Could she really do this? Could she let down her guard enough to enjoy a few moments of play?
Part of Emily was urging her to put her head down and get to work—but another part, one that remembered what it was like to have fun, begged to join in.
She took a deep breath and cupped her hand. "Well, then I might do this."
She arced her hand along the water's surface, sending a tall spray in Cade's direction, soaking his shirt and pants.
The look on Cade's face made Emily fear she'd gone too far, but his shock gave way to laughter as he pushed back his hair. "You shouldn't have done that," he teased.
"No? Why's that?"
"'Cause now you've escalated the situation, so I have to do this."
He dipped his huge hands and sent a cascade of water directly over Emily's head.
Emily shrieked, abandoning the last of her caution and throwing herself into the water battle. They volleyed splashes back and forth until they were both completely drenched and doubled over with laughter.
As cold as the water was, Emily felt paradoxical warmth emanating from her center, spreading out from her heart. She knew if she placed her hand on Cade's chest, she'd feel his own warm blood underneath, the strong beat of his own heart.
The thought of touching him in that way replaced her playfulness with a different kind of need, one that had no place here, with an alpha who was still a stranger to her.
"I surrender!" Emily shouted. "You win."
Cade grinned through the water dripping down his face. "I always do."
"So cocky," Emily murmured, wringing the water from her hair so he wouldn't see her expression, even though she knew he could easily read her emotions. "But we should probably get to work."
"We probably should," Cade agreed before pulling his sopping wet T-shirt over his head and tossing it onto the creek bed.
Holy shit.
Emily's breath caught at the sight of the glistening, sun-dappled alpha with waist-high water flowing around him, rivulets making paths down his chiseled chest. Had Cade done that because he'd sensed the change in her mood? Was he trying to torment her?
This was what Emily had imagined back on the porch. This was the fantasy that had summoned the flurry of butterflies.
Except…this was no fantasy. This was all too real—and somehow even better than what her imagination had come up with.
Emily was rooted to the spot, inadvertently wetting her lips with her tongue, knowing she should stop staring at Cade's gorgeous body but unable to. The pleasure of looking was tinged with shame—at wanting what she couldn't have, at the things she hungered for.
"We should really get to work," she said, tearing herself away and starting to pull at the tangled branches.
"You sure about that?" Cade's voice was lazy and deep, a husky invitation. She'd seen the lust simmering in his eyes before she turned away. "It's still early. There's a lot of daylight left…time to do all kinds of things."
A rush of liquid heat pooled deep in Emily's belly. "I'm sure there is," she stammered before returning to her task.
She knew her deliberate misunderstanding wouldn't fool Cade for a second. Still, she was counting on the promise he'd given her to keep him silent about it.
Because the truth was that she'd never been more uncertain of anything in her life.
Chapter Nine
Cade watched Emily work out of the corner of his eye as he dragged the heaviest branches from where they'd lodged in the muddy stream bottom.
It was torture, he decided, to have to see the thin, almost transparent wet fabric of Emily's shirt clinging to her body, outlining her breasts, showcasing her hard nipples as she moved. Her feet were planted shoulder-width apart as she tried to keep her balance in the current. From between her legs, he caught the scent of slick, betraying a desire that was quickly washed away by the running water.
Emily wanted him.
The knowledge made Cade want to heave the log he held up onto the bank with a howl that would echo through the entire valley, marking this omega as his own. He wanted to press her chilled body to his and dip his fingers into the source of that precious slick and show her how much it turned him on.
This wasn't just her omega instincts at work anymore.
Yes, Emily's omega nature reacted to the sight of his alpha body…but that didn't explain the way her eyes darkened to navy blue, the tiny vulnerability she was allowing him to see.
The question of how Emily felt about him was no longer open for interpretation or debate—her need was real and primal. But it was the possibility of something more—something real—that made Cade's already hard cock ache with want.
But there was a problem—more than a few, actually—but the one he was currently focused on was just how slight Emily's physical arousal was. It was real, there was no doubt about that—the way she'd wetted her lips, her embarrassment when he caught her staring, the tension crackling in the air between them—but that slow drip of slick was far too muted.
It didn't take a genius to guess why. The fear and confusion of the last twenty-four hours didn't help. A sudden switch of alphas was probably playing havoc with her hormones, too. But Cade had a feeling that something even more insidious was at work inside Emily.
He was willing to bet that it had taken a while for Sloan to break her spirit. Which meant that Cade had to expect it to take a while to heal it.
It would be all too easy to grab Emily, throw her down on the mossy bank, and give her body the attention it clearly craved. Cade was sure that all it would take was a few strokes of his fingers, a few well-placed swipes of his tongue between those sweet rounded thighs, and he could kick her flow into high gear and unleash the wild desire that Sloan had crushed and stunted with his cruelty.
But Cade held back. He wouldn't force things to progress—not yet, at least. Not until she begged him to. He had given her that promise, and he meant to keep it.
Besides…he had a feeling that it wouldn't be long.
Cade turned away to hide his smirk, unable to suppress his alpha pride and satisfaction at knowing this omega wanted him.
