Game Saver (19 page)

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Authors: BJ Harvey

BOOK: Game Saver
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He chuckles and gives my thigh a comforting squeeze. “Your sister and I have known each other for a while. I like her, respect her, and want to see where things go between us. Not that it’ll happen, but if I ever hurt her, I give you permission to kick my ass in any way you see fit.”

I sag back into him, loving the way he didn’t hesitate to lay it all out for my
very
protective younger brother. Cohen may be the baby of the family but he is also the über-staunch one.

To his credit, Cohen’s expression turns from scary to relaxed. “Good answer,” he says with a nod. Bryant and Jaxon grin at me, and that warm feeling cloaking me wraps me up tight.

“How’s work, Abs?” Jaxon asks.

“Good. I’ve applied to take a day-time position.”

Cade’s fingers flex, and I feel his eyes on me.

“You don’t want to work nights anymore?” Bryant says.

“I’ve worked nights for three years now. Since things in my life have changed, I want to have more time to enjoy them.”
In particular, the man I’m currently sitting on.

Cade leans over and puts his empty cup on the coffee table, wrapping his arms around me when he sits back. I don’t miss Mom’s eyes watching us or her quiet sigh at the sight.

“Your dad’s running for mayor. Is that going to have any effect on you two?” Jaxon asks, causing my mouth to drop open.
How on earth does he know that?

“Hasn’t so far. It’s actually what brought us together in a way,” I reply before Cade can say anything. Jaxon watches us, his gaze contemplative.

I love the fact that Cade isn’t shying away from touching me. He’s not being standoffish in the face of my family. He’s just being himself and in showing them that, hopefully they can see that we’re striving for something real.

“So,” I say, clapping my hands together, “now that we’ve got the awkward ‘hurt my sister and die’ talk out of the way. Why are you
really
here?” I know their motivations, and it’s either going to be a bloodbath—not sure who’ll win out of my brothers and Cade though—or a scene out of a comedy movie.

“That’s all we’ve got,” Bryant says with a laugh. “Mom told us you had a new man. We wanted to make sure he was legit and not a douche like the last one. “

“That was years ago.”

“It’s also the last time you dated someone seriously, Abs,” he retorts.

Well, shit.

“Really?” Cade asks him. Note: He didn’t ask
me.

Bryant, Jaxon, and Mom all laugh, but Cohen—still in defensive mode—doesn’t even crack a smile.
God, I love the little bastard.
“The last guy she introduced us to was the dickhead douche face who fucked her over,” he says.

“Did you fuck him over?” Cade asks.

“Too fucking right we did,” Jaxon replies.

“What?” I gasp, not knowing this little tidbit of information. “What did you do?” I ask my brothers.

Cohen finally cracks a grin. “Let’s just say he wasn’t doing anything comfortably for a while once we were finished with him.”

“Did you know about this?” I ask Mom.

She shrugs—
shrugs
—and downs the rest of her coffee, her non-answer saying it all.

“I . . . I can’t believe you guys did that. Jamie too?”

“Jamie was the ring leader.”

My mouth drops open and I just stare at three of the five—okay, now six—important men in my life, tears stinging my eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper, and all of their expressions go soft.

“Anything for you, Abs. Always and forever,” Cohen says gruffly.

“I know you’ll probably be spending Thanksgiving with your family, Cade, but you are most welcome to join us at our home,” my mother says after giving me a hug goodbye.

Jeez, no pressure, Mom.

I look up and meet his eyes, knowing that he’ll have to decline because somehow I don’t see Annabel and Cade Snr allowing their children
not
to attend a no doubt traditional Thanksgiving dinner at Castle de Carsen.

“Thanks. I’d love to come.”

Say what?

My surprise must be written all over my face, because Cade chuckles and pulls me into his side, kissing my temple. “If Abi would like me to, of course.”

“I . . . ah . . . sure, but won’t your parents be expecting you?”

His expression turns to one of amusement. “This year they can expect me
not
to be there. I can touch base with Callie and Jonathan in the morning, but I’ll be spending the rest of the day with my girlfriend and her family.”
Swoon alert.

Mom is positively giddy now. “Awesome. We’ll let you get back to your Sunday plans,” she says with a knowing wink and I groan.

“Mom . . .”

“Oh, precious. You need to relax a little. I’m sure
Cade
can help you with that,” she says with a giggle followed by a wave of groans and “Mom” from my brothers waiting in the corridor.

“Bye Mom,” I say with a laugh. Never let it be said that it’s not entertaining—and occasionally embarrassing—having a free spirit for a parent.

As soon as the door closes, Cade’s eyes change from free and easy to determined and heated. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“So are you.”

“I should do something about that.”

“You should.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Follow your gut,” I reply with a coy smile, slowly backing away from him.

“How about I follow my cock?” He stalks me, one step forward to every one of mine retreating back.

