CRAVE - BAD BOY ROMANCE (6 page)

“This is stupid,” I whispered. Here I
was, basically breaking and entering the same guy's house twice within two
hours. The last time he'd caught me he'd grabbed me from behind and pulled a
gun on me. I could still feel his strong arms around me, holding me tight to
the heat of his powerful body. I'd been scared at the time, of course, but now
the only thing that memory did was awaken a spark in me that threatened to
become much, much more.

I heard the squeak of the faucet as
the shower got turned off, and almost whimpered from fear. There wasn't time to
flee, at least not quietly. All I'd do was succeed in banging the front door
shut behind me as I scampered off, and all
that
would result in was Cade grabbing a gun and sprinting off after me. He was
convinced, after all, that someone had murdered my Grandmother. How did I
expect him to react to an intruder, other than with violence?

The door to the bathroom opened and Cade
emerged, toweling off his hair. The rest of his tattooed, perfectly-muscled
body was exposed to my hungry eyes, and I felt my mouth drop open in surprise
as my gaze drank him in. He had way more scars than I’d seen before, and I knew
there was a story behind each of them, just like there was without a doubt a
tale to be told about the flames or coiled snake or tribal maze he had tattooed
on other parts of him.

And yes, I have to admit, my eyes
dropped past the chiseled muscles of his stomach, along his narrow hips to the
very impressive length of swinging manhood that made me blush furiously. I knew
I should look away, but all I could do was stand there and stare.

I wanted him. Even worse, I wanted
that
. I wanted to make him hard for me,
to press my mouth the swollen tip of his cock and run my tongue along his
shaft, getting him ready to fuck me hard, the way I needed to be fucked.

I may have
known
I shouldn’t be staring, but it took me a couple of seconds to
look away just the same. By then he’d noticed I was standing there with my
mouth open, clearly lusting over his body.

 
“Everything okay?” he asked, and somewhere in
me I noticed that his first instinct was to check on me, even though he was
taken completely off guard. He was smirking, and he didn’t bother to cover his
cock with the towel.

“Yeah,” I asked, trying to sound like
it was true, like I hadn't let myself into a strange man's house without asking
permission. Like I wasn't here to find out when my last blood relative's
funeral was.

Like I wasn't, I suddenly realized,
more by the way his shining eyes were staring at me, standing there in just my
bra and panties…

Shit! I’d been too worried about
finding out when the funeral was to realize I was practically naked. This never
would have happened in Detroit, where the mere thought of climbing out of bed
in just my underwear would have me shivering in frozen agony, wondering if I'd
lose a finger by morning due to frostbite.

“You want to borrow my towel?” Cade
said with a wicked smile as he held it out to me, and I had the feeling that if
I had the guts or the confidence to say yes that it wouldn't be long before he
and I were entwined, my body against his and the bed ready to rock beneath us.

“No thanks,” I said instead, looking
around hurriedly for something to drape over myself. I was here to have a
serious conversation damn it, and I'd already screwed that up by showing up
like this. I had every right to be taken seriously, but all I'd done since I
met this man was shoot myself in the foot.

“You sure?” At least he wrapped the
towel around his waist, at last. I could still see his length outlined by the
cotton, but I’d be okay if I kept my eyes on his face.

“I wanted to know if I'd missed her
funeral. I know I should have asked earlier, but...” I sighed, grabbing a
leather jacket from the back of the only chair at the kitchen table and
throwing it on over my shoulders. Cade was big and I was fairly short, and I
was relieved to discover that the heavy material covered most of what I wanted
to conceal.

It smelled like him, though. Rugged
and wild, a sexy mix of motor oil and sweat and the natural scent of the old leather
combining to embrace me in a sweet, spicy haze of his pheromones. I did my best
to push the thoughts of him out of my head and focus, going so far as biting my
lip hard enough to make me wince inwardly; anything to drag my attention back
to the importance of the matter at hand.

“You haven't missed it,” Cade said,
his voice going ever-so-slightly husky for me. I was used to his voice enough
by now to know that it was usually a deep, almost gravelly growl, but when he
spoke to me of my Grandmother he found a way to ease up. “I was going to tell
you in the morning, but now's even better. It'll give you time to get ready for
it, since it's set for the early afternoon.”

“But…” I frowned, trying to remember
what I’d packed. Did I have something appropriate to wear to a funeral? Not
really. Traveling light had been my goal, all the better to get here and get away.

