Marly's Choice (Men of August 1)

“Mr. August, I suggest you refrain from using me in your battles.” Ms. Glaston came to her feet now, staring him down imperiously. “I don’t throw glasses, I throw punches, and trust me, they do damage.”

Cade sighed. He honestly hadn’t meant any harm. This time.

“I was merely going to tell her about your damned plan for you and Rick to do it instead,” he bit out in frustration. “Are all women so damned jumpy or what?”

“Are all men so damned stupid, or is it just you?” Tara snapped. “I’m going to bed myself. I’ve had about as much as this ignorance out of him as I can stand. Reminds me of why I stopped guarding damned men to begin with.”

She stomped from the room as Rick covered his mouth, fighting to hide his grin.

“She always so damned jumpy?” Cade plopped into a chair, staring at the doorway with a confused frown.

“Pretty much.” Rick grinned.

“She must be hell to be married to,” Brock broke in at this point with a dark look.

“Don’t know, I never asked her ex about it,” Rick shrugged, watching Brock with a frown.

“What are you, if not her husband?” Brock asked. “You sure as hell don’t look like her brother.”

“Brother-in-law. Ex to be exact,” Rick snickered. “And trust me, boy, she has a damned fine figure, but that’s one woman you don’t want to tangle with. She has PMS every day of the damned week.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Cade slammed the bedroom door him as he stalked into the room. Arousal and anger vied for supremacy within him, though his shaft throbbed harder than his fury burned at the moment. This was what he had wanted to protect Marly from. This furious build up of need, the demand that he dominate her, take her, make her affirm his control over her body. And he would. He had tried to do it her way. God knew he had fought the baser instinct that he knew drove him, but he couldn’t fight them any longer. And Marly. Sweet precious Marly was about to learn more about her lover than she had ever dreamed possible.

“Undress.” He kept his voice calm, his body still. He understood this. He could handle himself knowing what was to come. The craziness of fighting it made him unravel.

Amazement crossed her expression.

“I will not,” she bit out, frowning at him furiously.

Cade smile. A slow curve of his lips as he anticipated the night to come.

“I warned you not to deny me, Marly.” He unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans as he watched her eyes widen. “I had hoped we would be able to put this off until you were more comfortable with me, but I see we can’t.”

He loosened his belt, then pulled off his leather boots. Picking up his boots he set them neatly in his closet, then pulled off the shirt and laid it in a chair beside the door.

“Are you insane?” she squeaked, blinking. “This is no longer a sex game, Cade. Are you into rape too? Strange, I never heard about that one.”

Her bravado was commendable. He liked that about her. She rarely ever backed down, and even though he could see the flare of apprehension in her eyes, she wasn’t balking. At least, not at his anger.

“It never was a game, Marly, that’s what I tried to make you understand.” He locked the bedroom door, then the connecting door. “I tried to warn you, and even after you disregarded those warnings, I’ve tried to take it easy on you. But you’ve pushed me too far.”

“I pushed you too far?” Her slender finger was like a harsh exclamation point as she pointed first to herself, then to him. “Are you forgetting who is in the wrong here? You lied to me, Cade.”

“I tried to protect you, just as I’ve always done,” he corrected her gently. “Perhaps in the wrong way, but I tried all the same. Now, are you going to take those clothes off, or do I have to tear them off you?”

She blinked, shaking her head.

“I said no.”

His cock jerked, throbbed as lust kicked him hard in the stomach. She was saying no, and if he thought for one damned minute she wasn’t well aware of what saying that one little word meant, then he would have stopped. But she knew. He knew. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her nipples peaked beneath her sweater. She would deny it until hell froze over, but Marly knew what she was doing. It was her choice.

“Take the fucking clothes off, Marly,” he growled harshly. “I don’t want to have to ruin them.”

Her eyes widened in apprehension. It was a tone of voice he used only when he meant business. One she had never refused in the eight years she had lived under his roof. And it excited her. He could see the excitement in her eyes. Damn her, if he didn’t know better he would swear she had planned this. But her fingers shook when she pulled the sweater over her head, then removed her jeans, all the while watching him carefully. Before going to her, he walked to his window, jerking the curtains opened with a rough flick of his wrist.

The double windows were large, giving a clear view to anyone watching of the well-lit room, and Marly’s nearly naked body. She flinched, but stood her ground.