Craving Caden (Lost Boys Book 2)

by Jessica Lemmon

  “Let’s get dirty first.” She put her fingers in the waistband of my jeans and tugged. I went, no complaint. She’d embraced her bolder side.

  I wrapped my arms around her lower back, resisting cupping her ass. I didn’t want to rush. Her arms looped my neck and her face tilted up to mine. I kissed her languidly, stroking my tongue with hers. Whatever alcohol had been in my bloodstream was now being replaced by something else. Lust.

  She pulled away to kiss the underside of my jaw, tongued the hollow of my throat, and then peppered kisses along the side of my neck. I threaded her hair through my fingers, forgetting to seduce her, content to let her seduce me instead. She lashed her tongue against my Adam’s apple and I tightened my grip in her silken hair, out of my mind with need.

  No one had ever turned me on like Tasha. She drove me crazy.

  Keeping the hand in her hair, I wrenched the other around the material of her dress and yanked it up. By the time my palm closed around one bare butt cheek, my erection was several inches of hardening steel. I traced that cheek to a string and snapped it against her skin.

  Her sharp intake of breath cooled the skin on my neck.

  A thong. She was wearing a fucking thong. She stuck her tongue in my ear and I growled low in my throat. She wasn’t wasting any time. She lifted my shirt, her nails raking my abs, up to my pecs, and over my nipples. Then that amazing mouth hit my chest and she lit me up with a series of damp kisses.

  The idea of going slow went out the window. I lifted her chin and slammed my mouth over hers, pulling her closer and grinding against her soft, sweet, giving curves. Her tongue stroked mine as I vibrated, past ready to be inside her.

  “Amazing,” I murmured between kisses, unable to keep from voicing how damn good she tasted and felt. I bent my knees and lifted her, setting her on the kitchen island. She squeaked in surprise.

  “I have a bed,” she said.

  “Cuh-counter.” I peeled off her dress and tossed it next to her wineglass. She thrust her breasts out rather than hide from me. We’d come a long way in a short time. Even under the bright lights of her kitchen, she wasn’t a bit shy.

  “So beautiful.” I stroked a finger between her cleavage before testing the weight of her breast in my hand. Her eyes warmed. It was what she needed to hear, but it was also the truth.

  I freed her breasts, cradling two smooth pert globes in my hands. When I tugged, teasing her nipples with my thumbs and forefingers, she sucked in a breath through her teeth.

  Her lips hit mine for a deep, punishing kiss. She wrestled my fly open, stroking me until I forgot my own name. Luckily, she reminded me. “Cade. Take me to bed. Please.”

  It was the “please” that made me reconsider. Letting go of her breasts, I nuzzled her nose with mine before setting her on her feet. She was insanely sexy standing there, her hair wild, cheeks flushed, wearing naught but a pair of microscopic panties.

  “Run.” I capped that command with a swat to her butt and then chased her the short distance to her bedroom.

  When I reached the doorway, she was backing away from me toward a very big, very plush-looking bed. I yanked my shirt over my head while I kicked off my shoes. I was down to my boxer briefs, my eyes locked on the scrap of white lace covering the most delicious part of Tasha. Her thumbs hooked the edges of the thong and my mouth went dry.

  Nothing compared to this woman naked.

  My erection throbbed against the thin confines of my underwear as she shimmied the panties down her legs. Then she came to me, dark intention in her eyes.

  She dragged my briefs down my legs, sinking to her knees in the process. Fingers dashed along my legs and thighs, whispered over my cock. I watched her and she watched me, frozen in between pendulum swings, neither of us in a rush to end the anticipation.

  She skimmed my body with hers as she stood. When her lips were close, I bent my head and kissed her, cupping her hips and backing her toward a pink-and-white bed that was heaven. It had to be. There was no actual place on earth where Tasha Montgomery would beg me to have sex with her.

  I followed her down on the bed where our skin melded and our lips sought. Her tight, high breaths mingled with my deep, satisfied groans in the air. My mind spun, eager for another slice of paradise.

