Saving Axe (Motorcycle Club Romance, Cowboy, Military) (Inferno Motorcycle Club) (18 page)

BOOK: Saving Axe (Motorcycle Club Romance, Cowboy, Military) (Inferno Motorcycle Club)
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"No," I whispered.  "You don't know me anymore, Cade.  We grew up."

"I know that you don't belong with some small-town
sheriff, some straight-laced, follow-the-rules guy who's going to fuck you missionary style for the rest of your life."  He leaned in closer, his lips near mine.  "I know you don't want to talk to him about how his day was, about how many tickets he wrote and how many drunks he arrested on the weekend."

My face felt warm, and I couldn't tell if it was from anger or desire.

"You say you want quiet, but I don't believe it, not for a minute," Cade said.  "It's not who you are."

I turned, twisted my body away from him.  "Who do you think
I am, Cade?"

I felt his hands on my shoulders, sliding down my arms, and the thrill of arousal raced through me.

"You're the same girl you've always been, June," he said.  "You don't want straight-laced and quiet.  You want someone who's going to fuck you like you're meant to be fucked.  You want to want someone so bad that you're falling all over yourself, begging for it because you can't think about anything else except his hands between your legs....his cock inside you."

"That's what you think I want?" I whispered.  My voice faltered, giving me away.  Despite everything in my brain telling me otherwise, that I shouldn't be attracted to him, that he was not the same Cade, I could feel arousal coursing through me, all of my senses heightened.

"I know that's what you want," he said.

My lips parted, and I arched my back to meet his lips.

And that motherfucker pulled back.

A smirk crossed his face.  "Say it."

"Say what?" I asked.

"Say you want me," he said.  "Say you want me, more than anything.  Tell me that all you've been thinking about it how I would feel inside you."

I could have smacked him, right then and there.  Except that what he was saying was true.  The thought of his hands on my body was so all-consuming I couldn't think about anything else.  Except how crazy he made me.

"I -"
I started to say.  Then, I steeled myself.  "No."

I
started to step back, but Cade placed his hand on my arm, stopping me. I could hear the rain coming down around us, could feel the tiny droplets as they splashed up and bounced against the rocks.

He slid
his hands around my waist, his hand tight against the small of my back, holding me firmly in place. Then, his eyes still on mine, he pulled me against him, roughly, and I could feel his hardness pressed into me.

"Say it, June."
He moved his head millimeters away from my ear, his lips nearly touching my skin. Then I felt his lips brush against my skin, on the place, that sensitive place, the place just below my ear lobe. A trail of goose bumps ran up my arm, and I shuddered.

"Say what?"

"Tell me what you want," he said.  "Tell me who you want.  Beg me."

Cade dragged his finger down the side of my neck to my collarbone
, his touch lighter than a feather.  Then, his movements achingly slow, he traced his lips along the length where his finger had been.  As he moved his lips along my skin, I could feel his tongue just barely touch me, and heat radiated from my core.

I didn't want him, right?  This criminal, the new Cade, this wasn't what I wanted.  Somehow I couldn't
telegraph that message to my body.

"No," I said
.  But even as I said it, it rang hollow to my ears.

"No?"
He traced his finger over the curves of my breasts, then down the valley between them.  I felt the cool air between my teeth as I inhaled sharply at his touch.  My nipples hardened against the fabric of my bra.  His eyes still on mine, he cupped my breast, his palm over the fabric of my shirt, and I arched my back, pressing my breasts against his palm.  "Still no?"

I murmured someth
ing; I'm not sure what exactly.

But it sure as hell wasn't "no" this time.
 

It wasn't "fuck, yeah," either.
 I wouldn't give Cade the satisfaction of hearing me beg for him.

So I stood there, still
, my eyes trained on his.  He moved his hand lower, slid it down my side to my waist, looking at me.  Watching me for a reaction.  He raised an eyebrow, as if daring me, urging me to say something.

"You definitely don't want me, right?" he
asked, as he slipped his hand underneath my tee-shirt, sliding his palm under my bra and touching my breast.  The heat from his hand, rough and calloused against my skin, covered the surface of my skin and I nearly groaned out loud.  The only thing that kept me from moaning and begging him to fuck me right now was my pride.

"No," I gasped, biting my lower lip to keep from moaning as he swirled
his thumb around my nipple.

"Should I stop?" he
whispered, his lips near my ear again, the heat from his breath sending a tingle radiating through my body.

"No."
 I admitted it before I could stop myself.  I couldn't help myself, not where Cade was concerned.

With his other hand, he unbuttoned my jeans
, tugged my pants down around my thighs, and slid his hand down my pants, between my legs.

Then
there was no denying I wanted him now.

When he realized how
wet I was, he groaned.  Or growled, rather.  "June," he said, his finger making circles over my clit, sending rippling waves of pleasure over me that nearly brought me to my knees, “You’re going to have to say it.”

I ignored him, my mind too preoccupied with what his hand was doing, what his fingers were doing between my legs.
I just couldn't seem to think straight, not where Cade was concerned.  Cade had me seeing double. Hell, he had me seeing more than that. His touch was taking me back to being sixteen again, back when I was drunk on him.

Then he pushed apart
my legs with his hand, and slipped his finger inside me.

“Say what?”
 I practically panted it, an animal in heat.  My body burned for him.

