Why?
Because when he’d been on his knees on the gravel road with a pistol pointed at his head, he was sure he was going to die. But instead of thinking back over his life, trying to relive thirty years in the space of a heartbeat, he’d thought about her: The softness of her skin. The warmth of her smile. The way the sunlight glinted on her hair, making it look like spun gold. He’d thought about running his hands over her beautiful body, in and out of her sweet curves, cupping her breasts in his palms and licking her dusky-rose nipples until she writhed on the bed. He remembered how easily she rode pillion on his bike, the feeling of her arms around his waist, the way men looked at her in the bar and how everyone wanted what he’d had for only two nights.
Cade had been with more women than he could count. But the only face he could remember was hers.
When Mad Dog had pressed the barrel of the pistol against his forehead, he thought about every detail of those two nights with her. And in that moment he decided two things. First, it wasn’t a good day to die. And second, if he did manage to escape, he would find a way to make those two nights into something more.
But Jesus fucking Christ if he didn’t get her away from him right now his more-than-two-nights dream would be over in two minutes. Already the throbbing in his cock far exceeded the pain in every other part of his body.
“Cade?” She looked up at him, big green eyes wide and glistening, her lips pink and plump, wet from the little flicks of her tongue.
Cade let out a tortured groan and tightened his hand in her hair. The urge to settle her back on her knees, shove down his boxer briefs, and slide his cock into that soft, sweet mouth was overwhelming. And from the way she was looking at him, he was damn sure she wouldn’t say no. He’d never met a woman whose needs so matched his own, who knew what he wanted before he did, and was totally and absolutely uninhibited in bed. There was nothing she wouldn’t try and in the two nights they’d spent together, they’d tried a lot.
“You got some whiskey?”
She turned away, breaking the spell. Cade sat heavily in the chair thanking God for the small mercy of whiskey and its miraculous powers of healing, numbing, and taking a man’s mind off soft plump lips and little pink tongues.
By the time she finished tending his wounds and settling him on the couch, he was rock-hard again, but fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to do much about it with his veins now running at least 75 percent alcohol.
“I think you’ll live.” Dawn handed him a blanket. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Where are you going?”
“Bed. I have a job waitressing at Table Tops and I have to be there at seven A.M.”
He stretched out his arm, motioning her back, and gritted his teeth against the pain. “You’re gonna leave an injured man alone all night? What if I lose consciousness?”
She lifted an admonishing eyebrow and Cade grinned. He liked that about her. She didn’t easily take offense, nor did she take any crap. And she totally got his sense of humor, although right now he wasn’t being funny.
“It’s called sleep, and you know what it’s like when we’re together. We can’t…”
“I’ll be good. You have my word.” Part of him couldn’t believe he’d been reduced to begging. He’d never begged to sleep with a woman. In fact, he’d never had to pursue a woman. Nor had he ever been rejected.
But then he’d never been interested in anything other than a casual hookup. Relationships required intimacy, and he had no template for a healthy, intimate relationship. He enjoyed the company of women, their gentle temperament, and the softness of their bodies. After he had what he wanted, whether it was to be teased, tempted, or sexually relieved, or to ease the ache in his soul, he was just as happy to walk away. But he was always up front. He was there for a good time, not a long time. And when he left, he did so with no regrets and no trail of broken hearts.
Her head fell back and she groaned. “You can sleep in my bed only because you’re badly injured, but if your hands or any other part of your body moves off your side, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Arianne gave me a gun and taught me how to use it.”
“You’d shoot me for a little cuddle? It’s a scientific fact that sex releases healing hormones. Don’t you want me to get better?” He couldn’t help but turn on the charm he used to lure women to his bed, and yet, for the first time, the teasing banter left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Her lips quivered with a repressed smile. “I highly doubt you’d be able to perform in your current condition.”