Page 50 of Filthy Disciple

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“They do,” he confirms, scrubbing his hands over his face as he rolls out of bed to stand. “But I’m not bothered about that. Kitty won’t stop banging on the goddamn door until we’re awake and out of here,” he grouses. “Pain in my ass.”

I’m no longer focusing on the sibling byplay. I’m too busy staring at him and his morning wood.

“Are you always hard?”

“Only when I’m around you.” He grins, suddenly cheerful. “We’ll say hello to my ma, eat some breakfast in her place, then come back and you can sit on my face. How about that for a to-do list?”

“Cade, Kitty might be able to hear you,” I grumble, rubbing my temple where my hangover is making itself known. Absently, my eyes take in his bedroom, which is nothing more than a bed, dresser, and white walls which are total blank canvases.His floors are hardwood with no rug or even a chair. It feels like he just moved in… “I thought you lived here?”

“I do. And Kitty is the last person to worry about. Now, Ma, we might want to get dressed for that,” he drawls, disappearing for a moment into the bathroom. “I’ll give you a tour of my apartment later.” I hear the toilet flush, then he returns, opens a dresser drawer, and retrieves a pair of jeans.

I blink at him. “Cade.”

“Yeah?”

“Please tell me you washed your face.” When he just winks at me, I gasp. “You get back in that bathroom and wash your face!”

“Who’s going to make me?”

I gape at him then sputter, “We’re going to eat breakfast with your family!”

“They’re not going to sniff my face,” he points out.

“I’m not sitting on it after breakfast if you’re still wearing last night’s…” My nose crinkles. “Ew. Go and wash it.”

He mock-pouts. “You gotta ruin a good thing.”

I snort then ask, “Um, where’s my bag?”

“I’ll get it.” He jerks on his jeans, not bothering to button them, so I get to feast my eyes on his delicious eight-pack before he disappears again then returns with my baggage. “You okay?” He looks at me and lifts my suitcase onto the bed. “Sore?”

That arched brow makes me flush. “A little. Mostly, I’m just hungover. Last night was…” I hesitate, though I’m smiling as I unzip my carry-on. “I don’t know. Last night was—”

“Incredible,” he finishes for me, and my cheeks flush.

“Really?” My eyes dart to his for confirmation.

“Really.” His thumb caresses my lips as my smile widens. “Get dressed. I want you to meet my ma because she’s going to love you.”

He means it. And he’s not pushing me away or trying to back down from the intensity of the last few days. Man, this could be one of the best mornings of my life.

“Okay, I need a shower and so do you,” I retort, quickly unzipping my bag and pulling out some white jeans and a cute, cropped pink shirt.

I wear a lot of pastels, but pink is my favorite. It just makes me happy, like everything is rosy. I smile at how ridiculous it is, but it’s true.

“Babe, we’re just going for breakfast. Besides, I like the smell of us fucking on you,” he admits with zero shame as he pulls on a black T-shirt and reaches for his phone.

“Cade, I have to take a shower.” I laugh. “I’ll be super fast.”

Before he can stop me, I run toward his bathroom, which is much like his bedroom—completely empty. The white tile walls and floor look clean, but other than some black towels, along with his toothbrush and toothpaste, that’s all I see.

My feet are freezing on the floor as it doesn’t have a rug. I’m almost tempted to tell him I can go shopping with him forthings, but it’s too soon for that.

Shoving aside the strange vibe of the empty space, I’m in and out of the bathroom in five minutes, a new record for me. Hell, I barely even put any makeup on.

“Belle, you ready?” Cade asks, walking in as I walk out.

“Give me five minutes.” I arch onto tiptoe upon his approach and rub my nose along his jawline. “You smell of sex. My pussy, to be precise. Clean up.”


Tags: Serena Akeroyd Erotic