by BJ Harvey
“Mom, please, for the love of God, take the boys out into the corridor so Cade and I can at least put some clothes on before I formally introduce him to half the family.”
“Sure thing, precious,” she says, smiling brightly at us. She does as I asked but walks backwards, watching us intently as I stand, trying to protect both of our modesty. Mom tilts her head to the side, her eyes dropping to Cade’s bare butt as he stands from the couch.
“Mom . . .” I warn. Her head jerks up and I narrow my eyes, shaking my head at her but secretly proud of the fact I have a man with an ass worth checking out.
I’m giggling like a school girl when Cade and I reach my bedroom and shut the door behind us.
“I’m so sorry,” I say between laughs.
He pushes me up against the door, pressing his body into mine and holding me in place as he buries his face in my neck and chuckles. Peppering kisses along my jaw, he places a gentle kiss on my lips, his dancing eyes looking straight at me. “That’s one way to meet the family.”
“They interrupted Naked Sunday, the clam jammers,” I reply with a pout.
He nips my bottom lip before soothing the sting with this tongue. “It just means I can strip you bare the minute they leave and take you against the wall.”
Oh hell yes, I like that idea.
“Still liking our real?” I ask, running my fingers through his almost-sex-mussed hair.
“I like this being real. A lot of my life hasn’t been, so I like that I have a slice of real with you.”
Seeing how open and honest he’s being, I can’t—and don’t even try—to stop myself from saying what comes next, because I want to say it. I need to say it.
“I think I’m falling for our real,” I say quietly.
A slow-growing smile plays on his lips before he lowers his forehead to mine and whispers back, “That’s good, because I’m already gone.”
“I see you do own clothes,” Cohen grumbles from the couch as Cade and I enter my living room.
“Hi to you too, Co,” I reply.
“Hi. I’m Marcy,” Mom says, standing up and walking towards us, wrapping her arms around Cade’s shoulders.
“Hey,” he says warmly. “Not exactly how I thought I’d meet you.”
“Believe me, I’m so not complaining.”
“Mom,” the guys groan, Bryant and Jaxon shaking their heads at our shameless mother.
“Feel free to stop glaring at him,” I tease my brothers.
“Give me a break. I walked in to an eyeful of my sister getting mauled,” Jaxon says with a grimace.
“Think of it as revenge from when I walked in on you and Sarah Nonnemacher going at it in the back shed,” I retort.
“What?” Mom gasps, her head snapping to my brother. “She was with Jason Harris all throughout high school.”
“You do know that Sarah was rather friendly with most of the male students of their senior year, don’t you?” I explain.
Mom shrugs. “Nothing wrong with being friendly, just not when you’re with someone.”
I look at Cade with my eyes bugging out in a ‘please don’t leave me with them’ glare.
His lips twitch, and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. “Nothing wrong with being friendly, Spitfire, as long as I’m the only one you’re being that kind of friendly to.”
He places a gentle kiss on my temple and lets me go before walking up to the three members of the How Dare You Touch My Sister firing squad sitting menacingly on my couch. I leave them to it and make my way into the kitchen to make coffee.
“You’re either Bryant or Jaxon?” Cade says, looking between the twins.
“Bryant,” he replies gruffly, attempting a strong-arm handshake. I bite my lip to stifle a snort at Cade’s non-response, making a note to repay him with sexual gratitude once Naked Sunday activities can be resumed.
Jaxon doesn’t move from the couch, just lifting his hand to Cade when Bryant sits down.
Cohen, however, shoots daggers at my man, standing up and puffing out his chest when Cade reaches him.
“You must be Cohen.”
“Funny, you know me yet my sister hasn’t said anything about you.”
“Co . . .” I warn.
His eyes turn to mine, a cocky smirk replacing his scowl. “Don’t worry, Sis. We promise we won’t hurt him—”
“Much,” the twins say in unison.
Cade, the crazy mofo, just laughs, stepping away from them and taking a seat in the recliner.
