“We raised her, Brock.”
Brock was silent for long moments, then Cade heard the deep breath he drew into his lungs.
“Yeah, we raised her, but she’s no blood of ours, Cade. If I didn’t know how hard you got every time you looked at her, then I’d have already tried to get her into my bed.”
Cade turned on him slowly, anger eating him alive.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Cade asked him hoarsely. “She’s our 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 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 of the room. “Have a nice evening bro. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
Cade turned back to the French doors, his eyes narrowing as Marly stepped up to the diving board. As her lithe body poised to begin her jump, her gaze met his in the glass. He watched her cheeks flush, her nipples harden. His gaze went back to her face, and her pink little tongue ran over her pouty lower lip slowly. Then she jumped. Her body cleaved smoothly through the water, and Cade felt his stomach drop. He was a goner.
He lowered his head, somber, saddened. His past was ugly, the results of it even darker. He was an animal, a craven bastard that would shred her innocence, and her purity with the demands he would make on her. Brock knew, as did Sam, and he knew they were eagerly waiting the day Cade would give into his own dark desires. He loved her, he always had. But he also knew there was no way Marly would see his love as the tender, gentle emotion she needed. She would come to see it for what it was. A ravenous, decadent emotion that would feed from her desires, increase them, darken them. He was damned to hell, Cade knew, for what he would eventually do to the love she offered him.
Chapter Six