“That works too.”

Cade wastes no time in stripping me naked after that, taking me on the couch . . . and the floor . . . and the kitchen counter, too.

Three hours later, I’m dozing in bed when the sheet at my waist slowly slides down towards the end of the bed, Cade’s palm smoothing over my hip and around to the small of my back then over my ass.

“Mmmmm,” I moan, spreading my legs and hoping he gets the hint.

I should’ve known he wouldn’t need any encouragement.

His fingers delve down, his thumb easing inside me while his index finger initiates a swirl and press manoeuver that should be taught to every man for the future pleasure of all womankind.

“So wet . . .” he says, pressing his naked body—and the exquisite hard-on—into my side. “I can’t get enough of you.”

My stomach flutters, and I bury my face in the pillow to stifle my surprised gasp when he bites my shoulder.

“You’re testing my recovery time,” he murmurs

Turning my head to look at him, I run my arm between us and wrap my hand around his cock, giving a firm squeeze on my upward stroke.

“Feels like you’re holding up
just
fine,” I say with a wry smile.

“I’m always hard for you.”

Why does that make me feel so damn good?

“Too much talking,” I whimper as he adds a second finger. I stroke him again, down then up, swiping my thumb across the sensitive tip.
Two can play at this game.

“I like you vocal. I love to hear you moan . . .” His hands part my legs farther as he languidly pushes inside me. “Especially when I do that.”

Wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his hips, I let him take me as he powers into me with forceful thrusts that reverberate throughout my entire body. This is beyond sex—this is surreal fucking that should be documented for future generations. It would be a worldwide bestseller:
How To Rock Her World By Completely Shattering Her Vagina.

That’s the last coherent thought I have for a good long while. One thing I’m absolutely certain of is that Cade Carsen does
not
lack anything in any way, shape, or form, especially stamina.

I never thought I’d say this, but right now I’m glad Naked Sundays only happen once a week.

Hello, Penis, it’s me, Vagina

and I need a time out.

 

 

 

The Friday before Thanksgiving, I’m working a shift at the Pink Monkey when my friend—and manager—Brandi trots her way over to me.

“You always get the hot ones,” she says petulantly.

“What?” I reply with a laugh.

“In the red room, end of the hall, there is a sex-on-legs tall drink of water waiting for you. Paid over and above to have you—and only you—dance for him.”

“Really?” My eyes widen. Yes, it’s a high-end establishment, and I’ve never once complained about a customer’s tip, but a guy paying a whack just to have me dance for him in a private room is something that does. Not. Happen. The flat rate is already enough to hurt the pocket. I’m
really
hoping it’s Cade, but I’m not sure being seen in a strip club partaking in the services would be a good look for the son of the next mayor of Chicago.

“What does he look like?” I ask, deciding that it’s probably best to do some digging before accepting whatever fate lies behind the door. I have made it a point not to do any private lap dances since Cade and I made our deal.

Brandi shoots me a grin. “He said you’d ask that and made me promise not to say anything. But girl, there is no way even
you
will be disappointed at this one. He’ll rue the fact that there is a no touching policy in effect.” She rubs her chin. “Although, that policy was meant for guys touching the girls—didn’t say anything about you girls touching them.” She winks at me before waving me off. “Now get your fine ass down there and make him happy. Although not
that
happy . . .”

“Brandi!” I gasp. “I’m kind of with someone . . . well, I
am
with someone. And it’s monogamous.” It’s all in or not at all, pretty much my life mantra, which is hilarious since it took Cade and I so long to realize we weren’t fooling anyone except ourselves.

“Girl, you know I don’t know the meaning of the word. Just go show the dude a good time but not
too
good a time. You will
not
regret it, babe. Know what I mean?” she jokes, elbowing me.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” I eye her suspiciously. She’s got a wicked gleam in her eye, one that’s usually only reserved for her sugar daddy Roger—the owner of the club.

Me and my red patent leather heels make our way down the long black carpeted corridor towards the room right at the end, the illuminated light above the door the only indication that there’s someone waiting. My heart batters my chest like a jackhammer, my nerves through the roof as I turn the handle and step into the room, ninety-nine point nine percent sure that it will be Cade waiting me—at least I hope he is, otherwise things are about to get awkward. With a smile on my face I close the door, my throat tightening when I see a tall, very well-dressed man with beautiful clear eyes and a huge bright smile on his face.

But it’s not Cade waiting for me.

It’s my ex, Bryce.

Suddenly, I’m back to the uncertain girl I was eight years ago when I first met him. I’d been nursing a bruised heart and was ripe for the picking. I’d fallen hard and fast for him. His cocky swagger, honey-colored eyes, and adorable smile had won me over quicker than a slapper could jump on a hard dick. But deceit, distrust, and drugs ruined the memory of what we had before.

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