We jolt apart.
“Fuck,” Kade mutters, rolling his eyes Heavenward. “Seriously?”
I spin away from him and hustle down the hall, freezing when I spot Bea in the kitchen, hands full of reusable tote bags.
A massive body collides into my back with an irritatedoomph. Hands land on my hips and squeeze. I wince, shifting my weight to accommodate my right hip. It’s still sore as hell.
“Are you ok—”
“Kade?” Bea says sweetly, smile growing. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s my house, Ma.”
She laughs and goes back to unpacking her loot. “But what are you doing here with my Honey Bea Bash assistant? I need her, you know.”
“Me too,” he mutters, voice so low, I barely hear him.
I swallow hard, mind searching for an excuse but with his hands on my hips, body pressed into mine, the hard length of him digging into my back—my brain is suddenly mush.
“Everything alright?” Bea continues, clearly distracted. “I noticed the mud on your pretty car, sweetheart. A few scratches too. Something happen?”
“Bit of a mishap,” I murmur. “But everything’s fine.”
“Got stuck in some mud. I towed her out,” he adds, voice thick. “But she’s got a flat. Told her to come here so I can fix it.”
The fingers of his hand furthest from Bea’s watchful gaze, rub in soothing, soft circles and I nearly groan, but then I blink, his words sinking in.
Shit. I forgot about my tire.
“Glad everything worked out.” Her gaze collides with where we’re hovering like freaks in the hall, and they slide down my body, landing on his hands on my hips. Her eyes flare, and I go to step away, but he holds me in place.
Before I can elbow him and run away, she smiles and glances up at him. “I brought you boys lunch for this afternoon. Wilder asked for my pot roast, but I added some pasta just in case you’re still hungry.”
Bea turns to the fridge and busies herself putting things away, but I’m rooted to the spot, heart in my throat, belly swooping and soaring.
Kade taps my hip and leans down to whisper, “I’m not done with you yet, freckles, so don’t you dare go gettin’ any wild ideas like running for the hills. Got it?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, barely resisting the urge to lean into his intoxicating touch.
“We can’t do this,” I say on a shaky breath.
“Says who?” he asks, just as quietly, burying the words in my hair. “I told you before, when I want something, I don’t stop till it’s mine.”
My heart threatens to explode from my chest. Is it possible he actuallyfeelswhatI feel?
Does Kade Archer likemethe way I likehim?
His free hand slides down my back, keeping his movements slow and hidden in the shadows of the hall. He squeezes my ass and my eyes snap open, staring at hismother’sback as she hums a tune and straightens up, completely oblivious to her inappropriate son a few feet away.
I press back into him, drunk and delirious on his touch—at the forbiddenness of the moment, the risk of getting caught.
“And what is it you want?” I whisper, throat tight, smile lifting.
He brushes his lips over my ear and grips my ass tighter, fingertips ghosting the wetness between my thighs. “This.”
With that, he lets go and steps around me, leaving my body hot and cold all over.
I watch in a daze as he kisses his moms cheek, murmuring a quietthank youlike he wasn’t just two seconds from discovering how soaked he made me.