Walking over to him, I hand him a coffee, and with nowhere else to sit—and no better place to sit—I lower myself down onto the arm of Cade’s chair. Obviously not happy with this, his arm snakes around my hips to pull me down into his lap.
“Better,” he murmurs when my eyes snap to his. A wave of warmth flows through me, and as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, my body melts into his.
“So, instigating your own sneak attack, Mom?” I ask, turning my attention to my mother.
“Precious, aren’t I allowed to visit my only daughter?” she says with feigned innocence.
I narrow my eyes at her. “On a Sunday morning before”—I check the clock on the wall—”ten a.m.?”
“We were in the area,” she says, struggling to hide a wry smile.
“Sure. All of you just happened to be in my neighborhood,” I mutter. “Where are Dad and Jamie?”
“Golf,” Jaxon replies with a smirk.
“Cade, it’s so good to finally meet you,” Mom says, obviously trying to change the subject.
“You too, Mrs. Cook.”
“Call me Marcy, please. Mrs. Cook makes me feel old.”
“Okay,” he replies with that swoon-worthy smile of his, charming my mother instantly if her glazed eyes and lop-sided grin are anything to go by.
“What are your intentions with our sister?” Cohen asks, his voice low and menacing.
I tense like a virgin on prom night and turn to face Cade. “Don’t answer that.”
He chuckles and gives my thigh a comforting squeeze. “Your sister and I have known each other for a while. I like her, respect her, and want to see where things go between us. Not that it’ll happen, but if I ever hurt her, I give you permission to kick my ass in any way you see fit.”
I sag back into him, loving the way he didn’t hesitate to lay it all out for my very protective younger brother. Cohen may be the baby of the family but he is also the über-staunch one.
To his credit, Cohen’s expression turns from scary to relaxed. “Good answer,” he says with a nod. Bryant and Jaxon grin at me, and that warm feeling cloaking me wraps me up tight.
“How’s work, Abs?” Jaxon asks.
“Good. I’ve applied to take a day-time position.”
Cade’s fingers flex, and I feel his eyes on me.
“You don’t want to work nights anymore?” Bryant says.
“I’ve worked nights for three years now. Since things in my life have changed, I want to have more time to enjoy them.” In particular, the man I’m currently sitting on.
Cade leans over and puts his empty cup on the coffee table, wrapping his arms around me when he sits back. I don’t miss Mom’s eyes watching us or her quiet sigh at the sight.
“Your dad’s running for mayor. Is that going to have any effect on you two?” Jaxon asks, causing my mouth to drop open. How on earth does he know that?
“Hasn’t so far. It’s actually what brought us together in a way,” I reply before Cade can say anything. Jaxon watches us, his gaze contemplative.
I love the fact that Cade isn’t shying away from touching me. He’s not being standoffish in the face of my family. He’s just being himself and in showing them that, hopefully they can see that we’re striving for something real.
“So,” I say, clapping my hands together, “now that we’ve got the awkward ‘hurt my sister and die’ talk out of the way. Why are you really here?” I know their motivations, and it’s either going to
be a bloodbath—not sure who’ll win out of my brothers and Cade though—or a scene out of a comedy movie.
“That’s all we’ve got,” Bryant says with a laugh. “Mom told us you had a new man. We wanted to make sure he was legit and not a douche like the last one. “
“That was years ago.”
“It’s also the last time you dated someone seriously, Abs,” he retorts.
Well, shit.
“Really?” Cade asks him. Note: He didn’t ask me.
Bryant, Jaxon, and Mom all laugh, but Cohen—still in defensive mode—doesn’t even crack a smile. God, I love the little bastard. “The last guy she introduced us to was the dickhead douche face who fucked her over,” he says.
“Did you fuck him over?” Cade asks.
“Too fucking right we did,” Jaxon replies.
“What?” I gasp, not knowing this little tidbit of information. “What did you do?” I ask my brothers.
