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4. Like A Woman Chased

Author: H. Dally
last update publish date: 2026-09-22 08:42:56

Cade’s mouth is nothing like I imagined.

Not that I’ve imagined it. But the moment his lips slant over mine, every thought I’ve ever had about Cade Carter goes up in smoke.

He kisses me like he’s been holding his breath all night. His tongue slides against mine, and a shudder rips down my spine so hard my knees give out. His arm locks around my waist and holds me up.

My hands fly up and fist in his T-shirt, and I’m not sure if I’m pulling him closer or holding on to keep from falling.

“Fuck,” he growls against my mouth. “Come here.”

Then he turns us.

My back hits the mirror. It’s supposed to be cold, yet I barely feel it. Cade’s body is a wall of heat against mine, and it’s the only thing I feel.

He kisses the corner of my mouth, my jaw, the spot beneath my ear, and my head falls back against the mirror with a sound I’ve never made in my life.

At the same time, his big, rough hands move everywhere. They slide over my shoulders, stroke up the side of my neck.

He cups my face and steals my lips again, deeper, slower, and every nerve in my body lights up like a fuse.

His other hand trails down the plunging neckline of my dress, where his knuckles brush the swell of my breasts, making me arch off the mirror. Then down my ribs, my waist.

When he gets to the curve of my hips, he grips hard and pulls me against him.

A gasp escapes my lips as I feel every hard inch of him. His want for me.

He groans into my throat and drags the hem of my dress up my thigh. The warm bathroom air hits my skin for half a second before his hot palm replaces it, sliding higher and higher.

His fingers trace the inside of my thigh, and my legs tremble so badly that I have to grab his shoulders.

I’m shaking. I’m burning. There’s an ache between my legs so sharp it’s almost painful, and I’m dizzy from wanting him to end it.

“Cade…” I breathe.

His fingers reach the edge of my panties and slowly slide under the waistband. They’re so close. Just an inch more and they’ll reach where I ache for him the most.

The sound of someone rattling the bathroom door slices through the room like a blade.

I freeze.

It takes more than a second for the world to snap back into focus.

“What the fuck?” a man’s voice slurs from the other side. “Why is this locked?”

I shove at Cade’s chest with both hands, and he goes still. His hand slides out from under my dress. Neither of us moves.

The knob jiggles again, harder.

“Hello? Anybody in there?”

My heart is thumping so violently I can barely hear anything else. I press a hand over my mouth to stop myself from making a sound.

Cade is silent, his chest rising and falling against mine, his eyes never leaving my face.

A muttered curse comes from the other side of the door before footsteps fade down the hallway.

The air rushes out of me as I look at myself in the mirror. My lips are swollen. My hair is wild. My dress is still hiked up my thighs.

I can barely recognize the girl staring back at me.

I’m standing in the bathroom of the clubhouse where Dax is celebrating his engagement, and I almost let Cade fuck me.

Cade.

The fuckboy of Eastwood University.

A guy I couldn’t even stand minutes ago.

A guy who also happens to be Dax’s stepbrother.

And the craziest part is that I didn’t think of Dax once. Not when Cade kissed me. Not when his hands were between my thighs.

If someone hadn’t rattled the door…

“Oh my God.” I press a hand to my mouth. “Oh my God.”

I immediately start straightening my dress with shaking hands.

Then I look up at Cade. “This never happened.”

His jaw tightens. He doesn’t say anything, but I don’t wait long enough for him to.

I twist the lock, yank the door open, and walk out without looking back.

I hurry back into the party, and the music crashes over me. I’m so busy trying not to look like I’ve just been ravished that I walk straight into a guy carrying two beers.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry,” I mutter.

I force myself to breathe. To look normal. My eyes dart around the room, searching for Dax’s familiar blond hair, my stomach twisting.

But he’s nowhere in sight.

He’s probably somewhere with Brenna, celebrating. And for the first time all night, I’ve never been so grateful for it.

Then I turn back and see Cade coming out of the hallway, his gray eyes finding mine, his steps purposeful.

Hell no.

I hurry toward the exit while keeping my chin up and pretending I’m just a girl leaving a party.

The cool night air hits me as I step outside, and I gulp it in.

Just as I’m considering how the hell I can get out of here fast enough, I spot a silver sedan with an Uber sign in its windshield.

I rush over. “Excuse me, are you available?”

“You know you have to request through the app, miss,” the middle-aged driver points out.

I don’t wait for him to finish. I open the back door and climb in.

“I’ll do it on the way. Please. Just drive.”

The driver hesitates, then shrugs before maneuvering the car onto the road. I sink into the seat and lock the door.

“Miss, are you okay?” he asks, briefly glancing back at me. “Is someone after you?”

I know how this looks. Me running like a woman being chased. And the truth is, Cade wasn’t even following me. I just knew I had to get away before my body betrayed me again.

“No,” I respond. “No one is after me. And I’m fine.”

I’m not fine.

My heart is racing out of control. My lips are swollen, and my skin is still humming wherever Cade touched me.

Adrenaline is pumping through my veins like nothing I’ve ever felt, the kind of rush that only comes when you do something completely, stupidly reckless.

A rush I can’t ever allow myself to feel again.

Because Cade is Dax’s stepbrother.

I can’t be in love with one brother for three years and turn into a hot mess for the other one in a single night.

I press my forehead against the window, trying to calm myself. I won’t gain anything from freaking out.

Besides, whatever happened tonight doesn’t matter.

Cade is going back to Eastwood. To his own school. His own team. And his own life.

I won’t see him for weeks. Maybe even months.

And by then, I’ll have surely forgotten that this ever happened.

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