Cade help up is hand, reading my
expression. “It’s fine. They don't stand on ceremony here, especially not for
your Grandmother. The whole neighborhood is invited, and nobody will say
anything if you just wear whatever you brought in your luggage. They won’t be
expecting to meet you at all, so as long as you're there you'll be welcome.”

“Tomorrow?”

He nodded. “They don't wait too long
for that sort of thing around here. The cops didn't agree with me when I tried
to convince them her death wasn't an accident. Truth be told, the moment it was
me
trying to tell them how to do
their job they were never going to listen. Most of her clients will be at the
funeral too, and there was no way that it would be seemly for a Voodoo Queen
like her to be laying cold in some morgue when she could be danced over and
sung around while we all get our chance to say goodbye.”

I nodded. I had so much to learn,
though I guess there wasn't much point. I'd be here for a couple more days
before I returned to Detroit. It might not be ideal, but it was the way it had
to be. Besides, this man, this place... It just wasn't for me. I didn't deserve
to live in the house of a woman I'd spent my entire adult life shunning.

I was beginning to feel more and more
guilty for the way I’d treated her, for the horrible things I’d thought in her
direction over the years. The least I could do to start to make it up to her was
send her off the way she wanted to be sent off.

“I'll be ready,” I said. “After the
lawyer, we'll give her a funeral this town will never forget.”

Cade nodded. “Sounds good. I think
she'd like that, especially coming from you.”

I turned on my heel and got out of
there before I could do or say something that would ruin it, and it was only
when I was back in my Grandmother's house that I realized I was still wearing
his jacket.

I slept in it, and the smell of him
combined with the leather to whisk me off to sleep, where my dreams were as
full of his magnificent cock as I wanted my body to be.

CHAPTER NINE

Eventually,
the dreams of Cade must have tired me out, because I felt them drift away. In
the early hours of the morning, I sensed the dawn on the way and my Grandmother
there, somewhere on the edge of the darkness I pushed through as I tried to
find a little more rest. Most of the time I was aware that I was tossing and
turning on the bed, the sheet tangled up around my limbs. I felt like I was
drowning, like the heat and the humidity were pulling me down, submerging me
beneath a substance from which I would never be able to free myself.

The early morning seemed to go on
forever. I lost count of how many times I woke up, and when the light grew in
the east it found me wide awake, lying in a bed damp with my own sweat. I got
up and showered, and it wasn't until I got out and grabbed the towel off the
rack that I let myself think about my late night visit with Cade. It was
embarrassing, yes, but it was something that I could put behind me if I was
determined enough. I resolved not to mention it, and crossed my fingers that Cade
felt the same way.

It seemed like that may be an option,
too. At least until I came out of the bathroom and saw his leather jacket
sitting where I'd neatly folded it on the foot of bed.

A spike of lust pounded through me at
something so simple as the sight of it. “Crap,” I sighed. “This is going to be
harder than I thought.”

I hadn't packed very many clothes,
certainly nothing that would pass as acceptable at a funeral. At least I could
muster an outfit worthy of a trip to a lawyer's office, and I was relieved to
find that, once I'd thrown the sundress on over my head, it was surprisingly
cooling. I guess long, flowing garments were going to be all the rage here,
unless I went in for the skimpy skirts and sleeveless shirts I'd seen all the
women wearing on my drive in from the airport.

It's funny how humans are creatures
of habit. Here I was, getting ready for a new day, on autopilot. It didn't
matter that I was in Louisiana instead of Michigan. It didn't matter that the
house wasn't the one I was used to, or that it didn't even have power. I still
went to the nightstand to get my phone off the charger.

Except, it wasn't there, of course.
It was still in my purse from yesterday, and when I fished it out I remembered
that I hadn't been able to charge it since the airport. The damn thing was down
to twelve percent, which meant it was basically worthless. I turned it off and
resolved to buy a charger I could use in the car.

I stepped into my shoes, picked up
his jacket and left the bedroom. Now that it was brighter outside, I could
appreciate just how cluttered my Grandmother's house was. Even the hallway was
lined with shelves, and those shelves overflowed with all manner of herb jars,
exotic potted plants, and a myriad of other living things. Spider lurked in
webs, happy with their share of the mosquitoes and houseflies that plagued
everything this close to the swampland.

A noise from the kitchen alerted me
that there was someone in the house other than me, and when I crept around the
corner I was relieved to see it was Cade. Again. He was leaning against the
counter, clearly waiting for me to come out of the bedroom.

