He's the One by Jane Beckenham (ready to read books .TXT) 📗

lifted her up slightly, pulling her down in one fluid rhythm onto his throbbing erection. “Once, is definitely not enough, Taylor Sullivan."

* * * *

"Tell me something about you?” Taylor questioned as she lay repleted in Cade's arms hours later. She'd lost count of how many times they'd made love—and it was making love. This wasn't just sex. Sex was emotionless, and Taylor knew what happened between her and Cade was full to the brim with emotion.

Cade lay on his back, bare and blatant, for her eyes only. Just looking at him roused a primal urge in her. His breathing had slowed, but his eyes glittered with unrestrained desire, narrowed and dangerous. Tiny shivers fluttered across her skin, like effervescent bubbles.

"What do you want to know?"

With the tip of her finger, Taylor drew ever-increasing circles on Cade's flat abdomen. “How about something you've never told any one,” she suggested.

His brow furrowed. “That deep?"

"Think of it as getting to know you. A sort of speed dating."

"I think we're past the first date, don't you?” Cade said, cocking his head to one side, his steady gaze holding hers.

Taylor struggled to stem the blush suffusing her face. “True. How about I go first."

"Thought you'd never offer."

Taylor, play punched him on the arm.

"Okay, so what it is it? Are you a closet bungee jumper?"

"No."

"I know, you're afraid of heights."

"That would be good. Imagine trying to put up miles of silk ribbon and afraid to go past the first rung on the ladder. Nope. You'll have to try harder, Cade."

Seconds passed, and slowly, Cade's mouth spread into a devilish grin. “I know.” And he edged closer, “You're ticklish.” And he lunged for her. Taylor scrambled, but not fast enough before Cade grabbed her, his fingers tickling wherever they touched.

It was heaven and hell mixed together. “No, no. Wrong,” Taylor screamed, laughing and almost crying at the same time.

"Yeah right,” Cade pulled back breathless, his face flushed with humor.

Taylor kept her distance and tried to keep a serious face. “I ... I have ... um ... two left feet,” she said, scrambling for anything—anything but owing up to tickles.

"I don't believe it. You're a wedding planner."

Taylor shrugged. “Sorry, but that doesn't mean I have to dance. I organize others to do it, that's all."

He laughed—a real belly laugh and his face lit up, the creases on either side of his mouth dimpling, making Taylor's heart constrict in her chest.

"So how do you make sure they can dance, if you can't?"

"I tell them to go to dance lessons,” she said matter of factly. “Right, that's me, now what about you? You can't be good at everything. Oh, I know what it is. You wear shoe lifts. That's it."

"Yeah, right. Not,” Cade responded as if insulted, which of course he would be, the man towered over most. He didn't need enhancements.

He's perfect

Taylor caught herself up sharp with that thought. Steady on, Sullivan. It's a game, remember?

But Cade's smile had evaporated and a deathly silence pervaded the bedroom with each passing second. Taylor reached out, her fingers grazing across his bare arm. “It's okay, you don't have to spill the beans. It's a silly game anyway,” she admonished herself, annoyed that she'd started the stupid game anyway, ruining the moment.

"Can't say I run from a challenge."

Taylor brightened. “True."

Cade sucked in a lungful of air, his grip tightening on her fractionally. She pressed herself against him, silently willing him to share. Something of Cade himself—more than sex. That she needed it surprised Taylor—and scared her. When had things had changed—from sex to wanting, needing more of Cade than he offered?

"When I was ten, my mother left."

For a moment, Taylor was unsure how to respond. Finally, she garnered her courage. “I'm so sorry, Cade. That must have been very hard.” Taylor had expected fun, fly on the wall humor, not something so deep and insightful from him.

"Yeah, well, it's a long time ago. Probably, for the best."

"But you didn't think so then?"

"No, not then. My parents argued—a lot. Sometimes it began from the time they got up, ‘til well into the night. Eventually, Dad came home later and later, but the moment he did, he would get an earful. This wasn't right, that wasn't done. Not enough money. On and on."

"Parents don't realize how much kids take in."

"You can say that again,” Cade agreed. His face had taken on a pained expression, eyes dark and sad as if he'd traveled back to his childhood.

"I took it in. Thankfully, Zane doesn't remember much, and Katie was too young to know anything, except where the next feed was coming from. Then, it stopped."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah, just like that. Mum left. Walked out and everything went silent. Then, my father lost it. He couldn't cope with losing her. Oh, he wailed and railed against her, cursing her to the demons, but at night, when he thought we were asleep, he cried."

"Oh...” What could she say? I'm sorry? Such words seemed inadequate. Taylor's heart bled for Cade, for his family, and most of all, for his lost childhood. She might have a straight-laced family and be the odd one out, never really feeling she was as good, or successful for their mold, but she knew deep down they loved her in their own awkward way. They just never said it, that was all.

Cade turned over on his side and gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly. “It's hard to admit."

"Why? Because big boys don't cry? That's silly, Cade."

He frowned down at her. “No, that's not it. It's because I saw him. Saw him wail into his beer, wallowing in self-pity."

"It must have been hard for him."

"Him! What about the kids? About me? I vowed and declared then I wouldn't be like him. Wouldn't let myself be destroyed by...” Cade pulled himself up short and slammed his mouth closed. He spun away from her, but not before she seen the look of sheer horror sprint across his face. “Damn it."

"It's okay, Cade."

"Is it? I've spewed