“You’re still breathing, aren’t you?” Quinn said indifferently. He sat next to Cade with a larger bowl of oatmeal which he ate plain.
“That’s not the point,” Cade protested.
“I knew you were fine. I gave you tissue to blow your nose. I know how to give the Heimlich maneuver if necessary.”
“I hate you,” Cade muttered. And drank his coffee, hating Quinn and the world. Even Mogs had been more interested in her breakfast than making sure he was all right.
But he calmed bit by bit, and nibbled on more fruit, although he ignored the yogurt.
“Where did you get the food from?” he asked.
“I asked the day team to bring it, with the promise of breakfast. As we’re going to be based here while you rehearse, we needed to stock up.”
“I have someone who delivers usually.”
Quinn shook his head. His chin caught on the spoon and a little oatmeal lodged in his stubble. Cade didn’t tell him. “I don’t want outsiders coming here.”
“I know them,” Cade pointed out.
“I know you do, but I’m betting Strada does too.”
“You think he’s going to poison the delivery?”
Quinn smiled. “No, but he could try to deliver a note to you.”
Cade stared down at his empty bowl. “He tried that in the beginning. Before things got nasty.”
“Okay, so no delivery drivers. And that includes Toxic Tessie’s flowers.”
“Who?” Cade felt like he’d missed part of the conversation.
“Your superfan. She can save her money or buy someone else carnations.”
“She’ll be devastated,” Cade said.
“She is receiving a visit today from Dominic who is going to explain that now is not a good time to contact you.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Cade was only partly joking. He’d seen what happened when stars rejected their superfans. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of Batty Brenda’s wrath.
“It’s wise,” Quinn said grimly.
Cade grinned as the doorbell echoed throughout the house and Quinn nearly shed his skin again.
“Jesus,” Quinn muttered.
Cade snickered as Quinn stalked to the door. He heard the familiar bellows of Keith, his drummer, as he barged in, and the quieter tones of his bass guitarist, Dave. The two of them were like apples and oranges.
Keith’s eyes lit up as he saw the breakfast spread over the counter. “Tell me some of that is for us.” He filled a bowl with oatmeal.
“He’s not a pig, unlike you,” Dave said, shoving Keith aside so he could hug Cade.
Cade was fully aware of Quinn watching them from the doorway. He returned Dave’s hug, but he knew Quinn relaxed a fraction when Dave stepped back and headed over to inspect what was left of the breakfast. Interesting.
“Where’s Ian?” he asked.
“The fucker overslept,” Keith said around a mouthful of oatmeal, spraying it all over Dave who leapt back, cursing at him.
Cade sighed. “Sorry, Quinn. I forgot to tell you these guys are pigs.”
Keith grinned and it was really a disgusting sight, oatmeal mashed into his teeth. “Ya got me, baby.”
Cade shook his head and grinned at Quinn. “I need to get ready.”
He got up, went to walk away, caught Quinn’s scowl, and picked up his plate to take over to the dishwasher. When he turned, he caught Quinn’s approving nod and Dave’s speculative glance. Dammit, he knew Dave was going to be asking questions.
Quinn followed him up the stairs, and Cade swore he was so close he could feel Quinn’s breath on the back of his neck.
At the bedroom door, Cade turned to Quinn. “You don’t need to come with me. I can dress myself. I’m a big boy now.”
It was meant to be a light-hearted quip, but his voice went a little breathy on the ‘boy’, and Quinn’s eyes darkened. Their gazes locked and Cade knew what Quinn was thinking about, because he was thinking exactly the same thing.
Cade made a noise in the back of his throat. Quinn reached out and stroked one finger from his jaw and down his neck.
“I…you…” Cade started.
The crash of something from downstairs made them both jump.
Quinn shook his head as if he were waking up. “Get showered and be back downstairs in ten minutes.”
“I take longer than that,” Cade scoffed.
“Ten minutes,” Quinn insisted.
“Or?”
He knew poking a sleeping tiger was never good, but he wanted to see what Quinn would do.
“Boys who disobey me always get disciplined.”
Cade bit his lip. “I’m not your boy.”
“As far as your friends are concerned, you are.”
“They don’t know about the Daddy/boy relationship. They think you’re my fussy, over-protective boyfriend.”
“Then they won’t be surprised when I drag you out of the shower. Nine minutes.”
“I don’t have to obey you.”
“Quit pushing me and get showered.”
Cade stared into eyes the color of melted chocolate. The desire to push and push until Quinn snapped was overwhelming. If the guys hadn’t been in the kitchen he would have. They both knew it.
Quinn bent down until his lips almost brushed Cade’s. “You don’t have to act out to get what you want.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Just. Ask.”
Cade sucked in a breath. He took a step back and would have fallen onto the stairs, but Quinn grabbed and steadied him. Even now he didn’t try to hug or cuddle him.
“Go on,” Quinn said. “Eight minutes.”
Cade growled and headed for the bathroom. He was halfway there when he suddenly realized Quinn had smacked his ass. Barely more than a pat and not enough to sting, but nevertheless. He turned but Quinn was gone. He was going to have words with his muscle—in seven minutes time.
Chapter 6
Quinn
It had been so hard to let Cade go shower by himself. Quinn hovered at the bottom of the stairs, between Cade and the rest of the world. Cade reappeared seven and a half minutes later still toweling his hair and wearing his T-shirt inside out.
“Good boy,” Quinn praised him. “Although you might want to turn your T-shirt around the other way.”
“Not your boy,” Cade said automatically, but Quinn saw the flash of pleasure in his eyes before he stripped off his shirt. Quinn couldn’t tear his gaze away from the nipple rings, the ink across one shoulder, stretching down his back and curling around his side. Between the ink and the treasure trail down his slender belly, Quinn wanted to pick Cade up in his arms and take him to bed.
“You like dragons,” he said.
“Yeah.” Cade’s voice was muffled as he slid the cotton over his head. He ran his hands through his hair and looked up at Quinn. “Better?”
Quinn liked the fact Cade sought his approval, even though he didn’t have to. “Better.”
They walked back into the kitchen to find Dave picking at the last of the fresh berries, and Keith on the phone, his face set in a scowl.
“Where’s Ian?” Cade asked.