Cohen finally cracks a grin. “Let’s just say he wasn’t doing anything comfortably for a while once we were finished with him.”
“Did you know about this?” I ask Mom.
She shrugs—shrugs—and downs the rest of her coffee, her non-answer saying it all.
“I . . . I can’t believe you guys did that. Jamie too?”
“Jamie was the ring leader.”
My mouth drops open and I just stare at three of the five—okay, now six—important men in my life, tears stinging my eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper, and all of their expressions go soft.
“Anything for you, Abs. Always and forever,” Cohen says gruffly.
“I know you’ll probably be spending Thanksgiving with your family, Cade, but you are most welcome to join us at our home,” my mother says after giving me a hug goodbye.
Jeez, no pressure, Mom.
I look up and meet his eyes, knowing that he’ll have to decline because somehow I don’t see Annabel and Cade Snr allowing their children not to attend a no doubt traditional Thanksgiving dinner at Castle de Carsen.
“Thanks. I’d love to come.”
Say what?
My surprise must be written all over my face, because Cade chuckles and pulls me into his side, kissing my temple. “If Abi would like me to, of course.”
“I . . . ah . . . sure, but won’t your parents be expecting you?”
His expression turns to one of amusement. “This year they can expect me not to be there. I can touch base with Callie and Jonathan in the morning, but I’ll be spending the rest of the day with my girlfriend and her family.” Swoon alert.
Mom is positively giddy now. “Awesome. We’ll let you get back to your Sunday plans,” she says with a knowing wink and I groan.
“Mom . . .”
“Oh, precious. You need to relax a little. I’m sure Cade can help you with that,” she says with a giggle followed by a wave of groans and “Mom” from my brothers waiting in the corridor.
“Bye Mom,” I say with a laugh. Never let it be said that it’s not entertaining—and occasionally embarrassing—having a free spirit for a parent.
As soon as the door closes, Cade’s eyes change from free and easy to determined and heated. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“So are you.”
“I should do something about that.”
“You should.”
“Any suggestions?”
“Follow your gut,” I reply with a coy smile, slowly backing away from him.
“How about I follow my cock?” He stalks me, one step forward to every one of mine retreating back.
“That works too.”
Cade wastes no time in stripping me naked after that, taking me on the couch . . . and the floor . . . and the kitchen counter, too.
Three hours later, I’m dozing in bed when the sheet at my waist slowly slides down towards the end of the bed, Cade’s palm smoothing over my hip and around to the small of my back then over my ass.
“Mmmmm,” I moan, spreading my legs and hoping he gets the hint.
I should’ve known he wouldn’t need any encouragement.
His fingers delve down, his thumb easing inside me while his index finger initiates a swirl and press manoeuver that should be taught to every man for the future pleasure of all womankind.
“So wet . . .” he says, pressing his naked body—and the exquisite hard-on—into my side. “I can’t get enough of you.”
My stomach flutters, and I bury my face in the pillow to stifle my surprised gasp when he bites my shoulder.
“You’re testing my recovery time,” he murmurs
Turning my head to look at him, I run my arm between us and wrap my hand around his cock, giving a firm squeeze on my upward stroke.
“Feels like you’re holding up just fine,” I say with a wry smile.
“I’m always hard for you.”
Why does that make me feel so damn good?
“Too much talking,” I whimper as he adds a second finger. I stroke him again, down then up, swiping my thumb across the sensitive tip. Two can play at this game.
“I like you vocal. I love to hear you moan . . .” His hands part my legs farther as he languidly pushes inside me. “Especially when I do that.”
Wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his hips, I let him take me as he powers into me with forceful thrusts that reverberate throughout my entire body. This is beyond sex—this is surreal fucking that should be documented for future generations. It would be a worldwide bestseller: How To Rock Her World By Completely Shattering Her Vagina.
That’s the last coherent thought I have for a good long while. One thing I’m absolutely certain of is that Cade Carsen does not lack anything in any way, shape, or form, especially stamina.
