by Kira Blakely
She exits the car first.
I shadow her movement, meeting her on her side of the vehicle.
Jade stands stiff, her arms hanging at her sides, her hands closing with the fury scrunching her features. I glance warily at her fists, puzzling out the chances she’ll use them on me.
“I can’t believe we’re even talking about this,” she says, her eyes wide with disbelief. She laughs short and bitter. “This is crazy—you’re crazy.”
“It’s for your safety.”
She snarls. “My safety isn’t your concern, Cas. I’m perfectly capable of caring for myself.” She drags her eyes over me, wrinkling her nose like she’s whiffed something rank. “Even your drool-worthy muscles aren’t going to stop bullets.”
“So,” I drawl, “you admit these men are dangerous?”
She rolls her eyes, the duh implied in the gesture. All it tells me is that she’d rather brave this shit her crummy ex-boyfriend dumped on her front stoop than humor my over-the-top solution.
I have to ask then: “Does marrying me disgust you so much?”
Jade narrows her eyes. “That’s not the point.”
“You’re right,” I say, clenching my jaw, mincing my words mentally. Saying too much, revealing more than I intend, is not what I want. “The point is there are likely more of those men searching for Tyler Wagner, and who have the same erroneous information about you.”
“Is that your way of getting me to fly into your arms?”
I throw out my hands. “Let’s head upstairs and talk.”
“I won’t give on this, Cas.” She shakes her head before freezing. She digs through her purse then, her hands clutching her phone. “In fact, I’ll call the police now. Turn myself in. You won’t hold the past over me.”
Calling her on her bluff is too risky. She isn’t dialing, but she’s staring at me long and hard. A beat later she taps at her phone, presses it to her ear and—
“Fine. Do what you want. Just don’t say I didn’t try to help you.” I move around her, the monkey of tension hanging over my shoulders growing more restless with each step. I’m heading for the garage exit and the lift that will take me up to the hotel lobby.
Jade pursues me. “What are you up to?” Her sneakers slap on the pavement, slowing as we reach the lift. She steps into my periphery. “It can’t be this easy with you.”
You haven’t scratched the surface of me.
It’s what I want to tell her. She has no clue how singularly-focused I can become, how driven I am. We’ve known each other for months, that’s true. But it was that wild whirlwind of a week that brought us closer.
Even then, we fucked more than we talked. I spent more time filling every part of her, and taking all her firsts with me at once—greedy fucker that I am. Not in the literal sense, of course. I’m no virgin, and neither was she. Still, I’m not satiated of Jade Dunn. Nowhere near close to being satisfied with what she’s given me thus far.
That’s why the thought of marriage possesses a sweet, pleasant flavor. Being with Jade again injects happiness directly into my heart. I’m hopeful. And I’m not too sure if I hate it entirely.
“Cas,” she says.
I don’t turn my head to acknowledge her. Mostly because I’m thinking of fucking her right here and now.
She huffs, annoyed. “I know you’re up to something.” She trails me into the lift. We skip the foyer, riding up to my floor. Jade silently stalks after me. She’s particularly breathing down my back, only she’s half a foot shorter than me making that impossible.
Inside my sumptuous suite, I face her. “I’m not up to anything.”
“Then why propose to me?” Jade crosses her arms over her chest, and being the dog that I am, my eyes track down to ogle her tits. She doesn’t call me out on it. She’s got bigger fish to fry.
“Don’t tell me it’s for my safety. You haven’t contacted me in two months. Two months,” she breathes the last part, the time profound to her. “This is about catching Tyler. I’m just bait.”
I shrug out of my wool overcoat, tossing it over the back of an armchair in the suite’s living room. My tie loosened and drawn over my head, I head to the wet bar. “Drink?”
“No thanks,” she says, her tone still snippy. It itches my palm. I’d like to bend her over my knee, pull down her jeans and panties, and smack her bare ass until the flesh warms under my hand.
I pour myself three fingers of brandy. God knows I need it. Letting it breathe, I fold myself into the armchair, waving my free hand at the settee to my left. “Might as well rest your laurels.”
