The Last Guy Page 33

“Fuck, Stone.” The way he growls my name when we fall back onto his enormous bed nearly gives me an orgasm right then and there.

I’m on my back in the gray, soft-as-silk sheets, and I watch with heavy eyes as he quickly discards those boxer briefs, freeing that huge muscle with which I’m obsessed. Condom quickly on, he grips the bottom of his dress shirt I’m wearing and rips it open, causing my breasts to bounce out.

“Oh!” I sigh at the sensation.

Cade’s eyes are navy with hunger, and he’s on me in a lunge, sliding inside so fast, I let out another loud moan of pleasure. God, this never gets old. Large hands are on the sides of my breasts, pushing them together as he devours me, pulling my nipples between his lips and teasing them with his teeth. I’m squirming and flying when he grips my ass again and flips us, positioning me on top.

“Do that thing with your hips.” His voice is thick. “That hula thing.”

Warm satisfaction floods my lower pelvis. The only thing hotter than looking at this amazing man is hearing that tone in his voice, knowing I’m driving him wild. I sit back and for the first time in a long time, I feel sexy. It’s the most amazing feeling. The raw need in his eyes sends currents of pleasure rushing up my thighs straight to my core, and I rotate my hips in a circular motion.

“Yes,” he groans, thrusting up with his hips.

“That feels so good,” I gasp, throwing my hair back. I am a wild sex goddess.

He grips my ass, his hips still thrusting, and I only get in two more twists before I’m breaking apart, crying out loud, and riding his rigid cock like there’s no tomorrow. Another loud groan from him, and I feel Cade break apart, holding me steady as he pulses deep inside, filling that condom.

I collapse forward onto his chest, and our lips meet in a sensual, after-glowey kiss. I hold his face as my hair falls around us, and our lips touch again and again. His hands are on my waist, and I’m so deeply contented. We come down together, kissing, bonding, meshing in every way. Sliding a hand between us to hold the condom, he pulls out. It’s quickly disposed of, and we’re together again. He puts my back to his chest and holds me firmly around the waist. It’s the most amazing spooning position I’ve been in since . . . well, since he spent the night in my apartment.

“Sleep now,” he says, kissing the top of my shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

A smile curls my lips as I close my eyes, drifting away in a fizzy haze of bliss, two strong arms my only anchor to this world.

The low drone of voices pulls me from my pink cloud of happiness. I blink several times, trying to place the sound. It’s so familiar . . .

“Another Houstonian was attacked last night by what police are now calling the GreenStreet Grabber . . . or Grabbers.” I sit up in bed, holding the sheet under my arms. It’s Matt on the enormous TV hanging on the opposite wall, and he’s reading KHOT’s Sunday recap of the news. “It’s as yet unclear if the muggings are the work of one person or a gang of thieves.”

Cade enters the room carrying a dark wooden tray. “I brought you coffee. How do you take it?”

“One sugar, two creams,” I say, melting back against the smoky suede headboard as I watch him. The black robe is draped over his shoulders again, a newspaper is tucked under his arm, and he is so damn yummy.

“Matt is working seven days a week . . .” He passes me a steaming mug. “They’ve got to fill that weekend anchor position soon.”

My chest rises at the thought. “It’s what I’ve been working toward.”

“I know.”

Matt is still talking, and Cade scoots into the bed beside me. I barely feel the movement, and I realize he must have one of those memory foam mattresses. With that and his strong arms around me most of the time, it’s no wonder I slept so well.

“Another mugging.” He drops the paper between us, and I glance up to see the muscle in his jaw tighten. “An elderly woman this time. They sneaked up behind her and pushed her down. Sprained her ankle and stole her purse. Assholes.”

“Oh my God!” I set my coffee aside and pick up the paper, looking from the front page up to the footage of the gray-haired granny with bloody scuffmarks on her knees and palms. “Do they have any leads on who’s doing it?”

“None.” Cade is clearly pissed. “No fingerprints. No evidence. These guys move fast, and they hit when nobody’s around.”

My eyes scan the story. “Parking garage, early evening, after rush hour. It’s like something out of a movie. Classic mugger behavior.”

I can’t help feeling a little sick reading the story. The GreenStreet shopping area is one of Houston’s newer developments and not too far from my apartment.

“You need to be sure you’re with Kevin or Chas . . . or me . . . if you’re going out anywhere after dark.”

His protectiveness is adorable, and I lean my head against my hand. “I’ll be careful.” While this rash of robberies is troubling, I don’t want to focus on that right now. “Should we go out for brunch or something?”

He turns to face me as well. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

That answer is completely unexpected. “I thought that was my line.”

“Well, you’re the famous Rebecca Fieldstone.” He reaches out and wraps the end of my hair around his finger. “We’re bound to draw attention.”

“Don’t remind me!”

“Only one thing is as hot as your right breast . . .” I groan, covering my face with my hand, but he continues, “your left breast.”

I start to laugh, playfully shoving his shoulder. “Stupid wardrobe malfunction.”

“I wanted to punch every person who saw you in the face. I guess I’m selfish. I want to be the only one seeing your body.” He smiles, and those irresistible dimples appear.

A flush creeps up my neck. “Are you saying you’re holding me hostage?”

“I wish.” It makes me laugh more, but his smile dims. “I was just thinking about how much you want that anchor spot . . . and how much of a dick Marv can be. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get everything you want.”

The meeting in Marv’s office after the Planetary Princess story fills my mind. I remember Cade being there while Marv said those things about my appearance, and all my feelings from last night of being a sex goddess disappear.

My chin drops. “I’m not sure how I got on his bad side. Marv used to be very supportive and encouraging . . .” Until Savannah showed up.

“Hey,” Cade’s voice is soft, and he lifts my chin. “I’m happy to say fuck him. I want everybody to see you on my arm.” I confess, hearing Cade Hill say these words makes it a little better. “I just don’t want to put you in an awkward situation.”

“You want to order in again?”

“Nope.” He hops out of bed. “We can walk down to the park. It’s a pretty day, and they have a little farmer’s market there. I’ll buy you breakfast, and if anyone sees us, we can say we’re working on our story.”

I smile, but I feel squirmy inside. “I guess that’s how it has to be for now, sneaking around and lying.”

“We’re not sneaking, and we’re definitely not lying.” I watch as he steps into a pair of faded jeans that hug his ass absolutely perfectly. “We are working on our story.”

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