Right into one of the melting bowls of ice cream.
Kylie blinked at it, then giggled. "Houston, we have a problem."
"Do we?" he asked, burying his face against her breasts again. "Or are you still on the pill?"
No condom? Her breath rushed out of her at the thought. Cade with a condom was good. Cade without a condom felt . . . intense. So intense. "I'm on the pill, yeah."
"Then, can we . . ." He let his words trail off, his gaze asking the question even as he continued to kiss and nuzzle her breasts.
She nodded, her hands going back to him. She laid back down on the couch, ignoring the fact that the pillows were sliding around a bit with all the moving she and Cade were doing. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Cade over her, and his knees parting her own, his hips settling between hers, and then his cock pressing against her pussy and stroking through her folds, teasing her clit. She moaned.
"My sweet Kylie," Cade told her. "So damn wet for me. God, I love you."
"I love you, too," she told him in a shaky voice.
And then he pushed into her, and she gasped at how big he felt, and how tight she was. She spread her legs wider, and his hips fit between hers perfectly, and they began to move together. Kylie's hips lifted with Cade's thrusts, and before long, the friction was building between her legs, making her cling to him with breathless need, crying out his name as he hammered into her. She came with a wracking cry, and moments later, he came, too. He pushed into her a few times more, their joined bodies wet with mutual pleasure, and then he slid on top of her, all sweaty skin and muscle.
And perfection. Cade was pure, utter perfection. From the dark blond lashes framing his gorgeous eyes to the loose curls now sticking up from his head, to the way he kissed her neck, her arm, her skin, everywhere he could, even though they'd both come.
Perfection.
Her perfection.
"I love you," she told him again. Just because she felt like it. And maybe because she could. Because they were together now, and he wasn't going to hold anything over her, and she'd never be a burden. Unwanted, unneeded burden. Because she realized something as he moved onto his side and curled on the narrow couch with her. Burdens had nothing to do with love. As long as there was love, there would be no resentment, just a desire to help.
Maybe that was what had been missing all along.
Maybe that was why, in Cade's arms, she was no longer afraid.
TWENTY-ONE.
Two weeks later Kylie's hand was clammy in Cade's as they headed into the nightclub. "Are you sure your friends are going to want to meet me?" She asked for what felt like the dozenth time that evening. She'd fussed and worried over dinner, fixing her makeup over and over again even though in his eyes, she was utter perfection. He knew his Kylie had confidence issues, and she was working on them.
He'd just have to keep loving her and making her feel as utterly beautiful as he knew she was. Not that it was a chore, he thought with a grin, giving her hand a squeeze. He'd gladly do so every day for the rest of his life.
Moving Kylie and her Nana Sloane to New York City with him had been one of the happiest weeks he'd ever had. While he wasn't a big fan of Nana Sloane-not after some of the stories Kylie had told him about her childhood-he couldn't help but feel sorry for the frail lady with the confused mind. They'd moved her into one of the best nursing homes Cade could find, and he'd used his name to finagle a discount for Kylie, since she insisted on paying. That was fine with him. She could pay until she was used to him and his money. It was actually kind of refreshing being with someone who didn't give him an expectant look every time the check arrived at a restaurant.
If anything, his Kylie laughed and teased him about his wealth. She'd burst into a fit of giggles when he'd shown her his Manhattan townhouse and the Monet-a real one-above the fireplace. "What, were there no Picassos available when you were decorating?" she teased. "Museum fresh out of Van Goghs?"
He'd tickled her straight into bed for that one.
She'd teased him about the thousand thread-count sheets, too. Were three hundred threads not enough for a billionaire? And she'd poked fun at his marble-tiled bathroom and all the other expensive trappings in his townhouse. Kylie was cheap, she declared, and if she was going to live with him, he was going to eat off-brand groceries and shop at the local Super Saver because no one really needed to spend eighty dollars on a hand towel. He was fine with that. He didn't care if she turned the entire place out with plastic furniture and red Solo drinking cups. Just as long as she was in his arms every night, it was fine. Cade preferred to donate to charities anyhow. Billions of dollars were far too much for one man to have, and he'd told Kylie that once. Her eyes had gleamed so happily that he felt like giving all of his money away.
He didn't, though; he was saving it to spoil his woman whether she wanted it or not.
Like tonight, they'd gone out to one of New York's swankiest restaurants so Cade could show off to Kylie a bit. They'd ordered a moderately priced wine so Kylie wouldn't feel obligated to drink the entire bottle and he didn't let her see the menu so she wouldn't exclaim over the prices. Still, he had a suspicion she was eating on the cheap when she ordered chicken instead of the lobster he had. That was fine. He made her eat a dessert with him anyhow, just so he could lick some of the chocolate off of her decadent, full mouth.
