Page 41 of Confusing Cade
But maybe that was part of her allure.
“Thank you for everything,” she said when she reached the door. “I know I say that a lot, but I mean it. You’ve done so much for me, and you certainly didn’t have to.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with a mix of gratitude and something more. “Actually, Cade, I think I owe you everything.”
Before I could utter a word, she stepped forward, erasing the last whisper of space between us. Her lips pressed against the tender junction between my lips and my cheek, a kiss that felt like a promise of more to come.
It was all I needed.
In the next breath, my lips found hers with a hunger I hadn't known I possessed. The kiss deepened almost instantly, escalating from a gentle brush to a full-blown exploration. Her taste was intoxicating, a sugary mint, sweet and sharp, and I drank it in like a man parched for affection. My hands naturally found the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair as I cradled the back of her head, guiding her closer.
The world around us seemed to slow. Our movements synchronized in a dance of desire and discovery. There was nothing else at that moment—just the sensation of her the taste, the touch, and the shared breath.
It was glorious.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BELLA
The kiss was fantastic. And the make-out session? Even better.
Not that I expected to find myself in Cade’s strong arms at the start of the meeting. No, I was flustered when I arrived at his office and cursed myself for being late. I held myself to better standards than that, and Dad had been nothing but a stickler for things like being on time. Being on time showed respect for yourself and for the people expecting to meet with you. And I had full intention of arriving early at the meeting.
But then I got that blasted phone call from Lilly’s school.
It was also the first time I had no idea what the call could be about. Her tuition was paid, her meal plan was up-to-date, and her grades were all As, and they didn’t mention FanZone.
I hadn’t expected bullying. It threw me off—made me question a lot of things. If this had been going on for a few months, then why hadn’t Lilly mentioned it during any of our conversations? And if it had made her so embarrassed, why hadn’t she at least texted me about it? I was her sister. Hadn’t we made a promise to each other to always talk about important things and to never keep things from each other?
One I had recently broken.
All those thoughts pushed their way to the back of my mind when Cade started kissing me. Our lips touched softly at first, atentative brush that sent a shiver racing down my spine, like the first drop of rain after a long drought. But then he deepened the kiss. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us, his body warm and solid against mine.
And there was no way I’d ask him to stop. Kissing him felt so natural, so unifying, and so strangely fulfilling in a way that kissing other people had never been. It was as if every press of his lips unlocked something deep inside me, a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into place. His tongue teased mine, slow and deliberate, tasting of mint and that faint, intoxicating hint of his cologne that always lingered on his skin. I melted into him, my fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently as the kiss grew more urgent. He responded with a low groan that vibrated against my mouth, his hands sliding up my back, pressing me harder against him, our breaths mingling in ragged bursts.
Time blurred as the minutes stretched, the world narrowing to the heat of his touch, the way his lips moved with mine in a rhythm that felt both familiar and electric. He guided me backward without breaking contact, my shoulders hitting the cool wood of the office door with a soft thud. Pinned there, I arched into him, breathless, my pulse thundering like a storm in my veins. His kisses trailed to the corner of my mouth, then down my jaw, nipping lightly at my neck before returning to claim my lips again, each one more insistent, more consuming, as if he were trying to erase every doubt, every hurt, with the fire between us.
But about ten minutes after we started, he lifted his head, breaking his connection with my lips. I was shoved against the back of the office door by then, breathless, my heart beating fast in my chest and throbbing in my ears.
“Dinner,” he said against my forehead, his voice deep and husky. “Have dinner with me.”
“Tonight?”
