Page 49 of Up in Flames

“Thenfuckingtell him to shut up. Don’t hit the guy, Cain!” I raise my voice at him, and he opens his eyes wide as if to tell me to shut up so Rodberg can’t hear me. I wonder briefly,Would he punch me?And before I know it, I’m blurting out my thoughts, “Would you punchmeto getmeto shut up?”

He jolts back. “Fuck… no. I’d never hit a woman, no matter what.”

“So why is a guy different?”

“Because they can handle themselves.”

I scoff and try to pull my wrists free, but he holds tighter and backs me up against the kitchen island, closing me in. My teeth grit in annoyance. “What? You think I can’t handle myself?”

“You’re not doing a very good job at the moment,” he teases as he grinds his hips into mine.

“Cain, this is a serious discussion. Don’t deflect it with your cock.”

He chuckles and takes a step back, pulling his hips away from mine, but his hands keep their tight grip around my wrists as his mouth moves in next to my ear, and his hot breath causes goose bumps to ripple over my skin. “Remember, Makaylie, I’ll never hurt you. That is unless you begged me for it,” he whispers in a deep, seductive voice that sends a shiver down my spine. It should be a shiver of terror, but for some fucked-up reason, it’s a shiver of damn desire. My body has abandoned me and is running toward him, even though my brain tells me to run from Cain.

So I do the only thing I think I can right now, to be safe to my brain and body.

Turning, I yank him with my arms, and he moves with me as I head for the front door. His hand finally moves from my wrist, sliding down to take my hand instead, and he leans into my side.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going out for dinner.”

He chuckles knowingly with a nod of his head. “I know just the place. Let’s go.” He takes my hand, leading me out of the apartment.

“Bye, Iron Rod,” I call out with a slight giggle.

Cain looks at me sternly. “Don’t encourage him,” he scolds in his more than a little bossy tone.

CHAPTER TWELVE

MAKAYLIE

Cain pulls into the parking lot of a French-creole building in the New Orleans Central Business District. The restaurant looks expensive. As a writer who has not yet published, money is kind of an issue for me, so going somewhere like this doesn’t happen atallin my life.

“Cain, I can’t afford a place like this. Can we go to a café or something?” I ask.

He smirks, obviously amused. “I want to spoil you, so let me. You agreed to be my partner, and this is part of it. Being spoiled is something you deserve. Plus, I can afford it, Makaylie. So, no arguments,” he states categorically.

Smiling, I take his hand as we walk into the flashy restaurant. I glance around at the astonishing interior with its rich, original architectural details, hardwood floors, soaring columns, mahogany paneling, and antique mirrors.

I love old-world New Orleans, and this place has it in abundance.

It’s romantic and intimate.

An elderly waiter walks past, and Cain nods to him. He returns the gesture and quickly scurries off.

“Do you know him?” I ask.

“We go way back. He will seat us at the best table in the restaurant,” Cain says as a waiter leads us through the crowded restaurant to the back of the room, where there’s a romantic table set for two. Glancing up at Cain, I smile as he leans down and kisses my head, then pulls out my chair for me.

Cain seems to have many differing sides—a gentleman one minute and a control freak the next.

“Good to see you again, Cain. You haven’t been in for a while,” the waiter states.

Cain smiles as he sits. “Haven’t had anyone worthy to bring here with me. Until now,” he says.

Biting my bottom lip, I smile.

---