Now it was time for his weekly Brotherhood meeting, and he was bringing Kylie to meet his friends. She didn't know it was a secret society meeting. Actually, most of the secret had gone out of the society once Gretchen had started showing up on a regular basis, and then the other men had one by one started bringing their wives and fiancees around. Last week, Audrey had made a genius suggestion that the men were anxious to implement, and Cade was curious to see the results.
As he led Kylie into the club and down one of the back halls, she ran a finger under her lip, checking her lipstick once more.
"You look fine, love," he told her. "Better than fine. Utterly beautiful." She was, too. Dressed in a tight black sheath that wrapped below her breasts, the dress showed off the exaggerated hourglass of Kylie's lush figure and emphasized her glorious breasts. Her golden hair had been freshly retipped with flame red, and was pulled back from her face into glam waves.
But she gave him an uncertain look. "Won't the others be expecting you to show up with Daphne? After all the history you guys had?"
Was that what was troubling her? Cade smiled, imagining the reactions of the others if he had showed up with Daphne. "I think they'd question my sanity if I'd brought her. No one thinks Daphne and I belong together. And they can't wait to meet you. Really."
"Even Daphne's sisters?" she asked, ever skeptical.
"Especially them," Cade declared. Once she met brash Gretchen and efficient Audrey, she'd realize she was worrying over nothing. Neither one was a bit like Daphne.
Kylie's hand tightened in his again, and he looked over at her. She was staring down the hall, where Hunter's enormous bodyguard stood, guarding the door to the basement.
"I'll get this," he told her, and approached the door. He knew the man recognized him, but they still used the Brotherhood's signal, since he had a guest with him. Two fingers, swept over his shoulder, then resting over his tattoo of the Brotherhood's symbol on his bicep.
The guard nodded and stepped aside.
"Come on, love," Cade told the hesitating Kylie. Wide-eyed, she followed him in.
Down below, he could already hear strains of conversation. Maylee's thick southern drawl was mixed in with Gretchen's louder, more boisterous tones to the right of the stairs. To the left, he could hear Reese smugly announcing his hand of cards. They'd already started without him. That was fine-he knew he and Kylie were late. And as they came down the stairs, he grinned at the changes below.
The men's enormous basement room had been neatly halved. A wall had been erected on one side of the room, and the women's voices could be heard from that newly created room. The walls of the men's room had been painted a dark Kelly green, and inside the new "women's room" he saw the walls were a fresh baby pink. An identical card table with six chairs had been placed in the new room, and he could see the alcohol and refreshments cart in their room, just like in the men's.
They'd given the ladies their own club, so they could quit crashing the men's. Everyone was delighted at the thought.
But before he turned Kylie over to the women, he wanted her to meet the guys. His brothers. So, squeezing her hand to reassure her, he led her down toward the table where the men were seated.
At the sight of them, five chairs scraped back and the men stood. Cade felt proud at the sight of his friends-here were five of the most influential men in the world, and they were standing up to greet Kylie and smiling. Smiling at her, though he noticed Reese had eyed her figure appreciatively. He'd have to knock Reese in the head for that, he thought with good-natured jealousy.
"Boys, this is Kylie. Kylie, these are my brothers."
She gave them a shy, charming smile. "Hello."
"It's very nice to meet you," Logan began, only to be interrupted by a feminine cry.
"They're here," Cade heard Gretchen bellow. "Everyone out! We need to meet the fresh meat."
The women piled into the now-smaller men's card room, and from there, things were a little chaotic for the next half hour. He introduced Kylie to his friends one pair at a time. There was Hunter and Gretchen, who insisted on going first (Gretchen more so than Hunter). He could tell that Kylie felt awkward meeting Gretchen, who looked extremely similar to Daphne, but when Gretchen gave her a bear hug and squealed with delight at meeting "Cade's new boo," he saw Kylie visibly relax. Then, he introduced Kylie to Maylee and Griffin, because Maylee's sweet southern charm made her easy to talk to, and Griffin had unstarched quite a bit since meeting her. Bronte, Logan's new wife, then gave some pithy quote about friendship, and Violet and Jonathan were polite and friendly. Jonathan gave Cade a knowing, approving look at the sight of Kylie. Jonathan knew all about Cade's long-term despair over the Daphne situation, and it was clear he approved that Cade had moved on.
