“You could be wearing rags and you’d still be utterly gorgeous to me,” he told her, and the sincerity on his face made her believe it. It was hard not to feel pretty when a man like Cade was gazing down at you as if you were a work of art.
But then she was naked, and he was mostly naked, and their clothes were flung somewhere on the shabby carpet in Star’s living room, and Cade’s glorious, naked chest was there for her to touch and lick and caress at her leisure. And she did, murmuring her pleasure at touching him, and moaning when he reciprocated. As always, he paid attention to her breastshe seemed to love them, despite the fact that they weren’t firm or perky; they were too big for that sort of thing. All of Kylie was. But he made her feel pretty nevertheless, and when he looked up at her with heated eyes and parted lips as he took her nipple in his mouth, she’d never felt sexier.
“Condom,” she told him breathlessly. “Now.”
He nodded and leaned over the side of the couch, searching through the discarded clothing. A moment later, he produced one packet and held it aloft.
“Can I?” she asked. Just the thought of rolling it down his length was making her ache between her legs.
The hot gleam in his eyes was answer enough. He gave her the package, and she opened it, carefully removing the condom. It was slick with lubricant, and her own fingers were shaking with need so much that she dropped it on the floor.
Right into one of the melting bowls of ice cream.
Kylie blinked at it, then giggled. “Houston, we have a problem.”
“Do we?” he asked, burying his face against her breasts again. “Or are you still on the pill?”
No condom? Her breath rushed out of her at the thought. Cade with a condom was good. Cade without a condom felt . . . intense. So intense. “I’m on the pill, yeah.”
“Then, can we . . .” He let his words trail off, his gaze asking the question even as he continued to kiss and nuzzle her breasts.
She nodded, her hands going back to him. She laid back down on the couch, ignoring the fact that the pillows were sliding around a bit with all the moving she and Cade were doing. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Cade over her, and his knees parting her own, his hips settling between hers, and then his cock pressing against her pussy and stroking through her folds, teasing her clit. She moaned.
“My sweet Kylie,” Cade told her. “So damn wet for me. God, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she told him in a shaky voice.
And then he pushed into her, and she gasped at how big he felt, and how tight she was. She spread her legs wider, and his hips fit between hers perfectly, and they began to move together. Kylie’s hips lifted with Cade’s thrusts, and before long, the friction was building between her legs, making her cling to him with breathless need, crying out his name as he hammered into her. She came with a wracking cry, and moments later, he came, too. He pushed into her a few times more, their joined bodies wet with mutual pleasure, and then he slid on top of her, all sweaty skin and muscle.
And perfection. Cade was pure, utter perfection. From the dark blond lashes framing his gorgeous eyes to the loose curls now sticking up from his head, to the way he kissed her neck, her arm, her skin, everywhere he could, even though they’d both come.
Perfection.
Her perfection.
“I love you,” she told him again. Just because she felt like it. And maybe because she could. Because they were together now, and he wasn’t going to hold anything over her, and she’d never be a burden. Unwanted, unneeded burden. Because she realized something as he moved onto his side and curled on the narrow couch with her. Burdens had nothing to do with love. As long as there was love, there would be no resentment, just a desire to help.
Maybe that was what had been missing all along.
Maybe that was why, in Cade’s arms, she was no longer afraid.
TWENTY-ONE
Two weeks later
Kylie’s hand was clammy in Cade’s as they headed into the nightclub. “Are you sure your friends are going to want to meet me?” She asked for what felt like the dozenth time that evening. She’d fussed and worried over dinner, fixing her makeup over and over again even though in his eyes, she was utter perfection. He knew his Kylie had confidence issues, and she was working on them.
He’d just have to keep loving her and making her feel as utterly beautiful as he knew she was. Not that it was a chore, he thought with a grin, giving her hand a squeeze. He’d gladly do so every day for the rest of his life.
Moving Kylie and her Nana Sloane to New York City with him had been one of the happiest weeks he’d ever had. While he wasn’t a big fan of Nana Sloanenot after some of the stories Kylie had told him about her childhoodhe couldn’t help but feel sorry for the frail lady with the confused mind. They’d moved her into one of the best nursing homes Cade could find, and he’d used his name to finagle a discount for Kylie, since she insisted on paying. That was fine with him. She could pay until she was used to him and his money. It was actually kind of refreshing being with someone who didn’t give him an expectant look every time the check arrived at a restaurant.