Nice ride, Mister Montgomery.
I stepped out and shut my car door, but Tasha was transfixed on the Lexus, her mouth pulled into a frown.
“Damn,” I muttered appreciatively. The price for this model started at forty grand.
“You know what? Let’s go. I’ll come back later.” Her smile was disingenuous. I folded my arms over my chest and waited for her to tell me the truth. She did, her shoulders deflating when she spoke.
“That’s Tony’s car.”
My fist curled. Decking Tony Fry would be my pleasure. I started for the door but her hand caught mine.
“Don’t go in there. If he’s in there, then my father’s in there, and if my father’s in there… I’m not supposed to be seeing you. I sort of…disobeyed him.”
Because she wanted to keep seeing me? I felt my lips lift on one side.
“I wasn’t done,” she admitted. “With you.”
Ah, hell. That slayed me. I brushed my lips along hers for an over-way-too-soon kiss.
“Like that,” I told her.
She smiled prettily. I wove her fingers with mine and tilted my head toward the door in a silent “let’s go.”
“We really don’t have to go in there. He won’t like that you’re with me, you know.”
“Tony?” I couldn’t help laughing. “G-good.”
Subtly, she shook her head. “My father. He thought we were fooling around.” At my skeptically raised eyebrow, she added, “We weren’t at the time. Now I’ll look like I was lying.”
I shrugged. So?
“You’re right.” She squeezed my hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
A curtain twitched in a window, her father’s scowl visible through the glass. He wanted a show? I’d give him a show. Feeling rebellious, I pulled Tasha close and wrapped my arms around her waist. She felt good there. She looked good there, despite what her father or Tony thought. The innocent smile she shot me hinted she was a girl who wouldn’t dream of letting a tatted street racer in her pants.
I knew better.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked, her own expression losing some of its innocence.
No way was I telling her. I kissed her. Slow, but not too long. I didn’t want to completely defile her with her father looking on.
“I missed you,” she said on an airy sigh.
“Me too.” I rubbed the tip of her nose with mine.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” she said, breathless. I liked that I’d taken her breath. She’d taken mine.
“Later, then.” I moved my hands away from her body reluctantly. I wanted her with an intensity I hadn’t felt in…hell, maybe ever. Hand in hand, we walked inside. Tasha tensed at my side.
“I saw Tony earlier today,” she whispered. “I wasn’t very nice.”
I chuffed, amused by her concern that she “wasn’t very nice” to a guy who was the epitome of “not very nice.”
After a false start on the word “good,” I gave up and nodded. It’d probably be best to keep my mouth shut and try to look intimidating instead. The real reason I wanted to confront Tony wasn’t to punch him but to show him that Tasha had moved on. She was with me, and a guy like me didn’t adhere to frat-boy rules. We weren’t going to duel or beer pong for Tasha. She was mine, plain and simple.
We crossed the foyer as Morton Montgomery stepped from his office. I returned his frown with a grin. He didn’t like that I was with Tasha—that she’d chosen me over him. Satisfaction spread through my chest. I hadn’t been chosen in a long, long time.
Her hand squeezed mine, and I took a deep breath. As sappy as it was, I thought Tasha and I could do anything as long as we were together.
Tony exited the office next. I returned Tony’s glare with one of my own, refusing to be intimidated. But he was a rich, privileged kid. I should’ve known he didn’t have the sense to back down. He hid partially behind Morton and crossed his arms over his dorky shirt.
“What the hell are you doing here?” her father asked, his coal-black eyes on me.
Here we go.
“I told you I was coming over to pick up my mail,” Tasha answered, being purposefully obtuse.
“Not you,” her father grumbled before jerking his chin at me. “Him.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “We’re on our way to a date.”
“How’s that work? A lowlife like Caden Wilson can’t afford the sushi place you like,” Tony said. “Or have you settled for fast food in the backseat of his shitty car?”
Both Tasha and I looked to her dad, who should be yanking Tony by his stupid collar and throwing him out on his ass. Instead, he focused on Tasha.
