niece—“
“No niece of mine.” Brock glanced down, and Cade knew there was no hiding the raging hard-on that ridged his jeans. “And not yours either by the looks of it.”
“The way she’s dressed, a saint would get a hard-on,” Cade bit out, gritting his teeth as she faced the French doors. Her breasts were practically spilling out of that damned bikini top.
Full and firm, the cold hardening her nipples until they poked against the cloth in a way that had Cade’s mouth watering. He could almost feel them in his hands, in his mouth. He fought the desire, knowing it was useless.
“I need to get laid,” he sighed harshly, moving away from the doors. “It’s been too long since I’ve been with a woman.”
“Bout a year or so.” Brock nodded.
“How the hell do you know?” Cade bit out. “And when did you start keeping tabs?”
“The night you rushed Marge Cline outta the house after Marly ran from your study crying after catching you two on the couch. The next day, you burned the couch and bought a new one. You haven’t had a woman since.”
He was right. Cade cursed silently, remembering that night. He had just fucked Marge into a screaming climax when Marly walked into the room, her hairbrush in her hand, tears tracking her cheeks from another nightmare. She had walked into a living one.
Cade remembered the look on her face, the way her eyes had settled on his erection when he jumped to his feet, the fury that stole across her face.
“How could you?” She had thrown her hairbrush at him, aiming at his jutting arousal, and barely missing. “How could you do that with her? Don’t you know she tells everyone?” And she had run from the room, her sobs echoing through the house. Marge had been amused by the display, quietly informing him, as she dressed, of her sister’s claim that Marly believed herself in love with Cade. Cade had denied it, forcefully.
But he had seen the look in Marly’s eyes. He had seen her pain, and her possessive fury. He had seen the want in her gaze as her eyes widened at the sight of his steel hard flesh.
“She was shocked—“
“Shit. She was jealous as hell.” Brock laughed in genuine, affectionate amusement.
“Come on, Cade. The girl’s been trying to get your attention for four years now. Why not just give into it?”
“What are you, her pimp?” Cade snarled. “Since when were you so eager to get her fucked?”
“Since you turned into a snarling bear every time she’s around,” he grunted.
“Dammit, a person can’t get along with you anymore, Cade. If Marly’s around, it’s even Lora Leigh
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worse. And she’s no better. She eats you with her eyes every time you turn your head, and you do the same to her. Fuck her already, and get over it.”
The whisky glass Cade held shattered against the wall as the last syllable left Brock’s mouth. Cade turned on his brother, seeing red as anger, white hot and barely controlled, surged through his body.
“Shut up,” he snarled, realizing it as the rumble of words left his mouth. “Shut the hell up, Brock. And if I catch you touching her, I’ll kill you.”
Brock’s lips kicked up in a grin, small though it was, the amused look had Cade forcefully restraining himself from kicking his brother’s ass.
“Well, I see you’re going to be just as easy to get along with as you always are when she’s home,” Brock sighed with exaggerated tolerance. “And damned stingy for a change, too. You’re getting greedy in your old age, Cade.”
Cade wanted to growl. He contented himself with pouring another shot of whisky and downing it quickly. He wasn’t getting as greedy as Brock thought he was. That was the problem. God help him, and Marly, if he didn’t get a handle on this.
“Well, I’m outta here. I have a hottie waitin’ in town. After watching Marly’s little show out there for you, I’m primed and ready for her.” Brock chuckled at his own humor as he sauntered out
“No niece of mine.” Brock glanced down, and Cade knew there was no hiding the raging hard-on that ridged his jeans. “And not yours either by the looks of it.”
“The way she’s dressed, a saint would get a hard-on,” Cade bit out, gritting his teeth as she faced the French doors. Her breasts were practically spilling out of that damned bikini top.
Full and firm, the cold hardening her nipples until they poked against the cloth in a way that had Cade’s mouth watering. He could almost feel them in his hands, in his mouth. He fought the desire, knowing it was useless.
“I need to get laid,” he sighed harshly, moving away from the doors. “It’s been too long since I’ve been with a woman.”
“Bout a year or so.” Brock nodded.
“How the hell do you know?” Cade bit out. “And when did you start keeping tabs?”
“The night you rushed Marge Cline outta the house after Marly ran from your study crying after catching you two on the couch. The next day, you burned the couch and bought a new one. You haven’t had a woman since.”
He was right. Cade cursed silently, remembering that night. He had just fucked Marge into a screaming climax when Marly walked into the room, her hairbrush in her hand, tears tracking her cheeks from another nightmare. She had walked into a living one.
Cade remembered the look on her face, the way her eyes had settled on his erection when he jumped to his feet, the fury that stole across her face.
“How could you?” She had thrown her hairbrush at him, aiming at his jutting arousal, and barely missing. “How could you do that with her? Don’t you know she tells everyone?” And she had run from the room, her sobs echoing through the house. Marge had been amused by the display, quietly informing him, as she dressed, of her sister’s claim that Marly believed herself in love with Cade. Cade had denied it, forcefully.
But he had seen the look in Marly’s eyes. He had seen her pain, and her possessive fury. He had seen the want in her gaze as her eyes widened at the sight of his steel hard flesh.
“She was shocked—“
“Shit. She was jealous as hell.” Brock laughed in genuine, affectionate amusement.
“Come on, Cade. The girl’s been trying to get your attention for four years now. Why not just give into it?”
“What are you, her pimp?” Cade snarled. “Since when were you so eager to get her fucked?”
“Since you turned into a snarling bear every time she’s around,” he grunted.
“Dammit, a person can’t get along with you anymore, Cade. If Marly’s around, it’s even Lora Leigh
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34
worse. And she’s no better. She eats you with her eyes every time you turn your head, and you do the same to her. Fuck her already, and get over it.”
The whisky glass Cade held shattered against the wall as the last syllable left Brock’s mouth. Cade turned on his brother, seeing red as anger, white hot and barely controlled, surged through his body.
“Shut up,” he snarled, realizing it as the rumble of words left his mouth. “Shut the hell up, Brock. And if I catch you touching her, I’ll kill you.”
Brock’s lips kicked up in a grin, small though it was, the amused look had Cade forcefully restraining himself from kicking his brother’s ass.
“Well, I see you’re going to be just as easy to get along with as you always are when she’s home,” Brock sighed with exaggerated tolerance. “And damned stingy for a change, too. You’re getting greedy in your old age, Cade.”
Cade wanted to growl. He contented himself with pouring another shot of whisky and downing it quickly. He wasn’t getting as greedy as Brock thought he was. That was the problem. God help him, and Marly, if he didn’t get a handle on this.
“Well, I’m outta here. I have a hottie waitin’ in town. After watching Marly’s little show out there for you, I’m primed and ready for her.” Brock chuckled at his own humor as he sauntered out
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