Most people—betas, anyway—reviled alphas for their territorial nature, somehow equating it with brutality. But they didn't get it. There was nothing more satisfying for an alpha than looking around at his property, the home he'd built with his own hands and protected with an impenetrable defense.
And when it came to his omega—that sense of proud territorialism increased tenfold. A beta looked at his woman and could only hope she wanted him, that he could make her feel protected and safe. An alpha made damn fucking sure of it.
And that was why he would take his time.
He might even enjoy it. The agony of waiting was tempered with the promise of its reward. It had taken less than a day for Emily to drop her guard enough to follow him into the woods. Only a little longer for her to feel comfortable enough with him to joke and play in the water. By any measure, considering how wounded she'd been, Emily was quickly learning to trust him.
So quickly, it was nothing short of astonishing.
It made Cade think there had to be some sort of strange magic at work, and not just because the woman who had stared woodenly through the windshield, who'd flinched at his smallest movement, who'd been sure he meant her harm, was now humming as she worked a few feet away from him.
No: the real magic wasn't that Emily had let down her defenses—but that Cade had, too.
He wasn't that guy. Cade knew exactly how people saw him—quick-tempered, humorless, always looking for a fight—and he didn't bother fighting it, because it was true. He couldn't remember the last time he'd joked around with anyone, let alone played.
He'd been a colicky baby, according to his mother, and a difficult toddler. As a kid, he was the one who was always sent to detention, suspended, or expelled. Once his nature had shown, that urge to brawl had only grown.
And yet here he was laughing and playing around like a rowdy pup.
&
nbsp; For some reason, Emily had brought out a side of him that Cade barely recognized. When she'd surprised him by teasing him, his first reaction hadn't been anger or annoyance, but delight.
Nothing about this omega—and what she did to him—was predictable. Cade had threatened her alpha and risked his life and reputation after knowing her only moments. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any woman, but he'd been able to summon the strength to hold back his lustful urges when he was around her.
Maybe it was like this for all alphas and their omegas…or maybe Emily was exceptional.
Cade realized that he'd stopped working so he could watch her, bent over with that sweet, ripe ass wiggling invitingly as she pulled with all her might on a branch that was far too heavy for her. It took a hell of an omega to jump into a task like this without hesitation. In fact, Cade couldn't imagine any of the omegas living in the settlement doing what she was doing now.
She was special. No one could convince him otherwise.
Few people could survive everything that Emily had been through. Cade didn't wish that kind of suffering on any woman, omega or otherwise. Still, the resilience he saw in Emily's eyes was nothing short of amazing.
He'd known right away that she was a survivor, that the scars and bruises she was trying to hide under her shirt hadn't stopped her from getting up each day and trying again.
But what he hadn't appreciated until now was that despite living through hell, Emily's spark hadn't been entirely extinguished—and she could still draw a laugh from a mean son of a bitch like him.
So no, Emily wasn't just some ordinary omega. She was the most amazing omega who had ever crossed Cade's path.
But he really had to stop staring. Cade cleared his throat, glad that the water hid his raging erection, and waded to her side.
"Here," he said, taking the branch from her. "I'll steady it while you clear the smaller debris out from around it."
Emily nodded, studiously avoiding looking at his bare chest as she pulled handfuls of matted leaves and fern fronds and twigs from around the base of the branch and tossed them onto dry land.
Cade didn't need her help, of course. One hard yank was all it would take for him to pull the branch free. But Emily needed to keep her hands busy, and Cade understood that feeling.
He, too, had used work to dispel the tension inside him, an imbalance he'd felt as long as he could remember. Even as a child, Cade had hungered for something he couldn't name, and its lack provoked him for reasons he couldn't explain.
Hitting things—or people—helped, but the satisfaction never lasted long. He'd learned to push his body to exhaustion, if only to feel both useful and numb at the same time.
Emily didn't have the option of using her fists in the middle of a gravel parking lot to get her frustrations out. Besides, Cade sensed that she wasn't a brawler by nature.
His blood raged at the thought of anyone daring take a swing at her, and he knew he'd kill the son of a bitch without hesitation. In fact, nothing would give him more satisfaction.
In time, Emily would consent to letting him show her a far more pleasurable way to work off all that energy. But for now, manual labor would have to do.
But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it. As Emily dug the detritus from the stream bottom, Cade breathed deeply of her bright, intoxicating scent, feeling the heat emanating through the thin fabric plastered to her body and the surge of his cock as she brushed up against him.
He bore it as long as he could, but Cade was no superman. There was only so much stimulation he could take, even with ice water flowing past his cock. After a few minutes, he decided enough was enough, and wrenched the branch free and hurled it deep into the woods. The moment it was gone, the rest of the clog freed itself and floated gently away down the creek.
Emily kept her back to him as she watched it go. When it had disappeared around a bend in the stream, she wiped her brow and turned to face him.
"That didn't take long," she said with a smile. "What else needs to be done?"
Cade raised an eyebrow. "Well, there's a post in the garden that needs replacing." He grimaced at the memory of crushing it last night, just imagining her underneath him.