“Get out of my house.” Morton’s stony glare swept over to include me. Then he held out a hand. “But first, car key. Now.”
“Excuse me?” she asked quietly.
“Give me your car key, Natasha.”
“Daddy, you don’t—”
“Young lady. We had an agreement. You deliberately defied me. Give me the key.”
“I understand,” she answered patiently. I sure as fuck didn’t understand. “But I need my car for a while longer. How else will I drive to school? To work?”
“M-me.” I had a car. I could drive her wherever she needed to go. I hated the idea of her begging her father for anything.
Her eyes tracked up to mine. I stroked her cheek tenderly, saving my anger for the two pricks in the room.
“You have mmme,” I murmured, my mouth wrestling with that pesky M.
“Thank you.” She said it so softly, I almost didn’t hear it. Then she pulled the fancy digital key fob from her pocket and pressed it into my palm. I was so damn proud of her. I tossed the fob onto the marble floor. It skidded to a stop at her father’s feet. Then Tasha and I walked to the door.
I used to believe she was a daddy’s girl who would do anything to please him. Seemed to me Morton had been trying to control her with money instead. That was the wrong tactic for a woman like Tasha. He could’ve won her loyalty by showing her respect. It was a lesson I’d recently learned myself.
I shut Tasha inside my car, seething as I climbed into the driver’s seat. Every part of me wanted to march back into that house and separate Tony’s head from his skinny neck. Tasha must have noticed the tension stringing my arms, because next she rested a hand on my chest.
“Breathe.”
I took one deep breath.
“One more.” Her touch went a long way to calming me down.
“That’s better,” she said before leaning over and placing a kiss on my lips. I savored it before taking another deep breath and filling my chest. “Where are you taking me?”
“Surprise.” I turned over the engine, not trusting myself to attempt a complete sentence.
“Oh! One sec.” She ran to her Z4, returning with her backpack. She sent me a brief look of apology, but I didn’t argue. I took the pack, thought of the straws and books inside, feeling differently about it. Now her pack was a symbol of how she’d risked everything—including her father’s approval—for me.
I set it on the backseat, feeling a lump in my throat form. She cared. About me. About helping me speak again. She’d put me ahead of herself. There was only one woman in my past who’d cared about me more than herself. Joyce.
Guilt needled me as I backed out of the driveway. I hadn’t been very nice to Joyce since I learned she wasn’t my real mom. In retrospect I understood that she’d been trying to protect me. She loved me, after all. I promised myself I’d remedy our relationship soon.
Tasha
My hair whipped in the wind as the miles sped by to our undisclosed location. I still couldn’t believe Cade had walked into my father’s house with no fear or reservations whatsoever. He’d spoken in my defense, a big deal considering he refused to speak in front of anyone in case he stumbled. I was so proud of him.
I was also worried about his promise to be my personal Uber. I knew he meant well, but did he really want to spend part of every day shuttl
ing me hither and yon? But damn, it was so worth the moment he’d thrown the key down like a gauntlet.
The sun was setting, the sky fading into pastel purples, oranges, and yellows the way it did this time of year. Cade was in his element behind the wheel—either in my smooth-as-butter BMW or in a Camaro with a blubbering motor. He was born to drive.
He navigated out of the pretty part of town and into the more rundown part, until we arrived at a destination familiar to both of us: Alley Road.
The site of his accident. An accident I’d witnessed from far away, my blood going as cold as the icy winter wind that night. Everyone had scattered after the ambulance had been called. Most of that crowd had been drinking alcohol or had weed in their pockets, and nearly all of them had placed bets on the race. Alley Road wasn’t where a college student wanted to be when the authorities arrived. It was as if a mutual understanding had been reached. Cade had been the sacrificial lamb.
I hadn’t scattered that night. I vaguely remembered the friends I’d arrived with hanging around long enough to ensure I was all right, but when the sirens came closer, they’d bolted too. Miraculously, Cade hadn’t died or gone to jail. My chest swelled with gratitude so acute, I squeezed his arm as a physical reminder that he was still here.