“Laurels?” Jade steps into my vision, sitting, one arched brow raised. There’s a note of easy teasing in her question.
I sip at the brandy. “I suggested marriage to convince the men pursing Tyler that you’re off the market. No longer Tyler’s girl…”
“I’d be yours?” Jade purses her lips, her dark eyes scouring over me.
As I empty my glass and stand to pour myself another, she says, “On second thought, I’ll take that drink now.” She accepts the smooth Armagnac, swilling it like she needs the liquid courage to ice the anxiety she has to be feeling. This suite of mine holds too much for us both. A week’s worth of passionate nights.
“But marriage?” she asks.
“Do you have any suggestions that would work better?” I counter, shrugging. I’m all ears if she has a better idea, even if it kills the flaring hope of being with this girl again.
“It’s still crazy, Cas. You have to admit that much,” she drawls. “The thought is sweet though.”
“I can’t change your mind?”
Jade tilts her head, her gaze lowering to the emptied glass in her hands. “I won’t lie. It does freak me out.”
“At least stay,” I say, more vehemently than I anticipated. She lifts her head. I settle my untouched, second glass on the glass coffee table. Leaning forward, my elbows balancing on my knees, I urge, “You’ll be safe here.”
“Even from you?” she taunts, her smile softening the question. The glint in her dark eyes and the fluttering of her long, black lashes tells me she’s aware of her rattling the beast’s cage.
“Even from me,” I promise gruffly. What I want to say that if I want her, that nothing and no one can keep me from her, not ever. “You’d have your own room.”
Jade smiles more widely. “I thought I was banned for life. Are you sure it’s wise to leave me all alone in one of your fancy suites?”
“I’ll take that risk. Your life is priceless, Jade. We won’t be buried with these luxuries, after all.”
“Good point.” She ducks her head then, the shy gesture gripping my heart as it always has. She stretches to rest her glass on the coffee table. Clasping her hands, wringing her fingers in her lap, she says, “Though your offer is generous… I can’t accept it, Cas.”
I grind my teeth. I’ll be visiting the dentist shortly at the rate Jade has my anxiety going. “Why not?” I spit out the question.
“I don’t want to let them win.” She rolls her slim shoulders, her nonchalance not throwing me. She can’t even look at me.
“It’s not a game of chance. It’s rigged for you to lose, Jade. These men will come again, so long as they think Tyler’s associated with you. Hell, they might make a statement out of your death.” Scaring her into my arms is a stupid, half-assed plan, but it’s the hand I have left. I’m desperately wary to let her leave this suite now that I’ve brought her this far.
Jade shakes her head. “Don’t…” Her bottom lip quivers and her eyes glisten. She doesn’t cry though. She certainly doesn’t spring into my arms like she had before. “Again, thank you for the offer, Cas, but I’ll be fine on my own.”
There it is. With little else to say, I stand. “At least, let me walk you downstairs.”
She pushes to her full five-feet-nil. “No thanks. I got it. I know my way around this place, remember?” She flashes a smile lacking its usual warmth. “Thanks for the drink. We shou
ldn’t do this again anytime soon though.”
“I don’t go where I’m not wanted.”
She nods briskly. “Good.” Jade slides past me then, the sofa pushing her closer. A couple more inches and her round breasts could be pressed to me.
It takes everything in me to keep from grabbing her, whisking her to my bedroom, and giving her a different kind of talking to…one that would have me on my knees between those shapely legs.
I refrain from watching her departure, the lure of her swaying backside sure to drive me into doing something idiotic and out-of-character. The door clicks and the silence becomes deafening. Only then do I hazard a glance at the front door.
After realizing she won’t be returning to change her mind, I sink back into my seat. I down my brandy, staring at the empty glass, gripping it hard while fighting off the desire to chuck it across the room.
Needing a stronger drink, I stand in search of it. I’m prowling through the bar when I hear the sharp knock.
The two security guards on the other side of the front door greet me quickly. “Mr. Felix, there’s been an incident, and, uh, the victim is asking for you. I believe she’s a former employee.”