"And I noticed a few rough spots along the patio." Emily bent to sweep the last of the debris downstream.
"Did you now? Any other defects you wanted to bring up?"
The change in Emily was instant. She straightened, fear stiffening her body. "I meant no offense."
Cade resisted the urge to reassure her with a hand on her shoulder. In time, his touch would become the thing that reassured her more than anything else. But right now, it would only push her further away.
And that was the last thing Cade wanted.
The instinct to take her in his arms, to possess her, to protect her—it was growing stronger with each passing moment. At this rate, it would soon be almost too strong for him to control.
Almost.
"I know that," he told her gently. "You're only looking to help."
Emily blinked several times before dropping her gaze to the ground, biting her bottom lip nervously. He sensed her battling with herself, but her eyes were bright and hopeful when she looked up.
Under the water, Cade's cock swelled even harder.
"Well, in that case, I also noticed that the bottom step has signs of dry rot. I'm not sure how much help I'll be with the post, but I can defiantly pull that step out and replace it. I mean, after I get some dry clothes on."
What a shame, Cade couldn't help thinking—but replacing steps wasn't really the sort of thing Emily could do naked.
Though he could think of a whole host of things she could.
Emily tightened the heavy leather belt around the Cade's shirt—the same flannel she'd discovered hanging from the railing earlier that morning.
No matter how she tugged at the fabric, trying to fashion the shirt into a sort of dress, it was still ridiculously large on her. But at least it was dry and long enough that Emily didn't have to worry about showing her ass when she bent over.
In fact, the only real problem with wearing Cade's shirt was its incredibly distracting scent. Notes of fresh sawdust and amber oil and sun-split pinecones blended with something that was Cade alone.
It had been hard enough to tear herself away from the intoxicating scent this morning when she'd first breathed it, but now Emily was literally draped in it, and there was no escaping the shadow of his presence.
It was warm and reassuring…and that was unfamiliar enough to make her wary.
Sloan's scent had never made Emily feel this way. From his first touch, she'd been repulsed by Sloan's harsh, bitter smell. It pained her to remember how much she had needed his alpha nature during her heats. Her very survival had depended on their mating, but at no time had she ever wanted anything else from him.
It wasn't like that with Cade.
Emily was finding it harder and harder to pretend that she didn't want him. The truth was that she wanted to learn everything about him, to look in every drawer and cupboard for clues, to read the books on his shelves. To really know him.
Which was unhelpful and ridiculous and probably just the result of fatigue and anxiety. Emily shook her head to clear it as she scooped up her sopping wet clothes from the floor. Cade was certainly handsome—she'd give him that. But a gorgeous pair of eyes and a few tight muscles topped off with a savior complex didn't make a man a good idea.
Only, her body didn't seem to agree. Emily froze as something warm, hot, and wet gushed from between her legs and onto the floor. She glanced at the pale lavender lace panties sitting on top of the dripping laundry pile in her arms. They were soaked with the same slick now pooling on the floor.
No. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible.
Sloan had been quick to decide that Emily's body was broken when she didn't respond to his vicious pawing. Frigid, fat bitch, he'd called her, taunting her that she was damaged, deformed, useless. Only during her heats did she produce
any noticeable amount of slick. Even then, it hadn't been enough to satisfy his bruised ego.
But this?
This was epic. Slick soaked not just her undies but the crotch of her jeans, spreading down almost to the knees.
Emily felt her face flush. She was going to have to wash these clothes quickly before Cade noticed. She couldn't bear for him to know she reacted this way to merely seeing him without his shirt on. He'd been bold enough last night when her interest in him had been faint, making his desire for her uncomfortably explicit. What the hell would he do when he caught wind of this?
What would he expect from her?
Emily yelped at a knock on the bedroom door. She dug her fingers into the wet clothes, wringing the water and slick from them to puddle on the floor at her feet.
Oh, shit.
"You okay, Emily?" Cade asked from the other side of the door.
Damn it, did he have to sound so sexy when he said her name? Did his voice really have to deepen like that, so it made her insides quiver like a tuning fork? The heat radiating deep in Emily’s belly shifted lower, prompting another rush of slick.
"Yes, I'm fine," she called, trying to keep her voice even despite the fact that her body had picked the worst possible time to decide that it wanted to be a full omega after all. "I'm just finishing getting dressed."
But Emily knew what happened when she lied to an alpha. Under ordinary circumstances, it was hard to bend the truth without detection by their extraordinary senses…but if she couldn't even convince herself, she had no chance of convincing Cade.
Add in that puddle of slick on the floor, and she was done for.
"You sure you're all right?" Cade didn't sound convinced.
"Yep!" Emily knelt to try to scrub the wet spot from the floor using the pile of wet clothes, a doomed effort.
Even if it had worked, the glistening drops of moisture clinging to her ankles would be a dead giveaway. And even now more slick trickled between her legs. She stood and pressed her knees together tightly, but it was no use.
No, no, no, no, no.
Cade: The Boundarylands Omegaverse Page 7
