I couldn't say it.
I don't want to fall for you again.
Cade's eyes narrowed, and even though he spoke softly I could feel the intensity in his words. "What don't you want, June? The biker thing isn't good enough for you? Cops are more your speed?"
I felt a flash of anger. "I saw you outside when Jed brought me back, Cade. If you have something you want to say about Jed and me, go right ahead and say it."
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
"Do you somehow think I owe you something, some kind of explanation?" I asked. "I'm not yours anymore, Cade Austin."
"You don't owe me anything," he said. "But you don't belong with him."
"Oh yeah? I asked, tilting my head up toward him. "How do you know who I belong with? What exactly do you know about me anymore, Cade?"
"I know you, June," he said, stepping forward, close to me. Any closer and his body would be pressed up against mine, pushing me into the rock behind me.
Any closer and I would be done for. I wouldn't be able to step away from him. And I didn't know if I could handle that. So I just stood there, paralyzed by fear. But I wanted him. I wanted him so badly I could almost taste him, taste his lips against mine, taste the sweetness of his skin as I ran my tongue across it, taste the sweetness of his cock as I wrapped my lips around him. These were the things I remembered about him, the things I couldn't forget.
"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.