his nether regions. “Soon,” he pants against me, his forehead resting on mine.
Soon. I can do soon.
If we’re being technical, I could wait years for Cade, but I don’t want to. I know we haven’t had long since the PTSD incident which will now be referred to as the night we never speak of, but things seem different since Cade admitted what happened with his team that night. He seems lighter. Less burdened by guilt. I can’t say for sure but he seems better than before. Happier even.
“Okay,” is all I respond with while stroking up and down his back in a soothing motion.
And that is that.
Cade’s birthday is this weekend, and I’m going to bang the hell out of him thirty-three times. One for each year and one to grow on.
Something tells me he won’t mind.
The next morning we all load up in our respective vehicles, Theo bitching more than anyone else. “I don’t understand why Killer and Tim both have to ride with us. Why can’t they ride with Mason?”
Hayes, perched on his motorcycle, hollers across the driveway, “Because we couldn’t fit all your crowns in one vehicle, princess.”
“All the luggage is Anniston’s,” he argues, turning around to glare at Anniston in the passenger seat of her SUV, casually doing something on her phone like no one is yelling next to her. “I told you we didn’t have to bring half the house. Put some of that shit back so Tim can ride with Mason and Vic.”
Everyone laughs, knowing good and damn well he planned on pulling over and christening every gas station they stopped at. Anniston and Theo revel in being exhibitionists. Having Tim and Killer in the car shoots that plan to hell.
Anniston barely graces him with a look before Hayes barks out, “Get in the car, Von Bremen. It’s only an hour and a half drive.”
Theo, irritated from shit not going his way this morning, flips off Hayes, turns on his heel, and flops down in the driver seat. His window inches down slowly and he turns his head in my direction. I laugh before he even says anything. “Jameson. I will ram your ass if you drive like a chick. I’m serious. I’m not in the mood for your Sunday driving. Keep your foot on the gas.”
Breck snickers next to me, all buckled in like she should be. “I’m gonna put my foot on something else if you keep running your mouth,” I promise, only slightly joking. The asshole in the car next to me rolls his window up, cutting off anything else I would say, and revs his vehicle before speeding off, sending gravel flying up behind his tires.
“Why is he so upset this morning?” Breck asks, the mint of her breath prominent in the small cab. “I heard him and Ans in the kitchen this morning. He can’t be pent-up already.”
I eye Breck curiously. “Did you watch them?”
She scoffs. “No.” But her hands fidget in her lap, telling a different story.
“You little liar,” I tease, not offended in the slightest.
“They were on the island!” she exclaims in a hurry, thinking it would upset me. “Right in front of the stairs.” Her face is flushed from embarrassment.
I throw the truck in drive and follow behind Mason and Hayes. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all watched them at some point. They aren’t discreet with their sex life.”
Breck nods, her face still pink. “Do you like public sex?” she asks with a hint of curiosity.
“No,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t. No one gets to see what’s mine.”
My answer seems to put her at ease, her shoulders loosening as she leans back against the seat. “Good, because I get stage fright.”
Her simple and honest answer puts a stupid grin on my face. “So you’re saying you aren’t able to come on demand?”
She frowns. “Can you come on demand?”
No, but I would be willing to try it with her. “I’m afraid not, but if you blow on me the right way and talk dirty, I might get really close to it.”
Her face turns crimson again and the tips of her ears match. I’ve embarrassed her. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like it when you talk dirty.” I reach over and grab her hand, interlacing our fingers. “No one has ever talked to me that way. I like it.”
That admission has her meeting my eyes with a hint of a smile. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I tell the girl who I lied to every weekend about why I was at the Farmers’ Market. For fifty-two weeks, I traveled into town and made up this bullshit excuse that we were out of jam. And every week, I would come home and put yet another jar of jam in the jam-packed cabinet.
Breck turns on the radio, filling the cab with soft country music. I try hard not to grin. “You like country?”
She shrugs her dainty shoulders, kicking her foot up on the dash. I cut her a look, and she glances back, raising her foot higher with a devilish grin. “I like classic country. None of the new pop country everyone seems to be coming out with.”
My foot slips off the gas. She likes the classics? She is never getting away from me now. The guys like to talk shit about my taste in music, which is eclectic really, but there’s something about driving that makes me want to blast the sounds of the south. Call me a good ole boy if you must, but a southerner I will always be. It reminds me of home, my dad taking me and my brother down old back roads, teaching us to drive with Willie Nelson blaring through the speakers. It was a time when I felt free and careless. Nothing could touch me in that truck.
Until it did.
Until I drove away from the only family that had ever loved me. I killed their son. Their true son. I let them down. I let Drew down, the best friend I ever had.
