Tiffany Snow - Out of Turn

But I could feel his hand in mine, and it was warm and strong.

“Yeah.”

And that was the last thing I said to Blane before walking out the door with Kade.

Kade led me to his car and I slid into the passenger seat when he opened the door. My mind was a blank, processing only the physical necessities of putting one foot in front of the other and breathing in and out.

Coincidentally, that hurt like a sonofabitch.

It was the middle of the night and I had no clue where Kade was taking me, not that I cared. If not for Blane, I’d be dead. He’d saved me. Again.

That rankled.

I was grateful for Blane’s extremely timely intervention. But it bothered me that I hadn’t been able to save myself. I’d almost gotten to my gun, but what was it my dad used to say? Oh yeah.

Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

It was just a few minutes later when Kade stopped the car in a parking garage.

“Where are we?” I asked, looking around.

“My place.”

Well. That explained how he’d gotten to my apartment so quickly in the middle of the night. He couldn’t live but five miles away. Of course, those five miles traversed the gap between the bad side of town and the nice side.

I got out of the car before he could open the door for me, anxious to show that I was all right. Now that I was snapping out of my panic and terror, I was embarrassed at my meltdown back at my apartment.

Kade again linked our fingers together as we walked to an elevator. Once inside, he punched the button for the top floor. A few moments later, he was unlocking the door to his apartment and I followed him in.

The space looked remarkably similar to his last apartment, prior to when it had gotten blown up. Hardwood floors, comfortable though expensive-looking furniture, all in creams, beiges, and warm ivories. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up one wall and I drifted toward them to look outside.

I heard Kade toss his keys on the countertop in the kitchen, then the more careful sound of him depositing his gun. I turned to watch him. He’d crouched down and lifted the cuffs of his jeans, removing a gun from one leg and a knife from the other.

He looked dangerous and raw. He’d gotten dressed in a hurry, it seemed, pulling on a white tank, dark jeans, and black boots. The muscles in his biceps flexed as he moved, the veins in his forearms—made prominent by pumping iron—stood out in stark relief under his skin. His black hair was tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed, which made him look even more appealing.

Kade stood, glancing my way. “You want a drink?” He took a highball glass out from a cabinet and opened his freezer, pulling out a bottle of vodka.

I shook my head. “No, thanks.” I was still turning over that new leaf.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He poured a shot of the clear fluid and tossed it back in one swallow. He eyed me, one brow raised, and I suddenly realized I was staring. I flushed and looked away.

“How’s the ribs?”

“Hurts.”

“I bet.” He set the glass down and disappeared into the bathroom I’d noticed near the entryway. When he came back, he was carrying something. “Come in here,” he said, heading across the living room.

I followed him into an expansive bedroom. A king-size bed took up the center of the space and a leather wingback chair sat by a fireplace in an alcove. The colors were darker in here, the wood of the furniture a deep mahogany.

“Did you decorate this?” I asked.

He snorted. “Right. Please. I hire shit like that.”

Of course he did.

“Lie down,” he ordered, opening the jar he held. “Pull up your shirt.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?” I squeaked.

He rolled his eyes. “This will help with the ache,” he said, holding up the jar.

Oh.

I slipped off my shoes and climbed up onto the bed. The covers were turned back and the pillows askew. Obviously, Kade liked to use the whole bed when he slept. The cotton sheets were of a thread count I’d never be able to afford, their color a deep coffee.

The pillow smelled of Kade and I had to resist the urge to bury my nose in it, instead turning to lie half on my back, half on my side. Kade raised my right arm above my head and I rested it on the pillow. His movements were impersonal as he pushed the fabric of my shirt up, exposing my abdomen and back.

Kade gave a low whistle as he examined the bruises. “Nice. They’re even prettier now.”

The gel was ice-cold and I hissed when it touched me, flinching away from him. But his touch was surprisingly gentle as he rubbed the gel into my skin.

We didn’t speak, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable—and I watched him, his gaze intent on his task. The slow swipes of his hand relaxed me, the gel turning from cold to warm against my skin.

I wondered why he was doing this, bringing me here, defying Blane to do so. Kade wasn’t the type of person to be kind just for the sake of kindness.

“You’re being awfully nice to me,” I said after a while.

“Don’t let that shit get around,” he quipped, his gaze flicking to mine, then away.

A smile tugged at my lips. Kade did that a lot, made me smile no matter the circumstances.

The bruising extended down to my hip and Kade pushed the top of my knit shorts lower, his fingers slipping under the cotton.

And abruptly I went from relaxed to… something else.

I didn’t know what possessed me then. Maybe it was the fact that I was in his bed, or maybe it was the slow heat building inside my skin, or maybe it was just that this was Kade and he was touching me in a soft, slow way that made it seem he wasn’t in any hurry to stop. Whatever it was, I found myself reaching for him, my hand and nails trailing a light path from his shoulder, over his biceps, to his forearm.

Kade froze. His piercing blue eyes lifted to mine and I tried to read what he was thinking, but it was impossible.

The moment became heavy and I was acutely aware of his hand, large enough to span the breadth of my side, as it rested just below my breast.

“Don’t,” he said.

The word was unexpected, as was the stiffly curt way in which it was said.

