by Aven Ellis
He rips his mouth away and presses it against my neck, his tongue dancing across the top of my shoulders. I shudder violently against him, my hands clutching at his dress shirt as a primal need to rip it takes over.
His mouth continues to burn against my skin while his hands climb up my ribcage. I tighten my legs around him, desperate for one thing.
Cade abruptly stops kissing me and jerks his head up. He puts his hands on my face, his eyes locked on mine, his breathing ragged.
“I want you,” he says urgently. “I want to make love to you. I want it so badly I can’t hold back, I can’t. I didn’t plan for this tonight. But after being with you today, seeing your passion, feeling what you feel, knowing how beautiful you are, I can’t hold it inside. I need to be with you. Only you.”
My heart pounds furiously against my ribs as I take in his words. He’s attracted to me for my soul.
Just as I am to his.
I search his eyes and I see desire, but not just for my beauty. But for the passionate woman I am inside. When Cade said he wanted all of me, he means more than physical.
I cup his face with my hands. “I want this. So much,” I say, staring deeply into the eyes of the man I’m falling for, knowing I’m making the choice to live in the moment. “I want you, too.”
Cade replies by passionately kissing me. I moan in protest when he breaks the kiss, but he ignores me and scoops me up from the countertop and carries me down the hallway. He takes me to my room, and we both fall back onto my bed.
His hard, muscular body presses against me, pinning me to the mattress, and our bodies entwine together with us fumbling with our sticky hands and flour-dusted bodies to remove clothing. I unbutton his shirt, moving my hands over his gloriously defined muscles and across the sexy Asian lettering tattooed along his ribcage. Heat surges through me as I do, and I begin kissing him all over. He’s sculpted and hard and I don’t want to stop touching him.
Cade removes my shirt and pushes himself up to gaze down at me, and my chest rises and falls at a rapid rate when he begins teasing me by tracing his fingertips over the delicate lace covering my nude strapless bra. I’m trembling with need for him. To feel all of him. To see what we are like together.
“Do I need protection?” Cade asks.
“I’m on the pill,” I say, running my hands over his powerful arms, the ones that are going to hold me tonight.
“Good,” he whispers, moving his hand around my back.
White heat shoots through me as he removes my bra. Cade stares at me for a moment, his eyes moving over me as I lie before him.
“You’re perfect, Josephine.”
Then, to my surprise, he lowers his mouth and places a gentle kiss between my breasts.
Over my heart.
Tears fill my eyes from the pure sweetness of his kiss.
I know, without a doubt, I’m not just having sex with Cade tonight.
I’m going to make love to him.
As we kiss and our bodies entangle again, I know I’ve hit the bottom of the rabbit hole.
I’ve fallen for Cade.
And there’s no going back now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I’ve never had sex like this in my life.
I stare up at Cade, who is gazing down at me, after we’ve finished making love for the first time.
He brushes his lips tenderly against mine, and I cup his face in my hands, lovingly kissing him back, blown away by what has happened between us.
Because this was, without a doubt, the most passionate, steamiest, most fulfilling sex I’ve ever had.
Cade rolls over onto the pillow next to me, and I turn so I can study the man who just loved me in all the right ways. Who made sure I reached earth-shattering heights of pleasure, who gave as much as he took, whose body was filled with raw passion and tenderness.
All for me.
Emotion fills my heart. That is what making love is, a connection of souls and a pure, overwhelming need to express our feelings by becoming one.
Cade reaches for me and pulls me into the crook of his arm, and I nestle against his chest, his skin hot against my cheek, his heart still pounding inside his chest.
His hand moves protectively down my shoulder, his fingertips dancing along my skin, his lips brushing sweetly against the top of my head.
“Josephine?”
I prop my head up on his chest so I can look at him. His hair is all tousled, and I see bits of dough stuck in it, but never has Cade been more beautiful than he is in this moment.
“Mmm?” I ask, pausing to drop a kiss on his muscular chest.
“That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had.”
I don’t need a mirror to know I’m beaming.
“It was for me, too.”
He runs his fingers through my hair, pausing to pick out a piece of pasta dough and flick it aside, which makes us both laugh.
“Also the doughiest sex I’ve ever had,” Cade quips. “I had no idea pasta sex was so freaking hot.”
I giggle. “Pasta sex.”
“We’ll keep it in the rotation.”
Elation fills me. Making love to Cade has confirmed everything my heart is feeling.
This is right.
We’re right.
“Well, I’m glad to see my recipe for pasta is multi-purpose,” I joke.
“Heck, yes,” Cade replies.
“You realize we don’t have dinner now.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Pizza?” I tease.
“Well, I don’t want to barge in and get the Pot Noodle cups from Jupe right now so, yes, pizza.”
I run my hand lower, over to his tattoo along his ribcage.
“What do your tattoos say?”
“I don’t know if I can tell you. It’s classified information.”
“Oh, the Cold War is back,” I tease.
Cade grins sexily at me. “Who knows? You might have seduced me for secrets. The next thing I know, you’ll be sneaking out the door while I’m in the shower.”
“There’s a huge hole in that theory.”