“Say what you want,” Cade said.
 “Say what we both know you want.”

My lips parted, and his eyes focused on them, waiting.
 His hand was still and I felt myself tighten around him.

Move, damn it.

I willed him to move his hand, just a little bit.  I was already on the threshold.  “Fuck me.”

There.
 I said it.

He didn’t move
.  And then a little smile, just the beginning of one, formed on his lips.  “I didn’t hear you,” he said.

The asshole.

“Fuck. Me.”  I said it again.  I could feel my pussy throbbing around his fingers, waiting.  Why wasn’t he already inside me?  Why hadn’t he already ripped my jeans off me, thrust himself inside me?

“You didn’t say ‘please,’” he said, leaning close to me, his breath hot on my ear.
 He pushed his fingers deeper inside me, and I nearly cried from frustration.  “You didn’t beg.”

I opened my mouth, fully intending to say “fuck you.”
 But, to my horror, I heard myself say, “Please.”  

I heard this sound come from his throat, this deep growl, and he covered my mouth with his, an animal devouring his prey.
 I pressed my body against him, desperate, wanting to be rid of my clothes.  He yanked my shirt up over my head, threw it somewhere, and I fumbled, grasping at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up.

And saw the scars, the rippled flesh where he had been burned.  I paused, running my hands over his skin, my fingers registering the each little ridge and valley.

"Cade," I said, the realization of what must have happened to him washing over me.

He'd gotten a Silver Star after one of the deployments.

He covered my hand with his, drew it away from his chest, shook his head.  "Don't, June," he said.

"But, I -" He thought I was going to say something trite, something stupid.  He thought I would pity him.

Cade shook his head.  "Don't say a word."

I ached to explore his body, to remember
it with my fingers, but I wanted him hard, fast.  Immediately.

He pulled my jeans down farther, and I
tried to kick off my shoes, step out of the fabric, muttering an expletive under my breath as they caught on my legs.

“Let me,” Cade whispered, and he knelt to the ground, sliding the pants off with one hand as he leaned in and
put his mouth between my legs.

“Oh my G
od.”  I tilted my head against the rock wall behind me, luxuriating in the warmth of Cade’s mouth on me.  He brought me to the edge, and then, just as I was about to crash over it, stood up.

He reached into his back pocket, and I barely registered what he had in his hand until he slid his pants do
wn his thighs.  I watched his cock spring free and he began to roll a condom on his length.  I was delirious with lust, but the realization of what he had in his hand hit me.  “What the hell?” I asked.  “You brought a condom with you out here?"

So he planned for this to happen.

“Junebug, I’ve been carrying one with me every day since that first night I came to your house,” he said.  “I've been waiting for you to decide what you wanted.”  He paused, giving me that half-grin that had driven me crazy since we were kids, that cocky, shit-eating grin.

“Now,
" he asked.  "Is this what you want?”

Was it what I wanted?

My eyes drifted down his rippling torso to take in his nakedness, at his hardness begging for attention.  If any other man had talked to me the way Cade did, with his stupid arrogant attitude, or stood in front of me, pants around his knees, unashamed in his nakedness, expecting me to just open my legs for him, I’d have told him to go to hell.

But Cade?
 I hated myself for it, but I wanted him.

“Yes.”
 I croaked out the words.  “I want you.”

He
gripped my ass with both hands, pushed me hard against the rock wall, and entered me, in one swift motion, made easier by my slickness.  Wrapping my legs around his waist, I melted into him, against him, as he kissed me again.

His mouth on me, his cock inside me...it was at once familiar and new.
 I gripped his back, pulling him tighter against me as he moved inside me with short hard thrusts, bringing me higher and higher.

He kissed my neck,
then underneath my ear, this sensitive place that had never failed to turn me on when we were teenagers.  It worked just the same as it had back then.  
He
worked just the same as he had back then, the rhythm of his movements in sync with mine.

“You feel so good, Junebu
g,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Good.
 He didn’t just feel
good.
 He felt fucking amazing.

Like
holy shit, can’t remember why I wanted to have sex with anyone
else
good
.  Like, I didn’t want to ever stop having sex
good
.


Fuck, June,” he said.  “Come with me.”

I felt the wave of pleasure get bigger and bigger, until it overtook me, an orgasm so intense I swear
I could feel it all the way down to my toes.  I heard him cry out as he came inside me, but I was lost in my own pleasure, and it was only after I began to come down from my orgasm and peeled my face away from his shoulder that I realized how tightly I’d been clinging to him.

“Sorry,” I said, looking down at his shoulder where I’d bit him, my teeth marks still imprinted on his
skin like some kind of tattoo.

I’d left my mark on hi
m, that’s for sure,
I thought.  I can’t say it didn’t give me a smug kind of satisfaction, the idea of branding him like that.

“I think I probably scratched th
e shit out of your back, too.” I said. 
But I wasn't sorry.

Cade grinned, his face framed by chunks of hair falling forward.
 “Do you hear me complaining?  Because if you hear me complaining, then you can apologize.”

I smiled.
 “No, what I heard coming out of your mouth was definitely not complaining.  In fact, if I had to, I’d say the ‘Fuck, June’ sounded a lot like begging.”

“Me?
 Beg?”  He winked.  “Never.”  

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