He pulled to a stop and parked in front of the fire hydrant that had stolen his voice. I threaded my fingers with his and waited for what, I didn’t know. We sat in silence for so long that when he spoke, I jerked in my seat.
“I was truh-trying to save him,” he said softly. Tightness pulled his mouth into a flat line.
“Who?”
He took off his sunglasses and threw them onto the dashboard. His light brown eyes flicked to mine. “Dad.”
“Well. You did. He’s not gambling anymore. He’s doing well, isn’t he?”
“Y-you tell me.” Cade rubbed his fingers together, the universal symbol for money, and I knew he was referring to the envelope Paul had offered and I had refused. Embarrassed, my cheeks warmed.
“I couldn’t accept it after you kissed me. It felt wrong. And I wasn’t about to stop. I liked kissing you too much.”
“I like kissing yuh-you, T-Tasha.” My name was said on a low whisper as he lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles along my cheek. He sucked in a frustrated breath, I assume because of his prevalent stutter.
How could I have ever thought I hated him?
“Did you t-talk to him about me?”
“Paul?” I asked.
Cade shook his head. “Dumbass.”
“Oh, you mean Tony.”
A low laugh came from Cade’s throat, and gooseflesh cropped up on my arms. I loved his laugh. Loved the dimple that appeared when he laughed. Loved the way the sound eased the tension in the air. Well. Not all the tension. There was a lot of sexual tension in this car.
“I might’ve let him believe we’d…you know.” I looked at my hands.
Cade lifted my chin. His gaze burned into mine when he whispered, “I want to.”
God, me too.
His mouth slanted over mine. I’d never been kissed the way Cade kissed me. His lips were confident and sure, their firm insistence unyielding. I knew he wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to. Except for the mirror thing, and he’d eroded my resistance in a matter of seconds. His motivation had been pure—he’d done that for me.
I couldn’t believe I’d squandered so much time on Tony Fry. How had I convinced myself that he was worth the sacrifice of my own self-esteem? How had I let him take chunks out of me and accepted his opinion as the cold, hard truth? And to think I’d once considered a future with him.
Cade pulled his lips from mine. Frowning, he murmured (stutter-free, I might add), “Where do you go when I kiss you?”
I blinked up at him. “I—nowhere.”
Like he wanted to hear my rambling regrets. Or how every time I thought about my future I saw Cade with a big question mark following.
“Stay with me,” he murmured against my lips. Given my scattered thoughts, for a second I thought he meant that I should stay with him for good. Then he closed his lips over mine and I knew he meant during the kiss. One of his hands threaded into my hair as the light scruff on his jaw scratched my chin.
I stayed with him.
I focused on the feel of his warm, wet tongue. The way his strong fingers gripped my waist, then over my shirt where he palmed my breast. The taste of him, the smell of him. Clean, like soap and fresh air.
My mind didn’t wander. I was one hundred percent focused on him. Soon, I forgot we were on Alley Road with the sun rapidly setting behind the decaying abandoned buildings. Until he pulled away from me, his chest lifting and dropping, his eyes molten.
“This…isn’t our date.” His tone suggested he hadn’t meant to let our kiss spin out of control. But here, on Alley Road, where he’d quite literally spun out of control, that was almost poetic.
He put the car into gear before sending me a heated gaze that held the promise of more.
Chapter Fifteen
Cade
Ridgeway State Park closed at sunset, which made it perfect for stargazing in private. A metal sign on a chain warned: violators will be persecuted. I laughed as I unhooked it so that I could drive in. Leave it to my hometown to misuse a word in a warning.
I hopped out again to re-hook the chain, hoping if nothing appeared amiss we could stay as long as we liked without being detected. I’d packed a cooler full of food and a blanket, but I wasn’t confident I’d brought the right food for silver-spoon-in-her-mouth Tasha. My past dates had consisted of bar food and liquor shots, so I was a little out of my element.
She twisted her fingers nervously.
“Never broke into anywh-where before?” I asked as we eased along the road in the dark.
“No.” I felt her gaze on me through the grainy darkness. “It’s kinda fun.”