  “Condom,” she said around a kiss, “in my”—another kiss—“nightstand.”

  No need to track back to the kitchen for the box I’d bought, then. Nice. I leaned to the right.

  “The other nightstand,” she said with a giggle, her nails rasping my stomach.

  I switched course and dug out a condom. Straddling her thighs, I rolled it on. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and then I maneuvered over her, my eyes burning into hers.

  I slicked her entrance with the head of my cock. Her mouth dropped open, the same eagerness that boiled in my veins reflecting in her eyes. But I wasn’t going any farther. Not yet. I needed to hear, more than anything, that she wanted me. Then I’d pound us both into sweet oblivion.

  “T-Tasha” was the only word I managed before she covered my lips with hers, dug her heels into my ass, and pushed me inside her.

  I took that as a fucking yes.

  Tasha

  Cade moved inside me, tasting my lips during each long thrust, and my heart ratcheted up one notch followed by a thousand more. Something explosive was happening between us. Something I couldn’t get enough of. It was sex, sure, but it was somehow more than sex, though I didn’t know how to define it.

  I ran my fingers along the colorful tattoos decorating his arm. His muscles flexed with each forward thrust. I shifted to meet his eyes, light brown gone burnt sienna while he made love to me with a single-mindedness I’d never experienced.

  He saw me. Really saw me.

  He wasn’t interested in his own body as much as mine. He’d move, then assess my reaction to see if I liked it. I liked all of it. Arms and legs wrapping him lovingly, I held his eyes until the intensity forced me to look away.

  He slid a hand between our bodies, swirling my clit with his thumb, and then thrusted his hips. This time I didn’t look away.

  “Don’t hold back,” he warned between breaths.

  When he stroked into me again, a cry tore from my throat. I shouted his name on the crest of my release, not caring how many neighbors heard. The tail end of that cry mingled with his low groan of primal male satisfaction.

  His face lowered to my neck, where he alternated between catching his breath and kissing me. I hugged him close, ruffling his hair with my fingernails, turning my head to kiss his ear.

  “Cade,” I whispered, our hearts racing in sync.

  He disconnected from me with one smooth movement, and our eyes clashed. His mouth, his amazing, tempting mouth, wore a crooked smile. I wondered if he’d felt it too—the way the earth had moved beneath us, the way he’d settled deeper than just into my body. As if he’d inhabited my very soul.

  He kissed my nose in the sweetest way before climbing over me and heading to the attached bathroom without a word, and I wondered if I’d imagined it.

  Half an hour later I was wearing Cade’s T-shirt—since my new dress had been unceremoniously tossed aside. He’d rested his head on my belly, one arm looped around my waist.

  I fiddled with his hair, admiring the multiple shades of dark blond and sandy brown I couldn’t accomplish without a colorist. That was as unfair as the thick fan of lashes that shuttered his eyes. No mascara required.

  “Tell me why you went into pre-law,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” he murmured, his hand squeezing my hip.

  I debated telling him what I knew. Since my best friend was dating his brother, I figured the truth would come out eventually. So. Here it went.

  “Rena mentioned a girl you followed to college?”

  His body stiffened against mine. I continued to play with his hair, unsure if he’d confess. Then he did.

  “Brooke.”

  “What happened?” I didn’t want to know. But I
kind of did. When he didn’t answer for a long while, I put my palm on his cheek and slid deeper into the blankets so that I could see his face. The angles of his cheekbones and his full mouth were softly shadowed by the lamplight.

  His fingers interlaced with mine and he kissed my palm. “She l-left me.” I watched his jaw tic in frustration.

  “But you still wanted to be a lawyer.”

  “I w-was g-good at talking. Was,” he added gruffly.

  “She wanted you to be a lawyer,” I corrected.

  “She wanted me to be rich. Luh-like her.”

  I didn’t know what to do with that. Caden Wilson had dated a rich girl. Had followed that rich girl to college. “Where is she now?”

  “Dr-dropped out. Didn’t finish her freshman year. She got pruh-pregnant by some guy.”

  I feathered my fingers through his hair.