“Oh?”
“I live here. I wouldn’t be sneaking out.”
Cade makes a face. “Dammit.”
I laugh. “But obviously I slept with you purely to determine if this tattoo has some secret meaning.”
I trace my fingers over the Asian lettering, dying to know what it means.
Cade picks another piece of dough out of my hair. “I’ll translate the first character, but if you want to know the remaining four, you’ll need to seduce it out of me.”
Ohhhhhhh, I like this plan.
Cade slides his hand up along the back of my neck and gently draws my mouth toward his.
“The first symbol,” he says before kissing me, “is Chinese for life. A reminder to live life fully.”
Then he gives me a slow, sexy, deep kiss, one that makes heat build in me all over again.
Cade breaks the kiss and stares at me. “Now, you know the first one.”
Oh, this man is so hot.
“Any chance I could learn the second one tonight?” I suggest.
“Yes,” he replies without hesitation.
We both laugh.
“You know what I think?” I ask. “We’re both covered in flour and dough. We really should have a shower before dinner.”
“We?” Cade asks, clearly intrigued by this idea.
I run my hand over his chest, amazed by how muscular he is, and gaze into his eyes.
“I might need help washing dough out of my hair,” I say, playing the seductress.
His jade eyes flicker with desire as he stares at me.
“Yes, you will,” he says, drawing my mouth to his.
“I could wash your back,” I suggest.
Cade responds by brushing his lips against mine before speaking.
“Yes.”
I relish the feel of his warm mouth against mine. I slide my hand down, skimming over his amazing abdomin
als.
“Your abs,” I say against his mouth.
Cade kisses me and then abruptly breaks it.
“I’ve never wanted to be clean so bad in my life,” he says urgently. “Shower. Now.”
I giggle as he gets up and scoops me into his arms. I lock my hands around his neck, and he carries me to the bathroom. As I feel his hot skin against mine, his laughter against my cheek, his powerful arms holding me to him, I know this is the place I was meant to be.
And I see myself here forever.
***
I stir from my sleep and feel Cade’s warm body pressed against mine. A smile spreads across my face as I see his arm is locked protectively around my waist as he sleeps.
Bliss.
I relive the evening in my head. We made love. I learned the tattoo after “life” is “dream,” because Cade thinks it’s important to have a dream and follow it. Then Cade refused to tell me anymore because he didn’t want me to quit seeing him once I had gathered all of the information.
God, if he only knew. I have completely fallen for this man, his soul, his passion, his humor, his heart. After being with him, I can’t imagine ever being with anyone else.
Or him with anyone but me.
I bite my lip as Skye’s warning rolls around in my head. Love, for most people, is a long road.
Cade has made it clear he’s not in any hurry to rush in. I have to keep my focus on each day we’re together and hope he gets to where I am.
Because I don’t want to think what it would like if Cade never does.
I hear an unfamiliar alarm go off, and I feel Cade shift next to me in bed. The tone stops, and he rolls back next to me, immediately drawing me back to his body.
“Mmm,” I say, loving the delicious warmth of his skin against mine.
“Good morning, my sweet Josephine, it’s time to get up,” he murmurs in my ear, then places a gentle kiss on my temple.
My sweet Josephine.
He called me his Josephine.
I want him to say it again. And again. And again.
I want him to say it forever.
I turn around so I’m facing him. Cade gazes at me with a gentle expression, and I lift my hand to brush his dark hair away from his forehead.
“I don’t usually like Monday mornings, but I do today,” I say, smiling at him. “I like having you wake me up in person.”
Cade reaches for my hand and links my fingers with his, squeezing lightly.
“I can’t believe the weekend is over already,” he says.
I nod in agreement. For all intents and purposes, Sierra and Cade traded places this weekend. She stayed with Jude, and Cade stayed here. But while we’ve spent all our time together, and I’m not even close to ready for it to end.
“You’re leaving today,” I say, an ache forming in my stomach.
“Yeah. Media day is today, and then we go straight to Colorado Springs for training camp.”
“You won’t be back until Thursday night,” I say, moving my hand to his face and caressing it. “I’m going to miss you.”
Cade gazes down at me, a questioning look in his beautiful eyes. Instantly, I regret saying I would miss him. Shit! Panic grips me. Was that too much? Saying I’m going to miss him because he’s going to be gone for three days? In the normal dating world, three days is a normal separation for two people dating in the same city, let alone someone who travels for a job.
I shouldn’t have said it.
I never should have told him what I was feeli—
“You’ll miss me?”
“Yes,” I admit, praying my admission isn’t too much too fast for him.
“You promise?”
I blink.
“What?”
“Do you,” Cade says, taking my hand and placing it over his heart, “promise you’ll miss me like I’m going to miss you?”
Relief rushes through me, followed by joy.
“Yes,” I nod. “I promise.”
“Good,” Cade says. “Because I’m going to miss you, my sweet Josephine.”
I already miss him.
And I can’t wait until he comes back on Thursday.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I can’t concentrate on cupcakes.
No, that’s not an accurate statement.
I can’t concentrate on anything.
