My fingers slide over her body blindly, because I refuse to give up her mouth. Eventually, I find the ties to her robe, pulling them apart forcefully.
“Keys,” she breathes when we break apart. Her arms slide up around my neck as she gasps for breath. Her entire body trembles with desire. Her voice is hungry, full of need. Yet, when she uses my name, it just doesn’t sound good. For the first time in my life, I want more. It seems my relationship with Red is going to be full of firsts.
“Cade, sweetheart. My name is Cade. I want to hear that on your lips when we’re together.”
“I…” she can’t finish speaking because I begin nibbling on her neck, raking my beard against the sensitive skin.
I practically rip the robe off of her, pulling it apart, and pushing it down her arms. Red helps me, and soon it’s on the floor and she’s in nothing but an oversized shirt.
A man’s shirt.
A foreign feeling sweeps through me.
“Whose fucking shirt do you have on, Red?” I growl, wanting it off of her immediately. I don’t want anyone having any fucking claim to her but me. Red belongs to me.
She’s mine alone.
“What,” she pants, her lips pressing against the pulse point in my neck as she kisses me. Her teeth rake and tease along my neck. Her hands have moved down to fumble under my shirt, her nails raking against my abdomen.
“Whose shirt have you got on, Red?”
She pulls back looking at me, blinking as if she’s trying to clear her head. She swallows and looks up at me, licking her lips.
“Uh…Larry’s?” she answers, phrasing it like a question. “Can we have less talking and more undressing, Cade?”
“Take the shirt off.”
“I thought that’s what we were doing, Stud, although I’ve got to say, you’re kind of ruining the moment.”
“I don’t want something that belongs to another man on your body from this moment on, Red. I especially don’t want you wearing another man’s shirt when I’m fucking you,” I answer bluntly. She stares at me, and then shakes her head.
“Point made, Stud,” she laughs, but that just makes my frown deepen.
“I told you that my name is Cade when it’s just the two of us. I don’t give my name out to anyone. You? You get my name.”
Damn it all to hell.
This woman has me tied up in knots and I doubt she even realizes it. Suddenly, I’m remembering all those times I gave Shaft hell and it’s all biting me on the fucking ass.
9
Finley
I frown. I have the feeling that him giving me his real name means something to him. I have to admit, I like that he’s shared it with me. It feels like a gift, which might be silly, but it still feels that way.
“I tell you what, I’ll make a deal with you,” I bargain.
“This isn’t negotiable, Red.”
“What’s wrong? Are you chicken?”
He rolls his eyes at me, but I think I see the return of humor twinkling in his beautiful eyes. “What kind of deal?”
“If you can tell me what my name is before you fuck me—as you so romantically described it—I’ll take off Larry’s shirt and promise not to wear it again until you leave.”
Maybe I was imagining the humor in his eyes a moment ago, because now they look annoyed as hell. They even smolder in a way that makes me feel like my words angered him. I’m starting to remember why I’ve chosen toys all this time.
Men are damn complicated.
“I’m not planning on leaving, but if I can answer your question, you give me the shirt. It doesn’t go back on your body.”
“See? I like the idea of you not leaving for the night. I should warn you, I’m kind of a cuddler.”
“You wrapping that body of yours around me all night, Red? I can deal, I guess,” he says giving me a cocky as fuck grin. Then again, that’s Cade. He’s been cocky since moment one.
I can’t believe I’m going to sleep with him this soon.
I can’t believe I like saying his name this much.
I can’t believe I’m giving up my favorite shirt.
“You’re a cocky motherfucker,” I mutter, making him laugh.
“You going to ask your question, or am I just going to rip the shirt off of you and bury my face between your legs?” he asks, sending an all over body tremble through me. He doesn’t miss it, either. He sees the effect his words have on me. “Alrighty then, looks like I’m going muff diving,” he purrs, his words forcing a startled laugh out of me as he drops down on his knees in front of me.
“What’s my name?” I ask, slapping my hands on his shoulders, trying to stop him. I know that once he starts, I won’t be able to think straight enough to ask him.