Page 48 of Broken King

It’s worked for me. It’s worked for years.

But I’ve been busy, and that itch hasn’t been scratched since my night in Vegas. At least not by something that didn’t require batteries or recharging. That’s always how it goes surrounding the football draft each year.

There’s no time.

The team is my life.

The organization is my choice.

That must be why my brain is short-circuiting, reminding me the man standing in front of me was the best sex of my life and questioning whether it would be so bad to take a dip in that pool one more time. I mean, what’s the worst thing that could happen? It’s not like I can get pregnant again.

“So, I thought you were going to go home and rest after the appointment today.”

Okay, well him thinking he gets a say in how I live my life is definitely one of the worst things that could happen. “There was an emergency that needed to be handled, and it’s my job to handle it, thank you very much.” I take a step toward him, my hands on my hips, firing myself up further. “Then a few things popped up. I do help run a multi-billion-dollar organization, you know.”

He takes a step forward, ready to answer, when I cut him off. “Wait a second. How did you know I went back to work?” My blood starts pumping with the annoyance that’s begun to course through my veins.

“I texted Becket for your address.” Cade’s voice raises to meet mine. We were always good at arguing. Two strong-willed people. Neither ever willing to give an inch. “I wanted to stop by to talk, to see how you were feeling. Today was rough, and I thought maybe you’d want to talk about it since you shut me out on the ride back.”

“It’s my body, Cade. You don’t get a say.” I take a step closer to him as his hands reach for me.

Those same hands grip my hips as mine push against his muscled chest.

Not pushing him away but not pulling him close either.

A war between what my body wants to make it feel good and what my brain knows is a stupid fucking idea.

“It’s my baby in this body. I might not get much of a say, but you can’t shut me out either.” His hands move. Callused palms slide up my neck and under my hair. “Tell me to stop, duchess.”

“Don’t stop.” I don’t have the strength to fight it. Not now. Possibly not ever.

Strong hands lift me up, and spin me around, pinning me against the wall as his hungry lips crash down over mine. With one hand on my back, holding me to him, and the other on my face, angling me just the way he wants, I give in. I release all the fear, all the stress, all unknowns of the day and bask in this moment.

In the feel of his tongue sliding against mine.

Deepening the kiss.

I moan as my core tightens when those same lips trail along my jaw, then my throat. At the electricity pulsing between the two of us when he pushes my sweater and the strap of my nightgown off my shoulder and grinds his impressive erection against the silk covering my body.

Wanting more.

Needing this.

Until I feel a vibration against my thigh. I ignore it momentarily when those skilled lips make their way to my breast, pulling on my nipple with his teeth through the silk of my nightgown.

Pleasure and pain. God, I missed that.

Fuck. What is that vibration? I throw my head back against the wall, ignoring it. Until it dawns on me. Breathlessly, I pull Cade’s head away from my breast. “Saint.”

His lust-filled, green eyes meet mine.

“Your phone.” I gasp as the hand that had been wrapped around my waist slips under my panties and runs along my sex.

“What?” His brain isn’t catching up.

I wish I could shut mine off.

“Your phone is vibrating.”

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