“Okay.” Quinn stood and held out his hand. “You want to dance?”
Cade blinked at him. “Now? With you?”
He’d expected to dance on his own or with the band. Eric had never wanted to dance with him.
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to ask Ian?”
Cade felt the growl in the back of his throat. He was on his feet before he thought it through, his hand yanking Quinn toward the dance floor.
The smug expression on Quinn’s face when he looked over his shoulder told Cade his green-eyed moment hadn’t gone unnoticed. But by the time they reached the dance floor, Quinn led, and he reeled Cade into his arms. Cade ended up flush against Quinn’s broad chest.
“Put your arms around my neck.” Quinn bent to allow Cade to link his hands around Quinn’s neck, then he held Cade against him, his hands on Cade’s ass. “You only dance with me tonight, boy.”
That ‘boy’ made Cade’s heart sing even though he knew it was for show. But, being the brat he was, Cade tossed his head in challenge.
“Just you?”
“Just me. You don’t have permission to dance with anyone else.”
“Do you think you can keep up, old man?”
Cade reveled in the narrow-eyed glare Quinn gave him.
“Do you think I’m an old man?” Quinn demanded. He rolled his hips against Cade who couldn’t miss the hardness against his lower belly. Cade shoved his hips against Quinn, letting Quinn know in no uncertain terms he was just as turned on. Christ, they must look as if they were trying to fuck each other on the dance floor.
The same thought must have occurred to Quinn because he eased back a fraction and bent his head. “Dance with me.” His voice was a deep rumble that went through Cade’s senses and made him shiver.
They danced, and Quinn did more than keep up. He led. And Cade followed willingly. At times men and women approached them, sometimes for Cade, just as often for Quinn, but Quinn declined all offers, making it clear they were exclusive. Cade knew this was all a show to hit the media. But Quinn treated him like they were the only two on the dance floor, and Cade let himself pretend, just for a moment.
They were both dripping in sweat. They drank bottles of water at the booth and returned to the dance floor. Cade stripped off his shirt and tucked it in Quinn’s waistband. Quinn’s eyes darkened as he studied Cade’s smooth, shiny chest and the tiny rings in Cade’s nipples. He licked his lips and God, didn’t that make Cade harder still. He was going to come in his leather pants. He’d done that before. It wasn’t pleasant.
The tempo slowed, and Quinn tugged him in closer. Cade rested his head against Quinn’s chest, inhaling Quinn’s musky scent. He closed his eyes and felt his Daddy hold him close. Just for now, he’d pretend.
Quinn said something, but Cade had been so lost in his thoughts, he missed it.
“What?”
“I need you to kiss me.”
Cade raised his head. That…was an odd way to phrase it. “Kiss you?”
“Strada is here.”
Panic went through Cade and he had to force himself not to wrench away from Quinn. “Where?”
“He’s sitting at the booth next to ours. You’re safe, Cade. There are three men watching his every move. You’re in my arms, and I’m between him and you.”
Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!
“It’s okay, Cade. I’m here to protect you.”
Quinn’s arms tightened around Cade, but his words made Cade feel like he’d thrown an icy bucket of water over him.
Protect him. Right. He was Cade’s bodyguard, not his Daddy. This was all an act.
“Sure, you can kiss me,” Cade muttered.
Quinn narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I said.”
“Fine. I’ll kiss you.”
Cade reached up to give Quinn the briefest of kisses, but Quinn cupped a hand around Cade’s neck and with the other hand cupped his ass, and kissed Cade as if he owned him. Cade felt a tear slip between his lashes. The kiss was so sweet and dominant at the same time. Quinn was telling the whole world that Cade was his, and Cade wanted so much for it to be true.
Quinn raised his head and looked down at him. He brushed away the tear with one finger. “Don’t be frightened.”
How could Cade tell him that at that moment he wasn’t frightened of Eric? He was frightened of wanting more than Quinn could give him. He wanted the whole fairytale, not just this make-believe version.
“Boy.”
Eric.
Cade shivered.
The fairytale had suddenly turned Grimm.
Chapter 8
Quinn
Quinn spotted Strada as soon as he walked in. He’d been on high alert since they left the house, and he wasn’t surprised to get the barked intel in his earpiece that Strada had just entered the premises. Strada strode through the club toward their booth, stopping short to talk to people in the next booth to them.
He didn’t alert Cade, who rested his cheek against Quinn’s chest as they danced. After what felt like hours of dancing, Cade seemed relaxed for the first time that day. Quinn held Cade close. He saw the exact moment Strada spotted Cade. The anger that flooded over his face was hard to miss. Quinn half-expected Strada to rip Cade out of his arms.
The team was in close proximity. Tormac closest with Jace, Ali, and Miles ready if they were needed. Quinn hoped to God Strada wasn’t stupid enough to attempt to assault Cade again. He’d only escaped being locked up through the clever work of his lawyer. He wouldn’t get away with it a second time.
When it looked as if Strada was about to make a move in their direction, he asked Cade to kiss him, repeating it when Cade didn’t hear him. He knew he’d screwed up when Cade got angry, then terrified as he grasped Strada was here. Quinn had never intended for the kiss to be that intense, but he wanted Cade to focus on him and only him. Cade’s mouth was everything he’d imagined it would be, warm, plump lips and a hot mouth he buried his tongue inside. He could just imagine sinking his cock inside the warm, wet channel. The tear on Cade’s cheek when they pulled apart cut him to the quick. He wanted to wrap Cade up in his arms and hide him from the rest of the world.
The, “Boy,” was as unwelcome as the panic on Cade’s face.
Quinn dragged Cade into his arms before he had a chance to turn around. “Focus on me,” he murmured. “You’re my boy, not his. Mine.”
Cade dragged in a shuddery breath and gave the briefest of nods. He turned his head to look at Strada. “Eric.”
“We need to talk, boy.”
Quinn eyed Strada coolly. The man was dressed in a designer suit, and Quinn was suddenly glad they’d decided against that for him this evening. His leathers were far more imposing.
“I’m not your boy. You need to stay away from me,” Cade said coolly.
Only Quinn could feel him shake from fear. Quinn leaned against Cade, using his weight as a kind of comfort blanket.
“Cade—”
Quinn turned Cade so he was behind him and faced Strada. The man didn’t blanch, but from the way his eyes narrowed, he was well aware of what Quinn was doing.
“You need to back off,” Quinn said, his tone icy.