“Cade?”
The concern in Breck’s voice pulls me back from the thoughts of my pare
nts. I swallow, clearing any emotion from my throat before turning and answering her. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
Her hand moves underneath mine, and it occurs to me that I was probably squeezing the hell out of it. “Did I hurt you? I uh …” I stroke the soft skin of her arm, giving her hand a break. “I zoned out for a moment. I’m sorry.”
Gray eyes blink back at me, measuring my words thoughtfully. When she seems satisfied, she undoes her seatbelt and slides to the middle of the bench. I tap the brake. “What are you doing? Put your seatbelt on.” I’m not joking around. The last thing my soul can handle is scraping her off the road after she’s flown through the windshield.
“I am. Hold your horses.”
Hold my horses? I give her a look. I am not amused.
“Five. Four.” I count down, tapping the brake, and it dawns on her I’m fucking serious.
She scrambles, locking her buckle together before I can get to three. “There. Nice and secure. Are you happy now?”
No. Because now I’m distracted as fuck with her curvy body next to me. Just thinking about yesterday in the gym has me rock hard.
“I didn’t realize The Foundation owned a lake house,” she says, changing the subject, easing the tension in my jeans.
“We don’t. It’s Theo’s. Well, I guess it’s Theo and Anniston’s.” Breck smiles, waiting for me to continue. “After he quit professional baseball, he sold his apartment in Atlanta and bought the lake house.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Because he has more money than he knows what to do with?” I say, taking a guess. “I don’t know why he bought it, but the place is huge with five bedrooms and a separate apartment atop the boathouse. It easily sleeps all—” The reasoning hits me all at once. It sleeps all of us. Us. Not just him and Anniston. We’ve been coming here once a month for a year now. Fishing. Boating. Skiing. Grilling. We’ve had some really great times over the course of the year. As a matter of fact, it’s my favorite place to go. The serenity, the calm amongst the chaos.
That motherfucker.
I make an amused sound. Von Bremen likes to play the villain, but this goes to show he is anything but. In his own way, he has made contributions to this Foundation right under our nose.
“It sleeps?” Breck questions. Right. I stopped mid-sentence. “It sleeps all of us.” I don’t elaborate, allowing Theo his secrets.
Breck smiles. “You like it there?” she asks, hearing the fondness in my tone.
I nod. “Yeah. I love to fish and the atmosphere is so peaceful.”
“It’s been years since I’ve been to a lake. My parents preferred the beach.” Her voice seems sad.
“Do you miss having a relationship with your parents?” I ask. I’m curious because lately I find myself wondering if my parents are okay. They are getting older now and I wonder if they are in good health.
Breck sighs like it pains her to admit it. “Yeah. I do. We didn’t have the best relationship but I remember good times before Ben—” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes misting. “Cade, I need—”
“I’m adopted,” I blurt out like an idiot, cutting off whatever she was about to say. “I’m sorry,” I quickly add. “You first.”
A tear forms in the corner of those eyes that remind me of the mountaintops as they reach the heavens, and she swipes it away. “You first. I was just rambling.”
But it doesn’t feel like rambling. It feels like I interrupted something important. “Mine can wait. Please … go ahead.”
She waves me off with a forced smile. “It was nothing. Tell me about your family. You were adopted?” Her prompting is all I need to purge the other tragedy in my life.
“I am. My real mother was a surrogate for this rich couple.” I take a breath and Breck squeezes my hand in comfort. “They wanted a child, but the wife was infertile. So, my mom agreed to donate her egg and body for the couple to conceive, but when I was born …” My chest spasms and I have to rub the increasing knot there. “When I was born, the wife of the couple couldn’t bear to look at me. Said she was wrong and wouldn’t ever be able to love a child that wasn’t hers. My biological father signed over his rights, and I was left with my mother, who already had three children of her own. I was the outcast. My stepfather couldn’t bear to raise me because I wasn’t his. They fought all the time. And then he left. My mother was so angry—blamed me for her ruining her life. It wasn’t until I met Drew in fifth grade that things turned around. His parents were wonderful and welcomed me with open arms. I found myself sleeping over at their house more than my own. Eventually, Anne, Drew’s mother, asked me about my parents. By this time, I loved her more than I loved my own mother. I remember crying in her arms begging for her please not to send me back, and she shushed me, telling me everything would be fine.”
I sigh, chancing a look at B. Her eyes are watery. “She adopted you?” she guesses.
I nod. “Yeah. She went to see my mother. She never would tell me what happened but then she asked me if I would like to live with them forever.” I chuckle, remembering my reaction. “She couldn’t get the words out of her mouth before I was saying yes. I remember Drew being the happiest out of all of us. He said he had always wanted another sibling but something happened and his parents never could have any more children.”
