Page 23 of Reckless Single Daddy

We continue strolling, but he makes no move to speak, even though I see the wheels turning in his head.

“We’re here,” he announces after several minutes, dropping his hand and opening the door for me. I look up to see it’s an art museum.

I sigh, feeling defeated, but I walk inside and instantly marvel at all the art pieces surrounding me. Despite the sheer beauty ofthe place, I don’t want to lose sight of our conversation, but at the same time, I don’t want to force Cade to open up, either.

And I don’t want to ruin our night.

So I grin and bear it while walking through the exhibit. I take in the artwork, dissecting each piece to the root, hoping that something will stick out as inspiration for my own collection. We navigate to the next room, which features other pieces loaded with different colors, splattered on the canvases with apparently no forethought.

I walk to the card with the artist’s name. Under the name is a quote from the artist: “Art is a feeling, and every piece you see here is rooted in an emotion.”

I hum thoughtfully as I stand beside Cade, who has remained silent since we got here. I feel a stab of irritation. Why is he being so unreadable?

“Maybe it’s time we get back,” I say, not even waiting for him to follow. I just leave.

We ride to the airport in the cab. I feel Cade glance at me a few times, but the silence is so thick between us, you could cut it in half.

Once we reach the plane, I step inside and head straight for the sleeping quarters, just wanting to be away from him. As I start to shut the door, Cade nudges himself inside. I turn to face him with a scowl.

“I thought we were having a good night,” he says.

I laugh harshly at him. “Are you kidding me?” I yell as my feelings flood out of me like a tidal wave crashing into a shoreline. “You barely said anything to me unless it was about the date itself. To make matters worse, I tried to have a serious conversation with you, and you refused.” I close my eyes, trying to get my temper under control. “I get it, okay? We all have demons to face, but if you want this to work even a little bit, you may want to stop dicking me around!”

I take a deep breath, though my chest continues to heave. Cade’s eyes remain on me, filled with frustration and almost… hurt? He opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it, closing his eyes as if fighting against an unbidden memory.

He opens his eyes again, and I watch them darken with desire as his gaze flickers up and down my body. It’s an expression I haven’t seen since O’Malley’s.

I want to be angry with him. Ishouldbe angry with him.

But really, all I want is for him to take me. Right here, right now.

Before I’m aware of it, I stride toward him, and my lips find his. I pour every ounce of mingled frustration and all-consuming lust I have for this man into the kiss. He responds in kind, nipping my bottom lip and eliciting a groan from deep within me, so deep that I don’t even recognize myself. He grips my hips, tugging me closer to his body, pressing me firmly against him so I can feel his growing erection.

He spins me around and bend me over to caress the exposed skin of my back, kissing along my spine as he works me out of the dress. Unlike our first hook-up, he’s taking his sweet time, undressing me like I’m a much-awaited present waiting to be unwrapped. I moan as he moves on to my thong, sliding it down my legs. The whole time, I feel his eyes burn a hole into my newly exposed flesh.

Once I’m completely bare, he turns me back around and drinks in every inch of my naked skin. Part of me wants to shy away from his unrelenting gaze—part of my still registers that this is the Cade Hart, after all—but I feel my arousal build, and I know he can see it and probably even smell it. All it takes is one look at his eyes, glazed over with desire, to know I’m the only woman he desires.

I let out a little grunt of frustration when I realize he’s still fully dressed. I move toward him, peeling off his jacket and then his shirt, not being nearly as patient as he was when he undressing me. When I finally have him as naked as I am, I take the opportunity to properly admire him, an opportunity I was robbed of during our frantic hook-up in the bathroom. He’s as well-sculpted as I imagined, lean and muscled without beingtoo bulky. My eyes travel to his length, and I take a sharp intake in breath. He’s even more impressive as I can recall from the glimpse I got the first time.

Feeling a rush of boldness, I reach out to take him in my hand. He lets out a gasp, looking entranced as he watches me start stroking him. He shuts his eyes tight as I keep stroking him for several seconds, his breathing coming out shorter and raspier as I quicken my pace. I smile, absolutely loving this power I have over him.

He lets out another low groan and swats away my hand before he walks me to the bed. He gently lays me down on it and climbs over me until we’re pressed deliciously together, skin to skin. His lips dance along my throat, alternately nipping at it and pressing it with soothing kisses while the warm, throbbing sensation between my legs grows into an inferno. My legs wrap firmly around his waist, putting him right where I want him. Grinning, I slide myself up and down him, rubbing him against my wetness. He groans again, his eyes widening at me, and I think I might have actually surprised him. I’m so desperate for him at this point, I’m absolutely shameless.

He grabs my hips, holding me in place, and repositions himself so he’s poised once more at my slick entrance. Grunting into my neck, he slowly plunges into me until he’s buried to the hilt.

I let out a sharp cry at the more-than-welcome intrusion, my back arching, my nails burying themselves into his own back.He gazes down at me intently, and I return it, daring him to go further, my legs digging into his sides to get him moving.

He starts to move with shallow thrusts, keeping the pace gentle at first. I scowl at him, and he lets out a little laugh before rearing back and driving into me, giving me exactly what I want. I marvel at how at least physically, there’s no need for us to communicate with each other to make each other feel good.

My moans intensify when he switches to a new angle—an angle he seems to know will drive me insane. He flashes an arrogant smirk at me as he keeps hitting that spot inside me that makes me see stars. Not to be outdone, I bare my teeth at him in challenge, thrusting upward with my own hips and digging my nails into his back hard enough that I hope they’ll leave marks.

He hisses in surprise, his thrusts becoming more erratic. I’ve surprised him again. Between my incessant moans and gasps, I smile at him at triumph. Gradually, I edge closer and closer to the point of no return. I can tell he’s right there with me.

Cade gives one fierce, final thrust before he stills, groaning hard into my ear. I feel him twitch and pulse inside me. The sight of him unraveling and the new sensations he creates inside me are too much, and I follow him down. I let out a throaty cry as I tighten my legs around his waist, holding onto him for dear life.

We hold each other, continuing to spiral into a heavenly abyss. And all the while, I know we’re both realizing we’ve become prisoners of our desire for each other.

Chapter eleven

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