“What?!” I roar as it registers that the “victim” has to be Jade. “What happened?” I’m out in the hall now, leading the men. They fill me in: something about vandalism, a car, loud screaming, and a fire alarm being pulled. I barely make it out over the noisy worry rattling around inside of my head.
Once the elevator dips past the foyer, my stomach sinks. I had been hoping it wasn’t Jade; that this had been a coincidence; that another woman, another ex-employee, had been visiting on this same day.
But I have to face the fact. Jade hasn’t been gone more than five minutes—ten tops. Enough time for her to be here still. For her to be traumatized by a vandalism.
“Cas!” she calls my name; it comes out strangled. She rushes to me, and I meet her halfway. The guards must have shut off the fire alarm. Another kind of alarm wails insufferably loud in my head. I recognize it has concern for Jade’s well-being. I still care for this beautiful, usually fearless woman.
Only Jade doesn’t clutch me so fearlessly. Her legs are shaky, and her body won’t stop trembling no matter how long I hold her close, rub her back, and whisper soothing nonsense to her. She clings to me, her tears soaking into my shirt. She sobs freely, her fearful pain muffled by the fabric.
Over her head, I read the ugly, hateful words painted on the side of her car: Deadman’s Bitch.
The glass of the smashed windows has sprayed the area around the vehicle, like a broken circle of salt to ward off demons. They blew them all out; that had to have taken real rage, the likes of which I forbid Jade witnessing in person.
Nodding to the security who acted fast, and memorizing their faces for their much-deserved bonus checks, I shift to Jade’s side, tuck her under my arm, and lead her from the terror attack.
In the elevator, I manage to disentangle Jade from me. Smoothing her springy curls from her face, I cup her cheeks and level our faces. “You’re safe here. Always.”
She nods jerkily, sniffling. She still looks pretty with tears in her eyes, but I wish they weren’t there.
“Cas,” she says softly. I almost miss it. Like she’s taking a sigh instead of calling for me again.
“What is it, Jade? Tell me what you need.” I’ll do anything for her. I accept that I’m a goner when it comes to Jade Dunn. I’m lost in her eyes. They’re warmer in this lighting, or maybe that’s because the tears glitter back at me, stark and real and heartbreakingly painful to bear. Fixing my hands to her upper arms, I give her an encouraging squeeze.
“Trust me to help,” I say. “I’ll make this right.”
She bobs her head. “I do trust you. It’s why I’ll do it.” And when I don’t catch on, she lowers her head, shying from me. “I’ll marry you, Cas.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jade
I should have known Cas would take it too far.
No sooner are the words out of my mouth does he sweep my feet out from under me, carrying me over the threshold into his suite like we’ve already traded vows.
He has a ring on my finger by dusk, the setting sun our rippling red-gold backdrop as we stand in the living room. The furniture has been moved by the guys. Cas called in his friends, Nolan and Isaiah.
I have to admit, things only got real when the three men stood together, a trio of muscled, handsome men filling out tailored, pricey tuxedos. Not only am I marrying Casimiro Felix, I’m doing in front of his friends—my former bosses—as our witnesses. And my version of a wedding dress is a simple white cotton dress, the sweetheart neckline and hem fringed in light blue lace.
It’s the best I can do on such short notice. Cas pulled his fancy suit out of his closet; I had to pull my dress from the suitcase Nolan and his security guards grabbed for me. Cas had them head to my place to pack me up for the duration of this nuptial ruse.
I’m still in awe at having agreed to do it. Wishing I had more time to digest the gravity of my decision, but seeing no pause button to push, I faced the consequences head-on…with only the slightest quiver in my knees.
The officiant directs us, pausing for our vows. Cas reminds her that we’re good with the regular spiel. We don’t actually have vows. Though, in hindsight, I realize it’s for the best. It’s a fake marriage, and we know nothing about each other. Having sex with him doesn’t mean I have a clue about what experiences chipped and honed Cas into the man standing before me, fitting a round diamond solitaire ring on my finger.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” Cas says, steady and sure of himself, of this adventure he’s choosing to undergo with me.
