CRAVE - BAD BOY ROMANCE (17 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Even
though I knew in my heart we were going to, when Cade pulled the Harley away
from the curb and swung back around toward the swamp I felt a hitch in my throat.
No longer worried about keeping a low profile, he gunned the engine and we took
off down the street.

With every rotation of the wheels I
felt the air get heavier. After a couple of minutes it was like driving through
soup, the wind so wet with the oncoming moisture that once or twice it fooled
me into thinking the rain had already arrived.

Pavement became gravel again and then
gravel became narrow, muddy paths that made me pull my legs up higher around Cade
to avoid the mess kicked up by the wheels.

The wetlands closed in around us from
every direction. The tall grass that covered the ground between the twisted
trees was soon growing on the only solid ground insight was the path we were
on. Everything else shown with moisture in the late afternoon sun.

When lightning flashed in the
distance, it was reflected in a thousand pools and puddles of still water, and
when the thunder rolled over us I saw those same sources of water tremble.

I was so taken with the landscape
that I didn't realize there was a cabin ahead of us until Cade pulled up in
front of.

“My brother's place,” he said by way
of explanation as he cut the engine.

“You've got a brother?”

“Yeah. He's not around much though.
He'd help us if I could get word to him, but I haven't seen him in years. One
day he'll show up and it will be as if he never left, but until then this place
is all I got left of him.”

It was a strange building. For
instance, I couldn't tell how old it was. The wood it was made of looked
ancient, the logs themselves that comprised the walls were absolutely huge. But
even I, with next to no architectural knowledge, could tell that the way the
building had been put together was as modern as it got. There were no windows
that I could see, and the door looked to be made of a single piece of timber.

“It's absolutely gorgeous,” I told
him, meaning it.

“Thanks,” he said. “It's been in the
family for as long as anyone can remember, though it's gone through a few
changes over the years.”

He led me up the path to the door and
pushed it open. It was dark and cool inside, and I felt like I was used to an
environment like this after living for so many days at Grandma's house with no
electricity.

I frowned, stopping in my tracks in
the doorway. We'd only driven twenty minutes or so. This place wasn't that far
out of town, not in the big scheme of things. I found Louisiana to be a wide,
sprawling state so far. It wasn't as if everyone insisted on living close to
the middle of the city, so why didn't he…

Cade bumped me out of the doorway and
walked past me. “I know what you're thinking,” he said. “So you might as well just
come right out and ask me.”

Okay then, I would. “Why don't you
just live here instead of in my Grandmother’s backyard?”

I thought it was a reasonable
question. With a place like this to reside in, why did he put up with the
meagerness that made up the shed he called home in my grandmother's backyard?

“Because there's nobody here that
needs me,” he said.

I bit my lip, feeling for him. There
was a hollow tone to his words that reminded me once again that for all his
bluff and swagger, Cade and I were two of a kind. Each of us had built their
life around a void, and neither one of us had found a way to fill it.

At least not yet.

Cade closed the door and motioned me
toward a big, comfortable looking overstuffed couch and what I took to be the
living room.

There was no TV. I guess that
shouldn't have surprised me. Instead, over in the corner, looking like a
refugee from the 1930s was a huge antique radio. I could imagine generations of
Cade's family gathering around it to listen to reports of the war or radio
shows or presidential addresses.

“Have a seat,” he said.

I did. The storm outside had brought
the clouds so low that even through the cabin I could feel the rain about to
hit. There was a weight above me, as if the burden of the water about to fall
was pressing me into the ground.

“I assume you're going to want to go
to the warehouse,” he said. “It is where Thrace will be, after all.”

I nodded, even though he was over in
what looked to be the kitchen with his back to me. “I can't think of anywhere
else to have it out with him,” I said. “He admitted to killing Jessica. If we
don’t put an end to this, they’ll be no telling who he hurts next.”

“I figured he’d be involved in that,”
Cade said. “Poor woman. At least out at the warehouse the cops won't get in the
way. They wouldn't come within ten miles of the place without riot gear. Too
dangerous. Just the way we always liked it too, or so we used to say when I ran
the Union.”

“You seem proud of that,” I said.

“Yeah, well… Things were different
than, you know? When everyone is doing the wrong thing, the right thing’s not
always in reach.”

I thought about that for a second. “But
you got out, at least that's what you said.”

“I did. But that doesn't mean I don't
feel responsible for all the shit they've done in the past couple of years.
They'd have been nothing without me, and they took the thing I built and
twisted into something else.”

“Then why keep the jacket? Why wear
it, if people are going to associate you with them because of it?”

Cade brought over two mugs of coffee
and set one down on the table in front of us for me and kept the other for
himself. “Because that's not what people do.” He took a long sip and set the
mug aside. “I’ve hardly been quiet about condemning Thrace and his leadership.
Nobody in town sees me in the jacket and thinks of them. If anything, maybe
they remember how it used to be. Maybe they even miss it, a little. After all, nobody
was calling the dirty cops to come and settle their domestic disputes or random
robberies. They'd call the Diggers, and me and my boys would come and sort out
what needed sorting.”

“Street justice,” I said with more
than a hint of disdain.

He shrugged. “Maybe, but it was still
justice, Rachel. And for a long time it was all we had. Now they’ve got nothing.
Nothing but drug runners and gun smugglers and God knows what else they've been
into that I don't even know about.”

I swallowed hard, giving that last
bit some thought. It clearly wasn't fair of me to judge, having not lived in
town for more than a week. Everyone I've met except for Thrace and his goons
had certainly seemed to hold Cade in high esteem. I know he said he was a thug,
but he was clearly much more than that. Maybe he was right.

