The Last Guy

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  “Is that so . . .” My eyes drift to Cade’s.

  “Sissy is a vermiculturist,” he says in a superior tone, as if everybody knows what the hell that is.

  “Ah!” my date interjects. “You study the conversion of waste and dead tissue into organic material by earthworms. Very specialized work!”

  “That’s right!” Sissy moves closer to Phil.

  Cade pulls my attention right back to him. “I thought you were eating tacos and going to bed early.”

  Again, my face flames red. I never should have told him that.

  “You like tacos?” Phil cries. “I know the best place for tacos in all of Houston!”

  “What?”

  He’s up and digging in his jeans, and I’m looking from my half-finished martini to him as he takes Cade’s hand and pumps it. “I’m Phil Byars.”

  “Cade Hill.”

  Phil puts a wad of twenties on the table and grins at me. “Let’s split.”

  “What about dinner?” I’m confused.

  “Forget all this superficiality. If you love tacos, you’re having tacos.”

  “I want to go!” Sissy takes another step closer to my date.

  “Didn’t you just eat?”

  “There’s always room for a taco,” she laughs, and I can’t decide if I like this girl or if I want to punch her for being a size zero and saying something like that.

  “Sure, we can join you,” Cade’s voice is still irritated, and it fans my own irritation.

  “We don’t want to spoil your evening.” I slug the rest of my martini and go to Phil’s side, putting my hand in the crook of his arm.

  “I don’t mind!” Sissy looks expectantly at Phil. “So you know about vermiculture?”

  “Only a little.” My date steps forward, out of my grasp.

  Wonder Woman saunters off with Fantasy Phil, and I’m left following them at Cade’s side. The tension vibrating between us is like heat on my skin.

  We pause as Cade tosses a few hundred-dollar bills on his table. I take in small appetizer plates and several shot glasses and raise an eyebrow at him. “Doing shots with all the girls?”

  His lips tighten. “Only you, Stone. Only you.”

  I half-snort as we pass quickly through the foyer and out into the cool night. It’s actually a perfect night, not too cold, no wind, and a sky full of stars.

  Phil looks around and calls to us. “We can walk from here. It’s two blocks up and to the left.”

  I fumble through my memory. The only thing in that direction is White Oak Park. “It’s in the park?”

  “Trust me,” Phil says, returning to his conversation with Sissy.

  Cade and I follow, and the tightness in my shoulders is almost unbearable. After the amazing day we had today, I can’t believe he just flat-out lied to me about going to his mother’s. Five more steps, and I can’t take it anymore.

  “You said you were going to your mother’s.” My voice is way poutier than I’d intended, but I don’t care. I am a woman wronged.

  “You wanted space.” His voice is simmering with anger. He looks at me and then glares at Phil’s back. “Is that what space looks like to you?”

  As a matter of fact . . . I consider my ridiculous conversation with Phil. I think of my recurring dream of the handsome man who blasts off to Mars shortly after giving me the greatest O of my life. Looking ahead, I see Phil and Sissy have stopped at a silver food truck right at the entrance to the park. Of course, Mr. Mortal Shell would take us to a food truck. Still, they’re laughing and talking like old friends.

  My chest sinks, and I realize everything is wrong.

  “I hate space,” I say softly.

  Cade steps in front of me and puts both hands on my shoulders, stopping me. “What do you really want, Stone?”

  I blink up, our eyes meet, and I can’t deny the heat flooding my core. I think I know what I want . . . I know for sure what I don’t want.

  Giving up the fight, I confess. “I want you.”

  His anger melts into a smile. “Let’s get rid of these guys.”

  “But we’re on dates.” My gaze flickers to the couple now munching on Mexican and sitting on a park bench.

  “I have an idea to fix that.”

  “Does it involve you and me alone?”

  His eyes sweep over me, and I shiver at the lick of fire that moves up my spine. “Yes.”

  Cade

  MY IDEA IS simple: I pretend like I’ve gotten a call from the station about an incident at a college football game and they want me to come in. I inform Sissy—who doesn’t seem all that interested.