My face flushed hotly and I yanked my hand back, embarrassed to the marrow of my bones. I wanted to crawl under the covers and hide until he went away.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, yanking my shirt down. I couldn’t look at him. I moved to sit up, to get off his bed, but he pushed me back down into the pillows. In the blink of an eye, he was on top of me, his knees braced on either side of my thighs and his hands pinning my arms over my head.

“Do you have any idea what it’s doing to me, seeing you in my bed?” he hissed.

Kade’s anger both frightened and thrilled me. His face was inches away, his eyes boring into mine. I couldn’t blink, could barely breathe. I gave a tiny shake of my head.

“I’ve fantasized about this,” he said. “It’s taking everything I have not to rip your clothes off and make love to you, injured or not.”

His words sent a bolt of heat through me, his body so close to mine that my chest brushed his when I breathed. My gaze dropped to his mouth and I licked my lips, remembering what it had been like when he’d kissed me before. His hold on my wrists tightened almost to the point of pain. My breath came faster and my pulse pounded.

Our eyes locked, the unholy fire burning in his making the blood pound in my veins. “So what’s stopping you?”

“I’m not your rebound guy. You want to get back at Blane, use someone else.”

Well, that was a douse of cold water if I’d ever felt one.

And just like that, he was up and gone from the room.

I wasn’t proud of myself in that moment. As a matter of fact, I felt pretty much like a complete slut. I’d actually made a pass at Kade and been rejected because of my ex-boyfriend.

I groaned and buried my face in the pillow. This all had to be a nightmare and I’d wake up anytime now.

Well, I did wake up, several hours later, but nothing had changed. I was still in Kade’s bed. Alone.

I’d been covered with a blanket and the duvet at some point during the night and now I pushed them aside. There was a master bath in the bedroom and I went in there. It was beautiful and luxurious. Knowing I didn’t want to face Kade yet, I took a shower, taking an inordinately long time to sniff his shampoo before lathering it into my hair. Searching through the drawers turned up some extra toothbrushes, still in their packaging, so I chose one and brushed my teeth.

I wrapped myself in a towel and used Kade’s brush on my hair, carefully cleaning the long strands caught in the bristles once I was finished. When I came out of the bathroom, Kade was sitting on the edge of the bed.

I paused outside the door, and our eyes caught. I felt my face heat as I remembered last night, and I was unsure what to say or do. Maybe he wouldn’t talk about it and we could pretend it never happened. I was all for that.

“I brought you some things,” he said, motioning to a suitcase sitting a few feet away. “And your purse.”

I still didn’t know what to say. Exactly how long did Kade plan on me staying with him?

“I’m leaving town,” he said. “Thought you might want to come with me. Get you out of Indy for a few days until the mess with Gage is… resolved.”

I think Kade’s version of “resolved” included an obituary, but who was I to complain? It seemed it was going to be either Gage or me, the way things had been going the past couple of days.

So a trip, then. With Kade. “Where?” Not that I particularly cared. Getting away from my life for even a short time sounded heavenly.

Kade’s lips twitched in a smirk. “Vegas, baby.”

* * *

I’d never been to Las Vegas before. Well, actually, I hadn’t been much of anywhere before. The heat of the Nevada desert took my breath away and I was glad for the AC blowing full blast in the Mercedes that Kade had rented.

I couldn’t conceal my excitement as I peered out the window like a kid going to Disneyland for the first time. The ride from the airport to the hotel was barely long enough for me to get a glimpse of the looming hotels and casinos flanking the Strip.

“We’ll take the tour later,” Kade said as he pulled up to a hotel. I had a glimpse of a huge fountain as we passed by. “It’s better at night.”

A few days of relaxation sounded too good to be true, and I was grateful Scott had said he’d cover my shifts at The Drop. I’d miss a couple of classes but could get caught up without too much of a problem. Mona had happily agreed to watch Tigger for me, and though the trip was last minute, Kade and I had flown on a private jet borrowed from “a friend” of his.

Barely had Kade stopped the car before my door was being opened by a uniformed valet. Another was getting the luggage from the trunk, and I saw Kade hand his keys and a tip to a third and then pocket a ticket. Kade’s hand settled on the small of my back as he guided me inside the hotel.

The moment my eyes adjusted from the brightness outside to the interior, I stopped short, my mouth gaping. The lobby was the most beautiful I’d ever seen, with a huge glass sculpture crafted into the ceiling, every color of the rainbow shown in gorgeous detail.

“Wow,” I breathed, feeling precisely like Dorothy dropping from Kansas into Oz.

“You like that, huh?” Kade asked with a smile, hooking his sunglasses in the neck of his shirt.

“It’s… amazing,” I said. There were no words to adequately describe the sculpture, and I kept craning my neck to look up as Kade led us to the registration desk.

Although we didn’t have a reservation, that didn’t seem to matter once Kade gave his name. The woman behind the desk looked him up in the computer and said, “Welcome back, Mr. Dennon,” then handed us a small packet. “Joseph will show you to your room.”

Kade thanked her and we followed a uniformed man while another pushed our luggage on a cart behind us. Joseph had to insert a key card into a slot in the elevator before we could access the correct floor, and a few minutes later he was opening the door to the kind of hotel suite I’d only ever read about.

There was an honest-to-goodness foyer in the hotel room, and I passed by doorways going to a bedroom on my left and another on my right. Kade had gotten us a two-bedroom suite. I filed that information away for later, my attention completely absorbed now in the view out the curved windows stretching the width of the wall in front of me.