If you couldn't trust law
enforcement, who could you trust when it came time to enforce the laws?

“So tell me about this headquarters,”
I said, to change the subject.

“Clubhouse,” he said. “They’re not
some terrorist organization. It's not the lair of some evil genius. They're
criminals, plain and simple.”

“Fine. Clubhouse. Whatever, just tell
me about it.”

“It's special. If it weren't, you
wouldn't be in this mess. They wouldn't give a damn if you held the lease to
just about anywhere else. They've got enough money to buy another building ten
times over if they had to, but they're not going to find the same sort of
advantages somewhere else.”

“Then what's so special about it?”

“It's built on the ruins of a former
Spanish Fort,” he said. “Way back when, a couple of hundred years ago, the
smugglers that filled this area with black-market goods would use it as a place
to land their ships. The big boats would anchor out in the Gulf of Mexico, and
they’d bring the little ones into the swamp and offload. They built a series of
brick-lined tunnels to get them in and out without being seen, not to mention a
vast network of holding areas to warehouse their goods.”

It sounded perfect for what Thrace
wanted for, I admitted. “They must really hate you for giving the property to
my Grandmother.”

He shrugged. “I'm used to being
hated. Besides, I knew that if I gave it to her that there wasn't much they
could do to get it back. Marie was a tough old bird, and she wouldn't have
broken no matter what they did to her. Of course,” he said with a sigh, “that was
way before I found out about you. Before I saw you in that dream. Before she
decided to call you out here, and before her death made all of those properties
yours. I'm sorry I put you in this situation.”

“Stop it,” I said as thunder rolled
in the background. “I don't think you're giving me enough credit. Her blood
runs in my veins, remember?”

“Of course it does, but this is
different. If you're saying you can be just as tough as she was, I'm not sure
if you can know that. Not yet.”

“I'm glad you told her about the
dream you had,” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

I nodded wordlessly.

“Sometimes,” he said, his voice so
low I almost lost it in another peal of thunder, “sometimes I wonder how things
would've gone if I just shut my mouth. I got selfish, and that's something I
said I'd never do.”

“It isn't selfish to want to be
happy. Well, if it
is
, then I'm
selfish too.”

“You can be happy,” he said with a
wistful smile. “Your grandmother loved you more than life itself. I saw the way
her eyes shone when she spoke of you. She did her best to give you something
that she knew you'd never had the chance to have. Home. A real home, to call
your own.”

“I know. But that isn't enough,” I
told him.

He frowned. “What more could you
want?”

Here it was. The moment. All I had to
do was tell him that I wanted him. Even if he didn't want me back, even if he
backed out at least I wouldn't die not knowing. I was deathly afraid that my
silence would ruin everything, and I searched my soul for the strength to tell
him that I belonged in his arms, now and forever.

Cade stood up. I watched him, my gaze
taking in his muscled form. He came over to stand in front of me and reached
down with his hands and cradled my face. I felt a spark jump from him to me,
and the electricity was echoed by a little bolt of lightning that ran down my
spine and a big one that struck somewhere near to us outside.

“I need you,” he said, his rough
voice even more husky than usual. “Things are going to get messy soon, and
before they do I need to know the you and I had our chance.”

Cade pointed at the rug at my feet.
“Hands
and knees, Rachel” he said. “I’m not willing to wait any longer to have you.

I found myself
obeying immediately, without thought or question, and when he undid his belt
and looped it around my neck like a collar, I let him. I was more than willing,
really. I was grateful, and I smiled as he tightened it just to the point of
uncomfortableness.

“This belt,’ he
said, dangling it in my face. I had eyes only for the thickness of his cock as
it grew in his jeans, and was hardly aware of the strip of leather swinging in
front of my face. “It’s my belt. Don’t touch my belt without my permission.
Touch it before I let you, and you’ll be very, very sorry. Do you understand?”

I nodded wordlessly. Down on my hands and knees like this,
all I could think about was being fucked by him. My pussy was wetter than I
could remember, and all of my daydreams and fantasies about Cade ran through my
mind in a flash

He tapped my mouth with one finger.
“Open.”

I did as he asked.

“Wider.”

I stretched my mouth open as far as I could, even going so
far as to say
“Ahhhhhhhhh,” but the sound was cut off by his cock as he
held my hair and pressed his thickness into my waiting, eager mouth. He was so
big that I struggled to take him at first, but when he gave a sharp yank on the
belt around my neck I stopped that in a hurry.

Concentrating on
getting a little air into my lungs when I could, I tried to take him even
deeper, bobbing up and down on him when he loosened his grip on my hair.

The wet noises of him sliding his length into my throat made
me squirm happily, and it wasn
’t long before my chin was wet
with my own drool. Cade had gotten up a head of steam and was getting more
forceful, no longer content with just my mouth and now trying to claim the back
of my throat with his massive cock as well. I did my best to accommodate him,
and before too long my efforts were rewarded as he slid in and out of my tight
throat with reckless abandon, every thrust and pump of him resulting in a deep,
sexy grunt from him and a whimper or moan from me.

He let go of my hair and reached down my back, clawing his
fingers roughly along my spine, working his way to my ass. He squeezed my ass
in his big hands as he kneaded the flesh, working his thumbs into the muscles.
He was so strong that it hurt a little, and the only way to get away from the
pain was to come forward, which only served to make me gag on his cock as he
somehow managed to work it even deeper.