My eyes feel heavy and itchy. Am I about to cry?
“Anyway,” I say, clearing my throat. “I became a Jameson after that. I was no longer a Davis, and I felt like I was reborn. The world was my oyster. So when Drew wanted to become a commissioned officer after college and travel the world, I was all over it. We decided on the Marines, and although I think I could have gone into the Air Force and become a pilot, Drew had dreams of becoming special forces. I had grown protective of him even though he was a few months younger than me, but he was wild and free spirited. Much like Theo.” Huh. Almost exactly like Theo.
“I wouldn’t leave him so I joined the Marines too. We were in this together.”
Breck shuffles, her hand squeezing mine tighter before she asks, “Is that why you don’t speak to them anymore? You feel you killed their real son?”
My throat constricts as she hits the proverbial nail on the head. “Yes. He was all they had, and I failed them.”
“Oh, Cade.”
I flinch. I don’t want her pity. I deserve the agony of being alone. I killed their son. My best friend. I took the only thing they had left in the world.
Breck unlatches her seatbelt, her hands going to my face in a gentle caress.
“What are you doing?” I ask. My foot eases off the gas, and I pull onto the shoulder. I refuse to drive with her unrestrained.
“Put your seatbelt back on,” I admonish, throwing my truck in park. Breck ignores my demand, placing a soft kiss on my cheek. Her lips feel warm and soft against my face. Her hands go to my hair, running through the strands, giving them a gentle tug. Another kiss to my temple has me reaching for her, pulling her body into me.
She drags her lips from my temple to my mouth, and I give in.
I want her.
I want her to make the images of Drew disappear.
I want her to make my parents disappointment in me disappear.
I want to lose myself in her until I can’t think of anything other than her warmth.
I’m kissing her hungrily when she goes for my jeans, her small hands flipping open the fly. Immediately, I’m pulled back to reality. What the fuck am I doing? We can’t do this. Not out here. What if I hurt her? I push at her hands, pulling away, and catch my breath.
“We can’t do this,” I tell her, the pain in my voice matching the pain in my jeans. Breck ignores me, unbuckling my seatbelt, and shoves at my chest, pulling my legs onto the seat so I’m reclined against the window.
“No,” I tell her, stopping her fingers with my hand. Her face, splotchy with unshed tears, falls even further. “I want to. I do. But last time …” I remind her. With what I can only describe as determination, she ta
kes my hand and slips it under her shirt, placing my palm over her heart. It thumps rapidly underneath my touch.
And then she tugs my jeans down.
“No dirty talk this time,” she tells me, pulling me out of my boxers, her fingertip rubbing over my swollen head. “Listen here,” she continues, pushing my hand more flush against her chest. “Stay with me, Cade.” And then she slides off her cotton shorts, moving over me, straddling me the best she can in our cramped space. She rises on her knees, her face searching mine for any signs of distress. With one hand, she cups my cheek, her soft skin against my rough one, and with her other hand, grips me hard, lining up with her entrance.
“Be with me, Cade. Just me.”
I don’t know what finally makes me give in. Maybe it’s the determination in her eyes, or maybe it’s because I feel stronger when she’s around. Maybe it’s because I love her and I want to make her proud. Either way, I take a breath and guide her down, sheathing me inside her. The warmth is what I notice first. Then the squeezing as though something is massaging the tension from within.
It’s been five long years since I’ve been inside of a woman. And being bare … nothing compares to the feeling of her hot skin on mine. Deep within her body, my dick slides along, grazing her innermost parts. She’s perfect. So fucking perfect. My eyes are heavy and threaten to close while my head falls back to the window. Breck’s grip is firm though, and she pulls it up, coaxing me out of my head with her breathy voice. “Look at me, Cade.”
I do. I look at her with every neuron I have. I look at the moisture dotting her makeup-free forehead. I look at her lips, parted ever so slightly as she chases her ecstasy. I take in the curve of her earlobe, the tiny cupcake earring nestled within it. I watch her naturally long lashes flutter as she struggles to keep her eyes open.
And when she looks down, her hand taking my head with her, I take in the sight of us becoming one. My length disappearing into her body. Her taking all of me. Every. Broken. Piece. Profound and beautiful, I watch the girl who pushed at me, tempting and charming as she chipped away the armor of my heart right up under my nose. I watch her hand clutch mine to her chest as she comes undone, crying out, her rhythm slowing and her heart rate slowing. “Don’t be scared,” she says, still moving on top of me. “I’ve got you.”