“So, is this your thing?” I asked,
striding into the room and yanking open the fridge, feigning confidence and
scanning the interior. Of course, my act didn't work very well, since the damn
refrigerator was as empty as the rest of my life.

“Is
what
my thing?”

“Sitting in kitchens, waiting for
women.”

I heard the sharp exhale of breath
that was as close as a laugh from him as I was going to get. “Yeah, I suppose
it is. Same as staring into that fridge, looking for something that obviously
isn't there is going to quickly become your thing, unless you come away from
there and sit your ass down.”

“Shit,” I said with a grin, closing
the door and turning around before laying his leather jacket on the table in
front of him. I didn’t want to say anything about the garment, since that would
surely conjure up images of me in my underwear last night. “I was kind of
hoping you wouldn't notice,” I said instead.

He shrugged. “Unfortunately for you,
it was me that emptied it out the day before yesterday.”

Of course it was. He’d done so much,
and I’d been more of a bitch to him last night than I’d meant to or he
deserved. I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for him to come home and
find my Grandmother’s body like that, not to mention the fact that he felt
responsible for her passing.

An uncomfortable silence grew between
us, and I opened my mouth and blurted out, “Listen Cade, I want to say thank
you. For everything. I should have told you I was appreciative last night,
instead of storming out like a child, when things didn't go my way.”

“That's okay.”

“No, isn't. Maybe I should have been
here and maybe not, but it shouldn't have had to fall to you to take care of so
much of this.”

Cade didn't answer, but I could tell
that he wasn't about to accept thanks without putting up more of a fight than I
wanted to have to push through.

“Look,” I said, “I'm just trying to
say thanks, okay?”

“Don't mention it.” And he meant it,
too. The topic was closed, the conversation was over.

“Come on,” I said. “Let's get to this
lawyer. I'll buy breakfast, and you can sit across from me and watch me eat.
It'll be just like all the other fun times we've had in this kitchen, only
it'll have the fresh scenery of an IHOP or a Denny's or whatever.”

And off we went.

CHAPTER TEN

After breakfast, Cade
took me to the lawyer. He was everything I expected him to be, except for the
fact that he was pushing seventy and turned out to be dressed a lot more like
Colonel Sanders than I was used to. He insisted on calling my Grandmother 'Ms. Abrams’,
and when I asked about the circumstances surrounding her death he made it clear
that he wasn't qualified to second guess the police's decision.

And then he laid out the will for me.
When he was finished, he made sure I understood, had me sign some documents
that he assured me he'd have notarized beforehand delivering my copies to me at
'my new home', and led me gently to the door, citing the fact that he had
another set of clients on the way.

I staggered out into the heat and the
sunshine feeling like an explosion that had gone off close enough to rattle my
brains. He'd said so much, and yet the terms of the will were fairly simple.
Even so, I needed some time to let it sink in, and the rental car was parked
too close to give me the opportunity to sort out my thoughts.

At least, it should have been. Though
when I got back to where I'd parked it, instead of seeing Cade sitting in the
passenger seat of the car I’d driven here in, I saw him leaning against the
wall beside a black, gleaming Harley.

“How'd it go?” he asked, ignoring the
look on my face that surely spoke volumes, if he'd just shut his mouth and pay
attention.

“Where's the car?” I mumbled, still
in a state of shock.

“Huh?”

“Where's the damn car?” I asked
again, this time with a bit more venom.

Cade shrugged. “Drove it back to your
place and swapped it out for the bike.
 
I
didn't say anything this morning, since I was trying to be nice and all, but
all that steel around me makes me nervous. I can't stand driving around in a
cage. Besides, if you're still planning on going to Marie's funeral, I want you
showing up on the back of my bike. It'll make the town see that I'm looking
after you for a while. Might keep you safer than you’d be otherwise.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him and shot
him a look that said it hadn't done a whole hell of a lot for my Grandmother,
in the end.

“Might not,” he responded. “But it
can't hurt.”

I gave the same withering look to the
motorcycle. “I gave you the keys to my car so that you could keep the air
conditioning on, not so that you could drive it around town and come back on this
deathtrap instead.”

Cade nodded. “I know.”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“I know that too. But you can't run
the show every day of your life. I did what I thought was best for you, and
maybe you just have to learn to shut the fuck up now and then and let it happen.
You know?”

I opened my mouth to tell him to go
back and get my car, but nothing came out.

“There you go,” he said with an
apologetic smile. “You just need to be told what to do every now and then. Now
climb on and let's see about getting you something to wear for this afternoon.”