I never thought I’d say this, but right now I’m glad Naked Sundays only happen once a week.
Hello, Penis, it’s me, Vagina—and I need a time out.
The Friday before Thanksgiving, I’m working a shift at the Pink Monkey when my friend—and manager—Brandi trots her way over to me.
“You always get the hot ones,” she says petulantly.
“What?” I reply with a laugh.
“In the red room, end of the hall, there is a sex-on-legs tall drink of water waiting for you. Paid over and above to have you—and only you—dance for him.”
“Really?” My eyes widen. Yes, it’s a high-end establishment, and I’ve never once complained about a customer’s tip, but a guy paying a whack just to have me dance for him in a private room is something that does. Not. Happen. The flat rate is already enough to hurt the pocket. I’m really hoping it’s Cade, but I’m not sure being seen in a strip club partaking in the services would be a good look for the son of the next mayor of Chicago.
“What does he look like?” I ask, deciding that it’s probably best to do some digging before accepting whatever fate lies behind the door. I have made it a point not to do any private lap dances since Cade and I made our deal.
Brandi shoots me a grin. “He said you’d ask that and made me promise not to say anything. But girl, there is no way even you will be disappointed at this one. He’ll rue the fact that there is a no touching policy in effect.” She rubs her chin. “Although, that policy was meant for guys touching the girls—didn’t say anything about you girls touching them.” She winks at me before waving me off. “Now get your fine ass down there and make him happy. Although not that happy . . .”
“Brandi!” I gasp. “I’m kind of with someone . . . well, I am with someone. And it’s monogamous.” It’s all in or not at all, pretty much my life mantra, which is hilarious since it took Cade and I so long to realize we weren’t fooling anyone except ourselves.
“Girl, you know I don’t know the meaning of the word. Just go show the dude a good time but not too good a time. You will not regret it, babe. Know what I mean?” she jokes, elbowing me.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” I eye her suspiciously. She’s got a wicked gleam in her eye, one that’s usually only reserved
for her sugar daddy Roger—the owner of the club.
Me and my red patent leather heels make our way down the long black carpeted corridor towards the room right at the end, the illuminated light above the door the only indication that there’s someone waiting. My heart batters my chest like a jackhammer, my nerves through the roof as I turn the handle and step into the room, ninety-nine point nine percent sure that it will be Cade waiting me—at least I hope he is, otherwise things are about to get awkward. With a smile on my face I close the door, my throat tightening when I see a tall, very well-dressed man with beautiful clear eyes and a huge bright smile on his face.
But it’s not Cade waiting for me.
It’s my ex, Bryce.
Suddenly, I’m back to the uncertain girl I was eight years ago when I first met him. I’d been nursing a bruised heart and was ripe for the picking. I’d fallen hard and fast for him. His cocky swagger, honey-colored eyes, and adorable smile had won me over quicker than a slapper could jump on a hard dick. But deceit, distrust, and drugs ruined the memory of what we had before.
He’s aged well, and definitely looks a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw him. He’d been leaner, twenty pounds below healthy for his six-foot height. His floppy black hair had been a month past needing a cut and at least a week past needing a wash, and his eyes, still the same color of green grass that you just want to get lost in.
“Hey Abs,” he says, his eyes scanning my rather exposed body from head to toe before meeting mine.
“Why are you here?”
“It’s been a long time,” he says, ignoring my question.
“You’re right. It has. Not long enough though. Why. Are. You. Here?” I repeat, my hands fisted on my hips.
I remember what Cade said to me at our first dinner/date a few months ago.
“If you ever see that asshole and I’m with you, don’t tell me because it won’t look good for the future mayor if one of his sons is facing an assault charge.”
“Baby . . .”
That sets me right off. “Oh no. You do not get to see me for the first time in six years and turn on your bullshit charm.”
His head jerks back, and I swear I can see respect in his eyes, something I can’t remember ever seeing when we were together.