  She glances from her taco to Phil. “Do you mind if I hang out here with these guys?”

  Yes, sweet baby Jesus. “Absolutely not. Enjoy yourself.” I shoot a quick look to Stone. “Good to see you tonight, Stone. I’ll see you back at the office on Monday.”

  The next second she pretends to get a text from Chas who suddenly needs a ride to the ER because she isn’t feeling well.

  “Poor Chas,” Stone says with a hand over her heart. “She’s too weak to drive. I should go.”

  Phil stands. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  Stone at first looks horrified then quickly recovers. “Oh, no. She’s projectile vomiting, and she’d die if a stranger saw her that way. You stay and enjoy chatting with Sissy.” Her eyes brush over the pretty brunette.

  She pretends to start to call an Uber.

  “Don’t do that,” I say. “Your place is on the way to the station. Let me drop you off . . .”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful. You’re so nice, Cade.” Her eyes flutter up at me, and I bite back a grin.

  Sissy watches us suspiciously. “How convenient that you can ride together,” she murmurs.

  “Isn’t it?” Stone says brightly.

  “Maj ram,” Phil says with a little bow.

  We’re forgotten as Sissy turns to him. “That’s goodnight in Klingon!”

  I’m pretty sure I see stars in Phil’s eyes. “You’re right!”

  “Right,” I say shaking his hand.

  We say our goodbyes and hustle to my Escalade in valet parking at the restaurant. The tension is thick, and my fists are tight on the steering wheel as I drive as fast as traffic will allow. I don’t care if Phil is weird or Sissy talks too fucking much about worms—all I can focus on is an image of Stone in my apartment, spread out and naked.

  My parking job is sloppy, and I take her arm as I escort her to the elevator. The doors slide open, and thank God it’s empty.

  She wraps her hand around my bicep. “You’re shaking.”

  I repeatedly push the button for the penthouse. “I want you so bad I can’t breathe.”

  “I can’t breathe either,” she whispers.

  My eyes find hers, and all at once, her back is against the metal wall. I run my lips up her exposed throat and suck on her soft skin, groaning at the taste of her. “You taste like everything good, Stone.”

  She sinks into me, her tits hitting my chest.

  I fuse my mouth with hers and take what I want. Hard. A small part of me is still angry about Phil even though I have no right to be. We kiss like we’re starving, our lips clinging, our hands roaming.

  She cups my ass as I kiss across her neck, nibbling on her collarbone.

  I need more.

  Unzipping the back of her dress, I push it down just past her shoulders until I see creamy bare skin.

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” I say as I tilt her face up and kiss her again.

  She hisses in pleasure as I wrap her leg around my hip and press the steel pipe in my pants against her core. “You feel that Stone? That’s all you.”

  “The elevator . . .” she says between kisses. “What if someone sees us?”

  “I don’t give a fuck.”

  I kiss her breasts, tugging them out of her red lace bra but leaving it on. My mouth zeros in on one nipple while my fingers tweak the other. Her breasts are calling my name, and I
suck them, needing as much of her in my mouth as I can fit.

  She moans as I pull her dress up from the hem and slip a finger inside her underwear. She’s soaking wet, and it ratchets up my need. Fuck.

  “I want to eat you. Now.” I sink to my knees and yank her red panties to her ankles.

  Trembling, she kicks them across the elevator and lifts a leg up to the metal bar that runs along the wall. “Now it is.” Her voice is breathless.

  I love how wild she is.

  Thank fuck I have a slow ass elevator.

  She’s already swiveling her hips before I even touch her, shuddering and then groaning when my tongue snakes out to find her clit.

  “Cade,” she cries.

  Need. Desire. Lust. It all bangs in my head . . . in my cock.

  “Please,” she moans as I tease her, my nose tracing along her legs, her thighs, and then back to her pussy.

  “Look at me,” I rasp out.

  Her hooded eyes flutter open, her irises dilated. Her mouth is red and swollen from my kisses and I get a shiver of satisfaction.

  She’s mine.

  “Don’t ever fucking see Phil again.”

  She inhales sharply at the order.