“Stick with me, kitten. I’ll sh-show you fun.”
“Kitten.” She grunted, a sound of mild disapproval. “That’s what you called me the night you hit on me with that horrible ‘Cade train’ line.”
There was a time I would’ve laughed that off, but instead I winced.
“It was pretty bad,” she said, laughing now. That made me feel marginally better. I guessed she forgave me.
Even so, I said, “Sorry,” the S dragging out for a few humiliating beats.
“I didn’t know you then.” Her hand draped over mine reassuringly. “I do now.”
I navigated past the parking lot and drove into the grass, hoping the trees would offer better cover from the road. I wasn’t too worried. When was the last time you saw a park ranger on duty?
The temperature had dropped, and since we still had the top off the car, a brisk breeze curled around the interior. Tasha was shivering. I doubted it was from the sheer exhilaration of breaking into a park.
“Cold?” I managed.
“I’m fine.”
Said her chattering teeth.
“Haven’t fixed the heater y-yet.” I killed the engine and spread the blanket over her bare legs. She pulled it up to her chin and shot me a smile. As much as I hated covering her up, that smile was worth it.
I was flipping through radio stations when she asked, “You packed a cooler?”
I met her raised eyebrow with one of my own. “Maybe.”
“Do you always prepare for a spontaneous make-out session?”
“I was pruh-paring anyway. Making out is a bonus.” I grinned and she grinned. “Eat, then therapy.”
“Actual therapy?” Her eyes lit with excitement. If I wasn’t mistaken, the prospect of helping me speak ranked higher than us making out. That was troubling. And cute.
I handed her a sandwich, then pulled out a bottle of water and waggled it at her. “Have ss-straws?”
“I do.” She beamed. Cute.
She had no complaints about the ham and cheese sandwiches, which I took to mean they were edible. After, we went to work. I did her puckering e
xercises. I sounded out the annoying ooos and I popped the Ps in those stupid puhs.
She must’ve caught me grimacing at the straws. She pulled one out, unwrapped it, and stuck it into the water bottle, then said, “You know, the purpose of this exercise is to warm up the tongue. We could try an alternate workout.”
Arm on the back of her seat, I leaned close. “Yes.”
The word came out smoothly and I hadn’t even tried.
Her laugh sounded a lot like approval. “You seem surprised that therapy actually works.”
“Kinda.” And a clear K. I will be damned.
“Well, you know what they say. Practice makes perfect.” She touched my cheek with delicate fingers. I stopped caring about my mouth and focused on hers.
I closed the gap and kissed her. She wasted no time slipping her hand under my T-shirt and scraping my abs with her fingernails.
“This is my favorite kind of therapy.” Her voice was husky, feathering at the edges. I loved that sound.
“Mine too,” I said against her neck before kissing my way south. I unclasped her bra, freeing her gorgeous, creamy breasts. When her shirt was out of the way, I took one on my tongue. I loved the way her nipples peaked, like they were begging for more. Her back arched, her hips thrusting as my hand wandered in that direction.
I didn’t get far before she grabbed my head and kissed me mercilessly. She rubbed her other palm on my cock over my jeans as my breath whooshed from my lips.
This girl.
“Tasha.” I didn’t have the chance to say more before delicate fingers undid the stud of my jeans and lowered the zipper. The throb in my dick was supersonic. If she did what I thought she was about to do… God help me.
I’d have to focus to last longer than a few minutes. A few seconds. Just thinking of her mouth on me made my heart rate triple and my palms sweat.
She tossed the blanket over my lap and disappeared under it.
Holy shit.
I leaned back on the headrest, eyes turned up at the star-studded sky. I mused that my stargazing idea had taken a turn for the better, but the moment her wet, warm mouth closed over the tip, all thought ceased. Not seeing what she was doing amplified each soft lick. She kissed the tip sweetly before swirling the head with her tongue. Then she took my cock into her mouth inch by inch, and I groaned deeply. She laved me with her talented tongue, and my hips gave a helpless jerk.
Craving Caden (Lost Boys Book 2) Page 11