  “You loved her.” It wasn’t a question. One didn’t follow a girl to college, go into the field she preferred, and then get left behind without suffering a broken heart in the process.

  “Doesn’t matter.” His voice was low, and I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

  But I wanted to know, for my own sake, if he was capable of loving anyone else. If he was capable of loving me. It was too soon to ask.

  “Do you miss school?” I asked instead.

  He sucked in a breath. When I thought he might deflect and mention it was time for him to go home, he instead propped himself up on one elbow and tipped my chin with his finger. “I don’t wanna be a luh-lawyer, T-Tasha. Not anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  He pointed at his mouth.

  “Hmm, I don’t know…” I pretended to contemplate as I raked my fingers over his bare chest. I couldn’t get enough of all that gorgeous muscle wrapped in smooth skin. “Your tongue seems to work just fine.”

  “You ain’t seen nuh-nothin’ yet,” he said, a feisty glint in his eye.

  He tossed the blankets off my body and lifted the shirt I wore, kissing my stomach while I laughed hysterically, because his lips, while delicious, were also tickling me half to death.

  “Cade!” I shrieked, palming his head.

  He captured my wrists and pinned them to my sides and kissed down my thighs then nuzzled his face over my…

  Oh.

  I stiffened. His tongue slicked a hot path and I arched my neck.

  A few minutes later, I sank into oblivion and he sank with me. Lost in an epic orgasm, and then in his arms, which were wrapped around me snugly.

  He kissed my forehead. “Night, Tash.”

  “Night, Cade.” Those were the last words we spoke until the sun peeked over the horizon and filled my room with light.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cade

  “Weirdest breakfast I’ve ever heard of.” Tasha shook her head at me or, more accurately, at the peanut butter and honey sandwich I was making.

  We’d slept until ten. She skipped class and neither of us had to go to our respective jobs until late afternoon. We had all day, and I was planning to make the most of it.

  “It’s good.” I drizzled honey onto the other slice of bread. “Mom used to make them.” I put the sandwich together and mumbled, “I mean, J-Joyce.”

  Tasha’s hand rested between my shoulder blades. “You mean your mom.”

  I shrugged.

  “I’m not that close with my mom, but we were close at one point. She still loves me. I still love her. I’m sure Joyce loves you no matter what choices you made last year after you found out the truth about your birth mom. You have the right to maintain your distance. Joyce might have meant well, but she hurt you.”

  “It’s messed up,” I said simply.

  “It is,” she agreed.

  My finger caught a drop of honey that oozed from the tip of the plastic bear, and a wholly impure thought ignited my brain like a forest fire. I sent a wicked look over to Tasha, whose eyebrows rose.

  “What?”

  I turned and held that stray drop to her lips. “You like honey?”

  “Yes.” An impish smile appeared a second before her tongue flicked out and took the drop from my fingertip.

  “Not as much as me.” Plastic bear-shaped bottle in hand, I took a bold step in her direction.

  She held up her hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I closed an arm around her back and pulled her close. “Take off your shirt.”

  She grinned, giving in a second later by stripping her shirt over her head. Her breasts were bare, her perfect nipples begging for my tongue.

  But first, the honey.

  I put the bottle down and plopped her onto the kitchen island. Last night I’d conceded and took her to bed but a fantasy lingered. I wasn’t giving it up this time. I upended the honey bear and drizzled the sticky syrup onto her nipple. She gasped, saying it was cold, but the sigh in the back of her throat hinted that it wasn’t a complaint. Gooseflesh popped up on her skin and I chased the path with my tongue.

  Her giggling soon faded to moans and a lot of hair pulling when I diligently removed every drop of honey from her nipple.

  “One down. One to go.” Best breakfast ever.

  I moved to the other nipple and repeated the sticky, delicious process. Golden honey dripped down her skin and I chased the path. She clutched my head, her tight breaths coiling as she wiggled on the countertop. I did a good job of turning myself on in the process. Without taking my attention from her breast, I opened my jeans and stroked my cock. I wanted her so badly, I could hardly think.