  “Stone?” I rub my index finger over her clit, teasing her with little brushes. “Do you understand?”

  She nods and bites her lips. “Yes.”

  “Good.” With languid thrusts, I play her with two fingers. “You want more?” I ask.

  “Please.” Her voice is guttural. “Your mouth.”

  I grunt, my caresses faster as I try to beat the elevator, dipping inside her and then out. “Have you ever felt this kind of heat before?”

  “No,” she moans, her chest rising rapidly.

  That’s exactly what I needed to hear. My mouth takes her wetness again, inhaling her scent as my tongue dances across her pink skin.

  She stifles her voice with her fist and comes undone, her muscles vibrating around my fingers.

  I watch her come, stroking her through the sensations, getting a thrill at how her eyes gloss over. I’m king of the fucking world.

  Slightly dazed, she rests against the wall.

  Ping. We’ve arrived at my floor. I tuck her back in her clothes, zip her dress up, grab her underwear, and escort her off the elevator to my door. I’m barely coherent.

  “I-I can’t believe we did that,” she whispers. “Aren’t there cameras in there?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I say as we enter the apartment.

  I shut the door behind me, turn her around and kiss her again, the taste of her still on my tongue. I can’t get enough.

  I sweep her up in my arms and carry her to my king-sized bed.

  While she sits on the bed, I quickly whip my jacket and shirt off, tossing them on the chair in the corner.

  She licks her lips. “Are we really going to do this? I-I don’t want to be hurt. I’ve had some shitty stuff happen . . .”

  “We both have.” I unzip my pants and my hard cock pops out as my slacks pool on the ground. I toe my socks off and kick my clothes away. “Are you having second thoughts?” My jaw clenches with control. I don’t want her to see how the thought of not having her kills me. I want this to be her decision.

  She swallows, her gaze molten as it sweeps over my shoulders, down to my chest and then to my legs.

  I smirk and turn around so she can see my ass. I pose and flex.

  She lets out a contented sigh. “I want to bite it.”

  “What’s stopping you?” I turn back and walk toward her, stopping at the edge of the bed. She leans forward and takes me in her mouth as I groan and clutch her head, guiding her how I like it.

  She sucks, sliding her tongue over my shaft from base to tip. Her fingers wrap around my length as she devours me.

  “Fucckkk.”

  Her mouth explores me, and I am losing control.

  “Stone,” I growl.

  “You want me to stop?” she murmurs.

  “I’ll kill you if you do.”

  She laughs softly around my cock.

  Pleasure—and something else—settles deep inside me. “What are you doing to me, woman?”

  “What I want to do every time I see you at work.”

  I tilt her face up and slide my thumb across her lips. The moment is serious. Intense. “This will change things for us. I don’t know how it will end.”

  She nods, her eyes heavy with desire. “I just want you,” she says.

  We make quick work of getting her dress off, and we’re both naked.

  She moans for me to hurry, but I take my time, positioning her under me so I can do what I want. I gently pin her arms on either side of her and kiss her languidly, exploring and mapping her skin . . . the column of her throat, the bend in her elbow, the freckle on her chest. Her skin feels as hot as mine.

  She whimpers and pushes her pelvis up to rub against my hips. “I’m ready for you to fuck me.”

  I laugh and kiss her on the lips. “Beg me,” I say and then lean down and take one of her tits in my mouth and suck.

  “Cade, please . . .” Her fingers claw at me, pulling me down and crushing our bodies together.

  Fuck me. I can’t wait any longer to get my cock inside her.

  I get up to grab a condom. We’d been pretty careless last time, and I have no intention of pulling out tonight. I rip it open, slide it on, and go back to her.

  “I’m clean,” I tell her. “I know what the gossip magazines say about me, but I’m selective about who I fuck.”

  “Am I just a fuck?” she asks.

  Her hair is everywhere, and I lean over and tuck it behind her ear. “Never.”

  My fingers slip inside her again, sliding, curling over the bundle of nerves in her G-spot. I suck her clit—fuck I can’t get enough. I grab her hip to pull her closer.

