Scoffing, cheeks red-hot, I tug my hand away and flick his cheek. “You would say that, pervert.”
He barks a laugh that makes his giant shoulders shake, and I get caught up in howbighe is. Wide and thick and muscular allover. His eyes flit to me, hands tightening on the wheel as he cocks a brow.
“Who’s the pervert now, darlin’?” he drawls, wetting his lower lip. “Like what you see?”
“No,” I say, deadpan, tossing my hair over my shoulder as I force my gaze to the window. “Just thought I saw a bug in your beard. Don’t worry, it was only your gray’s, old man.”
“Well, geriatric must be your thing, because you were screaming my name a few nights ago and squirting all over this old man’s beard, weren’t you?”
My mouth falls open, a denial already forming on my tongue, but the sight of him smug, eyes glazed and heavy with lust, sends a sharp bolt of need down my spine. Clit pulsing, nipples standing at attention, he’s impossible to deny.
It’s always like this when he’s around. Even when I was swearing up and down I hated him.
“Cat got your tongue?” he taunts, lighter and freer than he was yesterday, weeks ago, months ago. Slowly yet surely, Kade Archer is coming back to life before my eyes.
“Sorry to break it to you,” I say around a laugh, “but age-gaps aren’t really my thing.” Clicking my tongue, I settle into the seat, letting the warmth from the heater coat my skin. “My best friend, Abby, however, loves older men.”
“How old we talkin’?”
I think back to the guys she’s had crushes on over the years. They were all at least ten years older. Even her ex-husband—and still-boss—Steven is twelve years older than she is. But the age difference didn’t stop him from being a lying, cheating prick who stole her freedom, her money, and her condo in an ugly divorce.
“Never seen her date or like a man less than ten years older than her,” I finally say with a shrug. “Not that she’s out here actively hunting sugar daddies. It’s just... she’s got a thing forthe emotionally unavailable with a hint of salt-and-pepper and trauma.”
Kade laughs. “Sounds like she’d love Griff.”
I snort. “Griffin’s a six-and-a-half-foot-tall teddy bear. Abby would eat him alive.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he mutters. “He hand-raises rescue ponies.”
“She’s more candlelight, tarot cards, and‘let’s move to Bali to sell macramé’than barn boots and farm chores.”
“In his defense, the man makes the best damn bourbon-glazed ribs I’ve ever had.”
“One, Abby’s a vegan,” I say, chuckling. “And two, it sounds like you want to date Griffin.” My brows waggle. “Bit of a bromance thing going with your beloved Sarge?”
“He wishes.” Kade smirks, eyes dragging over me like he’s starving. “Fact that your best friend likes older men doesn’t surprise me.”
I arch a brow. “Why not?”
“Because if her type’s anything like yours, she’s probably got a thing for big, capable hands and the kind of experience that ruins a woman for anyone else.”
My mouth drops open. “I didn’t… I never…”
He chuckles low in his throat, all gravel and sin. “You didn’t have to, darlin’. You’ve been starin’ at my hands since we left the house.”
“Only because they were on my thigh,” I shoot back, voice breathy despite myself.
And because they’re perfectly calloused and huge and felt so damn good inside me, I’m literally panting for a repeat.
“Exactly.” He winks, then slows the truck to a quiet, rumbling stop. The headlights stretch out across an open stretch of dark green field, rimmed by trees and swallowed by night. “We’re here.”
My brows pull together in confusion as I glance around. “Already?”
“Yep.” He kills the engine and opens his door with a creak. “Stay put.”
Before I can argue, he’s jogging around the truck. The tailgate squeaks open, followed by the soft bounce of him climbing into the bed. I shift in my seat, trying to get a peek at what he’s doing, but it’s too dark.
After a few minutes, I’ve determined he’s setting something up, but I have no idea what it is. The sound of Fleetwood Mac’s “Chains” fills the silence, and my brows furrow.