My hands quake as I slide on Cas’s ring, repeating the standard-fare vows. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The officiant beams at us, inciting more nerves from me. I want to tell her it’s a sham. But then I catch the anxious twist to Cas’s smile, his hands clasped in mine, big, calloused, and clammy. He’s scared too. Man won’t admit it ever, but he’s not certain of this either.
Oddly, it silences the panic alarm in my mind.
“If no one here protests, you may now share your first kiss as a wedded couple.” The officiant’s cue dims from focus. The whole world screeches to a stop for me. It’s Cas and me, and a relentless fog of unknowns from here.
Cas hauls me in closer, his hands framing my waist. “Mrs. Felix,” he whispers, his gaze on my mouth. It grows warm in the anticipation of our kiss. And Cas doesn’t disappoint. He traps me, his lips brushing mine softly.
I grip his big, strong arms, needing to steady myself. It’s been too long, and his lips mold to mine, like they belong there.
Cas deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth, a gentle request for entry. I grant him access, and he flips the script, growling as he scours my mouth, dominates me. The kiss leaves me weak-kneed and…well, needy.
Readying to tear off my flimsy dress, free his cock, and slip my sticky panties aside to bounce on his steely shaft, I moan into his mouth to let him know. My whole body is full of Cas, and I lean into him when he lifts his head. My lips throb, my heart in my throat, and my nails embedding deeper into the sleeves of Cas’s polished tux.
I’m marring the fine Italian wool in my desperation to get at this man. Cas frees himself gently, his smile relaxed, easy. Like he hadn’t kissed me passionately. Try as he might, he can’t hide his body’s reaction. I press my belly harder into his bulging erection. Cas’s packing, and it’s all for me.
“Save some for the honeymoon, you two,” Nolan teases, reminding me of where we are and who’s witnessed our hot kiss. The officiant is gone, her duty to wed us and send off our paperwork to legalize our marriage certificate done, but Cas’s friends remain with us.
Nolan winks, his grin widening. “Makes me want to race home to my wife.”
“Glad we could be a source of inspirat
ion.” Cas presses me to his side, his hand placed in a possessive hold on my hip. He gives me a squeeze, and I peer up. His eyes rove over my face, before his brows pucker and his mouth curls down at the corners. Whatever mirth he reserved for Nolan’s comment is gone.
Not wanting to give him cold feet now, I settle my palm over his toned stomach, hoping to wordlessly communicate calm into him.
“Let’s cut the cake then.” Nolan claps, gaining our attention. Glad for the distraction, I move with Cas. He shadows me into the kitchen.
Nolan flips open the cake box. He shrugs, grinning sheepishly. “I stopped by the grocer’s. The best I could do in such short notice.” The cake is chocolate, the bright red spelling out Happy Wedding.
“It’s perfect,” I say, touched by Nolan’s gesture.
Isaiah isn’t all smiles though. He catches my eye, and he narrows his gaze a fraction. His attention flickers to the phone in his hand before I can squirm too long in his obvious disapproval. “Cas, I’m headed out. Walk me out?”
Cas leaves with Isaiah.
I catch Nolan staring at me, a birthday-themed plastic plate in his hand. “Don’t worry too much about him. Isaiah isn’t much of a social guy.” Nolan’s words are meant to comfort me. I’m sorry they don’t.
Still, for his sake, I smile brightly and grab a glass of bubbly he’s poured for us. “Cheers,” I say, clinking his glass.
Cas returns, his shoulders tense and riding up to his ears, and his fingers massaging the knuckles of his other hand. We share a glance, and he relaxes his muscles and drops his hands.
Nolan breaks the silence. “I’ll be heading out as well. Last-minute work stuff, and the wifey wants me to run for milk. Kids and their sugary breakfast cereals.” He is rolling his eyes, but his grin is dopey and he’s obviously silly in love with his family.
“Congrats again, you two. I can feel the strong chemistry here.” He laughs and hugs me quickly, slapping Cas’s shoulder. “No need to walk me out, man. Treat your girl.”