  A series of high-pitched pleas escaped from her throat as she tugged at my hair. I continued laving her, alternating between sucking her deep and swirling my tongue over her hardened nipples. Her voice cracked, and I let go of my cock before I came in my hand rather than inside her.

  I had to be inside her.

  Pushing her back flat to the island, I drizzled more honey onto her breasts, stomach, and into the shallow indent of her belly button. Then I peeled her panties off, this pair green with little white bows on each side. Her underwear made me crazy in the best way.

  “Don’t put honey down there,” she argued, sitting up halfway.

  “Not putting it th-there.” I smiled. “You’re already sweet there.”

  She blushed and batted her eyelashes demurely. I liked that look on her.

  I found her slick and ready. I teased her clit before pushing a finger into her, then two, and fucking her while I licked every remaining drop of honey from her body.

  She gripped the sides of the counter, holding on for dear life. I stared, in awe of how beautiful she was. I’d never done anything like this, and I bet she hadn’t either. But she always let me take control, to take us both where we needed to go. I loved how much she trusted me.

  “Beautiful.” I trailed my tongue along her throat and then caught her next shuddering plea on my lips. Then she shot up, pulled my hands off her body, and glued herself to my bare chest.

  I lifted her from the counter and carried her clumsily to the living room, blaming my aching erection for the lack of grace. I hesitated over the couch for a millisecond, but she read my mind.

  “I don’t care about the couch.”

  Good. Neither did I.

  I dropped her onto the cushions, shucking my jeans and boxers before coming down over top of her. I kissed her, wishing like hell I didn’t have to stop to find a condom.

  “Hang on.” I abandoned her for exactly two seconds to grab a condom from the discarded Rite Aid bag. I tore the package open, ripped a condom from the strip, and shakily rolled it on.

  A moment later I was moving deep inside her, remnants from the honey making our skin sticky. She didn’t seem to care, wrapping her legs around my thighs to pull me closer. I’d let this girl do anything to me or with me. This might have been the first time since Brooke left me that I actually enjoyed losing control.

  Which made me wonder, could I release my tight hold of control and speak clearl
y? Worth a shot.

  “Tasha,” I said, then smiled.

  She brushed her fingers over my mouth, her smile genuine, her cheeks flushed. Playfully, I bit the tip of her finger.

  “Tasha Montgomery.” Fuck, yes. I’d said her name and it was as smooth as her silken center. I thrust my hips again, harder this time. “I want you to come.”

  She let out a desperate cry.

  “Come hard for me, kitten.”

  The expression on her face was a split between bliss and bemusement.

  “You’re showing off,” she panted.

  “Damn straight.” She knew my secrets. Something else new for me. I doubled my efforts, sinking deeper, pounding harder. “Let’s have it.”

  “Almost, almost.”

  I tipped her hips and drove into her again. She came like I asked. Hard. Her internal muscles squeezed down on my cock, the amount of pleasure almost punishing. I’d been concentrating hard on her, so I wasn’t sure if I could—

  “Oh, fuck,” I breathed against her lips. Oh yeah, I could.

  My guttural moans drowned out her sweet sighs of satisfaction. With my lips on hers, I continued shuddering long after it was over. That’s when I knew.

  I was gone for this girl.

  Tasha

  “Your smile is that of a Cheshire cat, beautiful.”

  My, but Mr. Newman was feisty today. I shook my head.

  “Let me guess. You started dating that boyfriend you mentioned the last time I saw you.”

  “Dating” seemed a tame and antiquated way to describe what Cade and I had done on my now-in-need-of-a-cleaning sofa.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said with a small smile. But I wanted him to be.

  “Well, his fault.” Mr. Newman took another shaky step.

  “What’s his fault?” I asked, supporting his elbow.

  “Everything.” He lifted bushy eyebrows, knowledge reflecting in his gray eyes. “Everything is the man’s fault. Women are the delicate creatures we want to catch, but we always screw it up.” Gripping the poles on either side of his body, he took another step. “You’re the butterfly. Rather than come after you with a net, we grab a catcher’s mitt instead.”