  Need claws at me as my cock pushes inside her. She’s so wet it’s as smooth as silk.

  I flip her over like a ragdoll, raise her hips, and slide inside her on a groan. I grunt and toss my head back, maneuvering to get deeper. More of her.

  But something’s missing.

  “No,” I growl and flip her back over. “I want to see your face.”

  “Whatever you want,” she whispers.

  I bury my face in her neck and fuck her hard. I twist my hips for a new position, deeper, grinding, and she writhes underneath me.

  “More,” she begs, grabbing my shoulders.

  Our sex is hot, fast, and furious, my strokes scooting us up to the headboard. She calls out and clings to me, milking my cock with her orgasm.

  I go over right after, vibrating as I roar my release. I arch my back, grabbing her hands and riding it out, my cock tightening and expanding.

  Collapsing down, I pull her up to the pillows and settle her in front of me with her back to my chest. “Stone,” I stop and swallow, my voice thick. “That was . . . fucking amazing.”

  “Yeah.”

  Her stomach rumbles.

  I rise up and brush a hand down to cup her shoulder. “We never had dinner.”

  She turns to face me, her expression soft. “I have Door Dash. How do you feel about Doritos Locos Tacos?”

  I kiss her nose. “I’m in, babe.”

  All the way in.

  Rebecca

  CADE’S DRESS SHIRT is the only thing covering my naked body, which is covered in the scent of his expensive body wash. I’d taken a quick shower while he waited for our delivery, and now we’re sitting facing each other with two beers, a pile of orange and white Taco Bell wrappers, and hot sauce packets scattered between us.

  “I like the nacho cheese best.”

  “I bet I could whip up a healthier version of this,” Cade says, examining the vivid red-orange shell. An unexpected surge of happiness filters through my stomach at his words. I watch as he takes a bite and groans, nodding. “Mm—maybe later.”

  We both sit back crunching and grinning. I allow my eyes to run down the black silk robe he’s
wearing. It’s open to reveal the lines in his stomach, and my body hums thinking how I was just all over that. Naked.

  My mind is absolutely blissed out, and I’m taking a sip of Modelo when, “Oh!” A fluffy white head peeks out from behind the black leather sofa. “Cade! It’s your kitty!” I put my beer down and jump up.

  “Killer, meet the famous Rebecca Fieldstone. Stone for short.” His rich voice follows me as I tiptoe around the glass coffee table toward the tiny white furball.

  Cutting my eyes back at him, I almost sigh audibly from the sight of that gorgeous man draped in black silk and surrounded by tacos. I’m pretty sure I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  A little mew pulls me back to Earth. “Killer? You call this pretty kitty Killer?”

  “Don’t be fooled. She’s like that bunny from Monty Python.” The tease in his voice does all kinds of crazy things to my insides.

  “Is that so?” I kneel down to stroke her soft, white head. “Then I’d better get the Holy Hand Grenade.”

  “Of Antioch.”

  That makes me laugh, and I scratch the side of Killer’s cheek. She studies me with huge blue eyes then pushes forward against my hand, rubbing along my forearm. “You are a surprise a minute, Cade Hill.”

  “I could say the same to you.”

  His voice is low and rich, and my stomach flutters so hard, I know I won’t be eating any more tacos tonight. I stand, shaking my head.

  “What?” he asks.

  Racking my brain, I try to think of something to say besides, Let me have all your babies! My red-tipped toes sink into the plush black rug covering the dark wood floors of his apartment, and I look around his ultimate bachelor pad as his cute white cat trots behind me.

  “This is a beautiful place.” I stop in front of the enormous flat-screen TV hanging above a gas fireplace. Orange flames flicker, and it’s inviting and homey.

  “My mom hired the decorator.”

  “Your mom . . .” I nod, turning my back to the black television and narrowing my eyes in pretend annoyance. “You never said why you weren’t with your mom tonight.”

  He leans back, and that robe falls open a little more, revealing one side of the V of muscle disappearing into his boxer briefs. “You never said why you were with Phil.”

  A challenge. “I asked first,” I say.