He's the One Jane Beckenham (best book recommendations .txt) 📖

my guts out to you—more than to anyone—ever."

"Thank you."

A coarse shard of brittle laughter fell from his lips. “All this deep stuff, Taylor Sullivan, isn't me. I don't need it. Not from you. Or anyone."

"But..."

"No buts.” Cade slammed a hand against the wall, frustration etched into every corded muscle. “Just goes to prove, doesn't it—commitment doesn't work. It's not reliable, and I'm sure as hell not about to trust someone else to make me happy."

* * * *

Saturday. The day before the “official” day of rest. But she and Cade sure did rest, barely leaving the bedroom, unless, of course, it was to experiment somewhere else. And sex? Well, sex sure was something. Sex with Cade, according to Taylor's scale of experience of the power of one, was awesome. Every part of her ached in a tingly, lying on a downy cloud sort of ache.

Just delicious!

Lying on her back, the dewy sheen of perspiration cooling against her skin, Cade stared down at her, his fingers trailing a teasing path up and down her stomach.

She purred, squirming under his ministrations. “If you keep doing that, I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out."

"That's what I was counting on."

"Really?"

"Sure."

"But we've already...” She counted off on her fingers, eyes widening, and Cade burst into laughter, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him, so that she lay chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip down his length.

"Am I a notch on your bedpost, Ms. Sullivan?"

"Could be?” she answered trying for sophisticated composure and failing miserably as his big broad hands cupped her buttocks, kneading the flesh, pushing her hips down against his arousal.

"Can you still hold out?"

"Debatable.” Very debatable.

"Only debatable? I'll have to try harder.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose.

"It is the middle of the afternoon,” she admonished.

"And your point is?"

"Well,” Taylor prevaricated and wiped the tip of her tongue across her lips. Kiss-swollen lips. Very yummy.

"If you do that again, I'll have to see if your beautiful mouth still tastes as good."

"Oh, believe me it does. It tastes of you.” Taylor smiled and licked her lips with exaggerated abandon. She brushed the fall of her hair back from her face, knowing the sheet would fall from her breasts. It did, and inside, her tummy did a roll of anticipation.

"You could have been one of those artists models for Gauguin."

Taylor's eyes widened in mock-horror. “He paints nudes."

"Yeah.” And his gaze slid down her bare length. “On second thought, cut that idea. I don't fancy a bunch of pervs getting their rocks off looking at you."

"And why not? You going to spoil a girl's fun."

"So you want a bunch of horny old men staring at you?"

"Ew, maybe not. Anyway, back to us being ensconced in here for hours."

"Ensconced? Big word for this time of the day."

"Exactly. It's 3:30 in the afternoon. Shouldn't you be out mowing the lawn or something?"

"No lawn."

"What about fixing that heap of rust you call cars."

"Rust!” Cade's chest puffed out. “I'll have you know they're classics. Perfection in metal."

"That's as may be, but it seems to me you have forgotten something. You did promise to show me your etchings."

"Okay."

"Okay? You mean now?"

"Sure. No time like the present.” Cade lifted her from him and rolled off the bed. Standing in naked splendor, he simply took Taylor's breath away. He was Adonis. Tanned, muscled and sculpted to perfection.

"Had enough time to get a good look, missy?"

"Oh, God.” Taylor yanked the sheet up over her head, every inch of her turning scarlet, even blushing to the roots of her hair. She'd been ogling all right. How could she not? He was just so darn good to look at.

Cade tugged the sheet back a fraction. “It's okay. It's a compliment, really. I like you looking at me and what I see in your eyes. Come on.” And he threw her one of his shirts.

Taylor held it up. “I can't wear this, it's ... not decent. I don't have any clean underwear."

Cade winked at her and she began to blush all over again.

"Cade Harper, you're incorrigible."

"That's me,” he said proudly.

Taylor put one arm through the shirtsleeve. “See, it doesn't cover anything."

"Yeah, I know.” And he wiggled his brows provocatively.

However, Cade did up the buttons, using his closeness to brush his fingertips over her already extended nipples. Then, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he led her down the stairs from the apartment and through the bar. It was eerily quiet, the sort of unsettling silence that settles over a place which is normally so full of life and laughter. Thankfully, for decency's sake, the bar wasn't opened yet, and they were alone.

Out through a side exit, Cade walked in front of her and down a narrow path to an area at the back of the building. The air was late-afternoon cool and goosebumps dotted her legs and arms. “I'll freeze in just this shirt."

"Don't worry, I know a few ways to keep warm."

"I'm sure you do,” she said pettily, though her body heated with the vivid imagery his answer inspired.

Cade gave her a wicked grin. “Glad we're on the same wavelength."

The backyard was dwarfed by a large shed of sorts that spanned its width, with a row of three-garage roller doors over looking a cobbled yard. Taylor spied the few tufts of grass struggling to grow between the paving stones.

"And you said you didn't have any lawn,” she admonished.

Cade shrugged. “Well, I could always manicure it to perfection and get down on my hands and knees and use nail scissors."

"That I'd like to see."

"Anytime, sweetheart.” And he brushed her lips with a fleeting kiss.

"Not fair,” Taylor whispered.

"Why?"

"Because you only leave me wanting more."

"That's the idea. Tempt and retreat."

Cade drew a key from the pocket of his jeans and proceeded to roll up one of the shed doors to expose beauty in metal.

Taylor could see exactly what he meant. Four cars lined the length of the oversized garage. “Oh, Cade.” She stepped close to the Mustang and caressed its curves, but suddenly yanked her