Home > Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC #1)(31)

Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC #1)(31)
Author: Anne Malcom

I watched him cautiously, unsure of what to do. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but I had never seen anyone this angry. Not even Ian, and he saw me bruised and battered and almost dead. I guess maybe he checked it, saw I couldn’t deal. Cade most definitely hadn’t checked it.

I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling exposed. I threw on his tee, unsure if this was the right move, but I knew if he told me to leave I’d take this, as a reminder. He sensed my movement, his eyes roamed to me. Something registered, his expression changed and he slowly approached the bed, crouching in front of me. Anger saturated his expression before it softened.

“Baby, I’m not going to hurt you.” He tread carefully, thinking his reaction had set me off.

“I know,” I whispered, eyes locked to his.

His head jerked with surprise. He gently pushed me back on the bed to cover my body with his. He stroked my face tenderly, like I was made of glass.

“This swine, Jimmy, he got a last name?” Cade asked carefully, his quiet tone still shaking with anger.

“Yup,” I said slowly. “O’Fallhan,” I told him on a slight whisper.

Something flashed through Cade’s eyes, something too quick to catch, recognition?

“You know him?” I asked softly.

“No,” he said stroking my head. “What prison is he in?”

“Ummm, Attica,” I answered, having memorized all but his prisoner number, needing to know where he was, where he would be for the rest of his miserable life.

“Why?” I added, getting a bad feeling about the questions.

“No reason, babe, just need to know that fucker is locked up, or else I would hunt him down and kill him. Still might.” His voice was even, too even, like he didn’t trust himself to raise it.

Cade’s reaction rattled me, he was obviously really angry for me. More importantly, it showed how much he cared about me.

“No, Cade, he doesn’t deserve to die.” I stroked his cheek.

Cade directed a dangerous look at me.

“A man like that, being locked up for the rest of his life is exactly what he deserves. Death is too easy for him.” I watched as the look on Cade’s face turned to a sad sort of pride.

“You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

Cade’s mouth descended on mine and he kept me distracted, helping to keep the demons at bay.

For now.

 

I was lying on top of Cade, sated from yet another round of love making, tracing my fingertip over the skin on his left pec. I had never really had the time to inspect his tats up close. And man, they were kick ass. He was covered, but not in stupid, poorly done scribbles, he was a work of art. He had a huge tat, spanning his chest, two doves, one on each side, pulling a script which read “Keep the Faith.” Then above his left pec was an intertwined set of scales with “Peace” on one side, “Order” on the other.

His full sleeve started at the top of his neck, with a huge angel sprawling from his shoulder, spanning his back and arm. His forearm became so thick with tats, I was engrossed discovering them all, I actually lifted his arm to get a better look. I forgot for a second that he was an actual living, breathing man.

“Like what you see, baby?” he growled.

I peeked up through my eyelashes at him. “Your tats are the shit,” I whispered back, and his eyes got that funny intense look they had when I was wearing his tee.

“You hungry?”

“What?” I was thrown at the abrupt change in subject.

“Food? You know the stuff we eat to survive?” he asked deadpan.

I burst out laughing and didn’t stop for a while. I knew Cade was starting to get pissed off when he hauled me up his body and growled, “Babe.”

“Sorry, Cade, I think that’s the first time you have actually attempted something resembling a joke,” I wheezed, wiping a tear from underneath my eye dramatically. “I decided to savor it.”

I smirked and he just stared at me. He then picked me up, walking us to the kitchen before unceremoniously plopping me down on his kitchen counter.

“Cade!” I jumped off the counter as he pulled bacon and eggs out of the refrigerator.

“What, woman?”

“I don’t have any clothes on,” I said stating the obvious.

“Not planning on walking out the door anytime soon, babe.”

Cade set a fry pan on the stove before walking back up to me and setting me back on the counter. He stayed there, standing between my legs, hands either side of my body.

“Besides, I like the view. And I like knowing, if I feel like it, I can fuck you, no barriers to worry about.”

He gave me a quick bite on the breast to make his point, then cupped me between my legs. My eyes rolled back into my head, that area highly sensitive.

“Yeah, but I am sitting naked on your kitchen counter, it’s not very hygienic,” I breathed out.

Cade smirked. “I don’t give a fuck, babe, in fact I may never wash that counter again. Now stay,” he ordered before turning back to the stove.

My temper made its appearance. “Did you just order me like a dog?”

Cade eyed me. “Nope. Dogs listen a fuck of lot more than you.”

I huffed, wide eyed and decided to ignore him. I looked around his kitchen, it was quite big, for a bachelor pad. All the appliances were stainless steel, not brand new, but nothing crappy either. His countertops were white, his cupboards brown. It ran into a sort of dining area at the back of the house, where a cluttered wooden dining table sat in front of a set of French doors that looked like they led out to a patio area.

Without being able to stop myself, my gaze went back to Cade, putting bread in the toaster. Unlike me, he wasn’t naked. He had put on his jeans, commando, top button undone. He had his back to me, and I got the chance to marvel at the huge tattoo covering his whole back. It was similar to his patch, the grim reaper riding a bike under a road of skulls, with script reading “Sons of Templar” at the bottom. The background was flames, and they were so vivid they looked almost real. Even though I wasn’t a big fan of skulls and crossbones, I had to say it was awesome.

I realized we had been sitting in silence for quite a while, not uncomfortable, I guessed with the amount of words we had shared throughout the day, silence might be good.

“How old are you?” I asked, curious. He was definitely older than my twenty-five years, but I couldn’t quite figure out how much.

He glanced at me from the stove. “I’m thirty-two.”

My eyes popped out. “Seriously? Wow, you’re an old man.”

He turned off the heat. “You didn’t seem to mind an old man fucking you ten minutes ago.”

“No, well as long as you don’t put your hip out,” I continued, teasing. “Don’t you want to know how old I am?” I asked after he didn’t reply.

Cade glanced at me. “Already know how old you are, Gwen.”

That was a surprise. “What, did you do a background check on me or something?” I joked, my brows narrowed when he just looked back at me. “Did you seriously do a background check on me?” I asked in a sharp tone.

“Babe, as soon as I saw you outside your house, knew I had to have you. I had one of the boys look you up, so I knew what I was working with. I hardly call looking up your Facebook page a background check,” he replied, amusement dancing in his eyes.

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