THERE’S a reason I haven’t been able to wipe the feeling of Cade’s kiss from my memories. A reason why nothing has ever felt even remotely comparable with anyone else like it does with him.
He kisses me like he owns me. I kiss him back in hopes that I own him.
Our lips are starved for one another, even though we just felt the press of them together last night.
This kiss feels heightened. It’s like we’re throwing our anger—our love—into it.
When Cade slides his hands underneath the sweatshirt I’d pulled on this morning, I let him. His fingertips brand my skin. He touches me like he’s trying to memorize every single inch of my skin all over again.
My fingers brush over the exposed buzzed sides of his head underneath his hat. It feels so much more different than it used to. Before, his hair was long enough for my fingers to grip on to. Now I just guide my palm along the sides of his head and get used to the new feeling of the scratch of cropped hair against my skin.
Cade pulls his lips from mine. Before I can protest, he grips my hair and pulls, bearing my throat to him.
His teeth rake against the tender skin of my neck. “There’s so many reasons I’m pissed at you.”
My hands move to his shirt, fisting the fabric to keep myself steady. “I could say the same thing to you.”
I’m so mad at him. There’s so much he didn’t tell me. I guess we’re angry with each other. We were so young back then that a lot of hurt probably could’ve been avoided if we both had been more honest with each other.
We can’t change it. All we can do is move on from it and try not to let the anger destroy any hope for a future between us.
Cade pulls away. The look in his eyes has me clenching my thighs together.
He grabs me by the chin, holding my head in place with the tight grip of his fingers. “Take that anger out on me, baby. Because I’m sure as hell about to take it out on you.”
He’s pissed, his fury only turns me on. I want him to take his anger out on me. I want to be punished, to feel everything I can from him. His hands aren’t gentle as he grabs the bottom of the sweatshirt and pulls it up, ripping the fabric off my body.
I hadn’t bothered with putting on anything underneath, giving him a full view of my breasts. They feel heavy, aching to feel his touch. Air hisses from between his teeth as he lets out a rush of air. “Goddamnit, Goldie,” he marvels, lifting me by the hips and setting me on top of a saddle stand. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he growls.
I moan when he reaches up to palm my breast. I’ve ached to feel his touch against me. I’ve touched myself so many nights with thoughts of him. I’d never forgotten the feel of his callouses against me. The rough skin of his fingertips glide across my nipple. My back arches as I grab the hem of his shirt. He backs away from me for a second, only long enough to let me pull it off him.
Cade Jennings was part of every single one of my fantasies at nineteen.
But now…I have no words to describe how immaculate his body has filled out. He was defined and sculpted the first time I got to touch him however I pleased. But now he’s so much more of a man. His muscles are bigger, the veins running down his arms are thick as his muscles strain.
Cade steps back between my legs, pulling me until we’re chest to chest.
“You don’t just have to look at me,” he says, his voice low. Even the huskiness in his voice somehow caresses the most intimate parts of me. This man has such a hold on me. Always has, always will. “Don’t just stare at me…if you like what you see, touch me.”
My fingers tentatively reach between us, feeling the hardness of his chest. His muscles tighten underneath my touch. I let my hand drift down, marveling at the hard, sculpted, ridges of his stomach. It seems that all the work on the ranch over the years has done him well.
When my fingers play with the waistband of his jeans, he sucks in a breath. “Oh no.” He clicks his tongue. “My turn first,” he demands.
Cade takes me by surprise by leaning forward and taking my hardened nipple in his mouth. My back arches as his hands steady my hips.
We shouldn’t be doing this where anybody could catch us. Hell, a customer could walk in—or worse, Pippa. It doesn’t stop either of us. If he’s aware of how risky it is for us to be in this position, he doesn’t seem to care. He spins his tongue around my nipple with expert precision, making my clit throb with desire.
His teeth graze my sensitive nipple. He smirks, his mouth still partially around my flesh when I let out a loud moan.
“I missed how reactive you are to every touch,” he mutters against my skin. He bites slightly harder, licking away the slight twinge of pain. “With every bite, suck, thrust…your body doesn’t hide how needy it is for me.”
