Page 104 of Wanting What's Wrong

Sure, asshole, you just relieved yourself against her like an out of control fourteen year old boy in a fucking bathroom.

I’m gutted that my lack of control could have marred this moment. I hold my breath, the buzz of my climax still lingering as I slip my jacket off and put it on her tiny body.

Then, there’s a knock at the door.

“You okay?” It’s Davis. “Mark and Stephen are here. They’ll walk you out. It’s already out on the socials, man; you should get Lennie out of here.”

“Let’s go home.” I gather Lennie against me, unsure what’s waiting for us on the other side of that door, but knowing, whatever it is, I’ll be the wall between her and everything life throws at us.

For the rest of our lives.

Three

Lennie

What was I thinking?

In my worst disaster yet, I didn’t sign the client or get the thumb drive and almost gave up my virginity in the process. I tried to say no. Then I said yes. I guess. Sort of.

But I didn’t mean it, and I hate what happened, but I’ve never been more grateful for an interruption in my life.

Watching that side of Cade come out always shakes me to the core, but comeon, what happened after?

In the bathroom?

Put me in the tub and douse me with the ice water because I amon fire.

As we work through the chaos outside the bathroom, Cade splits the crowd with sheer force our bodyguards flanking us. The lights from a dozen camera phones leave spots in my vision as he leads me out the front doors and into our waiting limo.

He secures me in the back, buckling my seat belt as he always does, insisting on doing it himself whenever we are in a car together.

His angry, massive body races around the front of the car, then into the seat next to me as my hands shake, holding the front of his tuxedo jacket closed across my chest.

In the tussling and pulling from the bathroom to the front door, Cade made sure my boobs made it back into my bra. I’m a double D, thanks to my mother’s genetics, and I have to say, I’ve never been a huge fan of my curves until I saw the way Cade looked at me in the restroom.

I’m ten kinds of confused as Cade yells for the driver to go, and the limo slides forward, the crowd still recording as we slip away. Cade is stone silent, staring straight ahead at the black divider between us and the driver.

He doesn’t pull out his phone like usual. He’s always on his phone. So many deals to be made. Problems to solve. The only times I’ve seen him raise his voice or be anything other than stoically calm and in control have been when I was in danger somehow.

The first time was soon after we’d moved in with him. The three of us went to Disneyland because my mother loves Disneyland, and she wanted to show off her new happy, blended family with her shiny new super Hollywood-mogul husband.

I noticed Cade watching me the entire day, keeping security on me when I stepped even a few feet away. Growing up as a famous actress’s daughter has its pros and cons. My mom did try her best to keep me on the down low, so to speak, at least until she married Cade. Then, I was on display like I was playing a part in some production decided without my permission.

But that day, the crowds were enormous. It was Spring, and the sun was out. It washot. I do not do well in the heat. I’m not the sturdiest of humans. Something to do with genetics with my light hair and skin. I’m not designated as having albinismbecause I have gray eyes, but heat and sun are not my friends. Mom wanted a drink, so Cade went into the little saloon; and soon after, the crowds started pushing in. Pictures were snapped on phones, autographs requested, and the throng closed in, pushing me out of the circle as the bodyguards focused on Mom.

Two men with pro-paparazzi cameras took note of me standing alone and started snapping away, catcalling, barking out inappropriate questions, trying to get a reaction. My head throbbed from the glaring sun, I looked to my mom, but she was enveloped in fans and loving the attention. The photographers’ shouts attracted more attention, and before I knew it, I was backed up against a knee-high stone wall with a deep pond on the other side.

Everything blurred. I reached out, but there was nothing solid for me to hold and backward I went, slamming against the ground, then rolling into the pond as pictures were taken, video rolling and no one helped.

Except Cade.

His arms looped around me as I sat in the cold, unnaturally blue Disney-pond water. He pulled me out, ensuring I was okay before pummeling the two photographers and other people within arm’s reach.

He got us a permanent ban from Disneyland.

Thank. God.

There were a couple similar incidents over the years where I was in danger of some kind, and he lost his mind. The oddest part is, once I was safe, he went back to his usual cool indifference toward me, leaving me more in love but more confused than ever.

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