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“Belle?” Cade demands, bursting into my room carrying two coffees on a carton tray and a bag of something. His blue eyes are fierce as they scan the room and shift to me.
“You were right,” I whisper, eyes burning as I try to stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks.
But a strange relief pounds its way through me in time to the beating of my heart—he didn’t leave me; he went to get coffee.
“What happened?” he asks, his tone calmer now that he sees I’m okay.
And I am, kinda.
He has this weird aura—it’s soothing. It suffuses the room with his presence, and, suddenly, my hopelessness begins to fade.
It’s like he can fix everything, and that issohot in the wake of all this chaos in my life.
Setting down the coffees and the bag on my dresser, he moves toward me, robbing me of my breath with every step.
“C-Charlie, she f-fired m-me... kind of. After everything we’ve been through, it’s u-unbelievable. I have to get out of here. O-Out of L.A.,” I stutter. “I’m leaving.”
Those strong, capable hands of his reach out to me. His fingers trail over my cheeks, cupping my face as he stares deeply into my eyes, murmuring, “Hey, just breathe. You can get through anything, can do anything.”
Clinging to the dress in my hand, I swallow. “You don’t know me.”
He graces me with a charming grin. It’s one heknowsis charming, which should annoy me, but I don’t let it. Even if I know he’s trying to disarm me.
At this moment, I’ll take being disarmed.
“Fuck, even when you’re crying you’re so beautiful, Isabelle,” he murmurs, gaze drifting over my features. “And yesterday, watching you stand up for yourself was something glorious to behold. You’re stronger than you realize, baby.”
Rubbing away my tears with his thumb, he lowers his head to destroy me with a kiss that, until this very second, I didn’t know was possible—pure feeling.
Adrenaline spikes through me as he robs me of my breath, my very soul, and I cling to him. My hands entwine in his hair and I groan, our tongues tangling as everything around us vanishes. All I feel is him and the way his mouth moves over mine in a dominant demand I can’t help but submit to.
That’s when he raises his head.
Jesus, he looks as if he wants to devour me, swallow me whole.
My nipples harden painfully in response when he jerks the dress from my hand and mutters, “I wanna take this off.” He plucks at the tee he’d dressed me in last night.
It’s crazy fast but I don’t care—I nod.
He groans as he hauls it overhead, baring me to his greedy gaze. “I want your eyes on me when I fuck you, Belle,” he rasps, the words sending liquid heat along my nerve endings.
His nostrils flare at my moan as he dips his head to my neck. His nose nuzzles the tender area as if he likes my scent, then his hand cups my breast, his thumb rubbing my nipple back and forth before he pinches it, causing my pussy to throb.
God, I feel so empty.
“These tits aremine,” he growls.
“Yes,” I chant, eager desire whipping through me, taking the fear and the panic and the distress with it.
He lifts me and I wrap my legs around his waist, my hands trying to frantically unbutton his dress shirt as we both fall onto the bed. My clothes spill around us as he claims my mouth again. I don’t know if it’s me or him, but somehow his shirt is gone, allowing my hands access to his muscled shoulders.
God, those muscles.
When he lifts his head, I arch my back and rub my breasts against his bare chest.
“Yeah, that’s it, Belle. Christ, your tits are going to fucking kill me.” He grunts and I watch his biceps move while he stands to unbuckle his belt. “Open your legs,” he orders.
I immediately obey, licking my lips and pushing my clothes out of the way so he can seeallof me. His eyes stay fixated on my face, though, and with a smirk, he unzips his slacks and I snatch at the chance to see his giant cock.