I’m in the test kitchen on Wednesday morning, and thanks to my non-stop thoughts about Cade, I totally messed up the first batch of batter by adding salt instead of sugar.
I scrape the Funfetti batter out of the bowl and dump it into the trash can. As I do, for the millionth time since he left on Monday, my thoughts drift to Cade.
We’ve had Connectivity Video Chats every night since he’s left. And texted. Snapchatted. Instagramed. You name the social media channel, we’ve used it to stay in touch.
It’s been interesting to see his life as a hockey player. On media day, Jude posted a funny video on Snapchat of Cade getting promotional pictures taken, telling him to show his abs for the ladies.
Of course, I completely understood; his abs are unbelievable.
And they belong to me.
I pause as I re-measure the flour and dump it into a bowl. Okay, they don’t belong to me. I mean, Cade and I aren’t even technically boyfriend and girlfriend.
We’ve only been going out for ten days.
Claiming his abs would be wrong.
Yet knowing it is wrong doesn’t mean my heart agrees.
I reach for the sugar—verifying my container is yes, actual sugar—and pour some into a measuring cup.
The door to the prep room swings open and Sierra walks in, pushing a cart filled with ingredients.
“Hey!” she says, smiling at me. “What are you working on?”
“Funfetti cupcakes.”
“Mmm. Can I taste test for you?”
“Yes, but only if you agree to test the brownie batter one, too,” I tease.
Sierra screws up her face as she begins to set up down the counter from me.
“Um, no, that’s gross,” she says.
“I swear you are the only person I’ve ever met that doesn’t like chocolate,” I declare, adding baking soda to the bowl of dry ingredients.
“I know, I’m unique,” Sierra says, setting a huge head of romaine lettuce on the countertop. “You know who you should get to test your chocolate cupcake? Maxime. He’s a chocolate lover and has stuff shipped over from Belgium because he likes it better.”
“Hey, maybe I can use Belgian chocolate in my recipe,” I say, my thinking wheels turning.
“Maxime would probably test it for you without you using Belgian chocolate, but hey, let the inspiration take you wherever it may,” Sierra jokes.
I put down my measuring spoon. “You know, maybe we can have a little taste testing party when Skye comes in.”
“That would be fun,” Sierra agrees, arranging things on her cutting board. We both go back to work, and silence falls between us as we concentrate on our tasks.
After I pour the Funfetti batter into the cupcake pan, I grab my iPad to snap a picture to send to Skye. She’ll be excited about these, I know it.
I send Skye a quick update of what I’ve been doing this week. I ask if she wants an elevated brownie batter cupcake with Belgian chocolate, and what is her availability to fly back out for a tasting. I can see Skye is currently online, and as I’m about to send the email, a message from her pops up on my screen.
SkyeReeve: Hi JoJo!!!! How are you?
I can practically hear her bubbly personality in her words.
JoJoR: I’m great! I’m about to send you an email. I have FUNFETTI CUPCAKES going in the oven. Filled with extra Funfetti goodness just for you. ☺
SkyeReeve is typing . . .
SkyeReeve: Funfetti should be served at every meal. Who isn’t happy at the sight of FUNFETTI?
I picture Angelique’s face if she was being served Funfetti pancakes for breakfast and nearly lose it. Oh! Idea! I qu
ickly type Skye back.
JoJoR: I have an article idea for you-we should do Funfetti for Breakfast. Like Funfetti pancakes!
SkyeReeve is typing . . .
SkyeReeve: PLEASE MAKE THIS HAPPEN. I mean, even if they don’t want another article, I can blog it! Oh! Speaking of blogs, thanks for reading that first one I sent you last week. I put it up on Saturday, and you should see the responses! A lot of women emailed me to thank me for speaking the truth about relationships and for sharing how important it is to not be swept away and taking the time to be real about them. I’m so thrilled I could help people!
A knot forms in my stomach. I bite my lip. Skye’s words make me wonder if I’ve made a mistake. She says it’s important not get swept away by feelings, but it’s too late for me. I’ve officially fallen. I’m all in, and there’s no turning back.
I shove my iPad aside, worry consuming me.
My chest draws tight as a very real fear sweeps over me. I know Cade is not going to fall easily. He’s obviously not going to make the same mistake that he did with his ex, Cassidy. He’s going to be more than cautious.
He’s not going to give his heart until he’s completely sure.
I realize I’m gambling all of my heart now. I have no guarantee Cade will ever fall for me in the way I’ve fallen for him.
And with hockey season starting up, he’ll be busy.
On the road.
And away from me.
Will his feelings be able to grow when he’s so busy? When he’s not here? Will the season take all his focus? Not to mention all the women going after him, presenting him with options at every turn.
Could hockey take him away from me?
Tears fill my eyes. Okay. This is stupid. I can’t control the future. I can’t control the what ifs. I need to accept that whatever happens will happen. I won’t freak him out. I won’t go declaring feelings for him. Nor will I demand in two months that Cade tell me where he sees us going.
If we’re still together in November, that is.
I angrily pick up the pan of cupcakes and pop them into the preheated oven, resisting the urge to slam the door shut on them.