This causes another moan from my lips. God. No one would know quiet, broody Cade would say such filthy things with so much confidence.
His hands grab the top of the tennis skirt I’d slipped on, pulling at the fabric. “It’s time I taste you—devour that pretty pussy of yours.”
I nod in encouragement, hot and needy for him. I know this is wrong. I’m all too aware of all the baggage he and I share. There’s so much we need to work out, but I can’t say no to him. I can’t say no to feeling him like this.
I’ve ached for his touch for years, touching myself so many lonely nights at the memory of him. Now I need to be reminded of how it really feels. I want to remember what it’s like to be owned by him.
I reach behind me, holding on to the edge of the saddle to keep myself steady as he yanks at the fabric at my waist. I lift my hips, allowing him to pull the fabric off.
He rips my panties at both sides, stripping me until I’m only wearing a pair of cowgirl boots.
Cade’s hands are warm as he pushes my thighs open. I rest my feet on the edges of other saddle stands, baring myself to him.
I could come at the sight of him licking his lips, his gaze is scorching as he watches me in anticipation.
“Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, Goldie,” he states casually, like his words are part of everyday conversation and not ones that have my thighs quivering. “It’s dripping, begging to be worshiped by me.”
I moan, my head falling backward with pleasure. “Oh, god.”
“Cade,” he corrects. “That’s what you’ll be screaming by the time I’m done with you.”
“Cade,” I repeat, my tone coming out as a beg. “Please,” I add. I need to feel him. I need him to touch me. My breasts feel so tight and heavy by the way he looks at me hungrily. My clit throbs so painfully I’m about to slide my fingers through my wetness just to give myself some release.
“Please what?”
“Please touch me.”
He runs his fingers over the sensitive skin between my thighs, just far enough from the spot I’m so desperate for him that I know he’s trying to tease me. “Do you want me to touch you or taste you?”
His palms press into my thighs as he makes sure I keep my legs spread wide for him. He kneels to one knee and then the other, lining his mouth with my center.
“You going to answer me, Goldie?”
“Taste. Or touch. I don’t really care. I just need you.”
“Taste it is. I told you I’m going to worship that cunt of yours. I think my tongue knows how to do that best.”
He brushes his finger over my clit, making my hips buck. His breath is hot against my skin as he teases me by nipping at the inside of my thigh. His tongue caresses the spot only inches away from where I really want him. At least his finger still slowly strokes me, giving me some sort of relief.
It isn’t enough.
I need more. A frustrated moan comes from me when he draws the moment out.
“Frustrated are we?” he mutters against my skin.
The asshole laughs at my frustrated mewls.
“It fucking sucks waiting for something you want, doesn’t it, Goldie?” His hot breath whispers against my clit as he pushes the tip of his finger inside me, but only going down to what I imagine is his knuckle.
“You said you were going to worship me.”
His finger pushes in a little deeper, slightly hooking to brush right up against the spot he knows drives me wild, even all these years later. ‘Oh baby, I plan to. I’m on my knees, ready to do anything to worship and show my dedication to you—to your pussy—but I need to have a little fun first.”
His voice is throaty, full of need as he continues to growl. “You’ve left me waiting here for so goddamn long. You didn’t think you’d get away with that, did you? I feel the need to punish you. Even just a little.”
I could combust when he pulls his finger from me, leaving me desperate to feel him again. The only thing I can feel is the tickle of his breath against the inside of my thighs.
It’s too much. I miss his touch. I need it. The desperation for him is so much that it has me speaking before thinking. “Punish me later,” I hurriedly get out. “Worship me now, punish me later. Please.”
Cade looks up at me from between my thighs. I don’t know what it is but seeing his predatory smile while he’s inches away from my clit, has me even more turned on.
He rakes his eyes over my face slowly. It feels like he’s trying to see into my soul. “I guess we could play by your rules…but just for a moment.”
Before I can say anything else, Cade runs his tongue down my slit and I’m so fucking gone.
I’ve spent all these years trying to forget Cade but feeling him claim me all over again only proves one thing. I can pretend all I want, but nothing has changed. He still owns me—every fucking part of me.