Then, Reese and heavily pregnant Audrey came forward. Kylie did a double take at the sight of Audrey, who held up a hand. "I know. I get that from some people," she said wryly. "We're twins."
"I just . . . Oh." Kylie bit her lip and looked at him helplessly. "It's very nice to meet you."
"You sure?" Audrey said. "It's probably awkward as hell, considering that my sister beaned you with a flowerpot. Cade told us all about it."
"She wasn't in the right frame of mind," Kylie said, her voice gentle. "I don't hold it against her."
"Which is why you're a better person than me," Audrey said, and patted her belly. "Can we all sit down now? My back is killing me."
"Of course," Cade said, and rushed into the ladies' side of the basement to get Audrey's chair for her.
The women headed back into their room, all chattering. Maylee had already linked arms with Kylie's and was exclaiming over her hair and makeup, and Gretchen was talking up a storm. Kylie was still smiling, but it wasn't the helpless, unsure smile. She looked at ease.
"Thanks for bringing her, Cade." Audrey said as she settled into her chair. "I'm so glad to see you settled and happy. I almost thought Daphne was going to keep you miserable and strung along for the rest of your life."
"I almost thought that, too," Cade admitted. "Then I met Kylie, and everything changed overnight."
Audrey's expression softened, and she smiled. "Just like me and Reese."
"Just like," he agreed, grinning. He moved to the far side of the table and gave Kylie-who was now wedged in between Maylee and Gretchen-a kiss. "Will you be all right? Can I get you anything?"
"She's fine," Gretchen said, waving a hand at him. "Quit being a helicopter boyfriend."
Kylie stifled a grin. "I am fine. Thank you, love." She beamed up at him. "Go and have fun."
"All right," Audrey said as he exited the room. "First order of the Ladies Club-changing the color of this room."
"Hear hear," Gretchen said. "Who the hell decided pink?"
Chuckling, Cade shut the door behind them.
"A ladies club is genius," Griffin said as Cade sat in his customary chair between Reese and Jonathan. "I always felt bad leaving Maylee at home, knowing I'd be out late with the boys."
"And now we can finally play cards in peace," Jonathan agreed.
Just then, a raucous shout arose from the women's room. "Bras off if you lose," Gretchen shouted. "Ante up, bitches!"
Silence.
Reese raised an eyebrow to Jonathan. "You were saying?"
Cade just grinned. He had a sneaky feeling that Kylie was going to get along just fine with the other women. "We should play, too."
"Speaking of bras," Reese began. "May I just say on behalf of all of us, that you made the obvious choice, Cade?" Reese gestured in front of his chest, clearly referring to Kylie's assets. "I mean, damn. I thought Audrey had some impressive tatas, but you got a good one there, buddy."
"I'm glad you remembered that she's mine," Cade said, pulling his chips toward his spot with one arm. "Because now I don't have to kill you."
Logan tossed his ante into the pile and then lifted his glass. "Someone pour Cade a drink so we can start this meeting, already."
A shot of whiskey was set before him a moment later, and all the men raised their glasses, some drinking water, some alcohol. They clinked them together and said the motto that had gotten them through college, through years of hard work and financial success . . . and now, love. The motto had made them who they were today. "Fratres in prosperitum," they chanted.
Looking around the table, Cade had never felt closer to his Brotherhood.
Life was good. Life was very, very good.
EPILOGUE.
Six months later.
"Oh my God, would you quit squirming?" Kylie exclaimed as she leaned in to add more glitter to eyelids. "It's impossible for you to sit still, isn't it?"
The man sitting in the chair pouted. It looked rather funny, given that he was wearing a pink feather boa and mile-high heels. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Kylie said with a grin. "Just stop freaking wiggling and hold still so I can draw your eyes."
Obediently, the drag queen closed his eyes and leaned forward. "Just glitter me up and let's get this show going."
Several minutes later, she'd transformed the dark-haired lithe young man with the five o'clock shadow into his stage persona. They were trying a new type of eye makeup tonight, and Kylie saw with approval that it looked great on Carl, aka Carla the French. "I like it. What do you think?"
He opened his eyes with a dramatic flutter of his sweeping lashes, then looked critically in the mirror. "Needs more glitter."
She studied him, then nodded, dipping her brush into the paint. "More glitter it is."
Kylie had been working a popular drag show Off Broadway for the last two months, and she had to admit that she absolutely loved it. There was not an audience more appreciative of makeup than drag queens, she mused as she added more glitter to Carla the French's eyelids. It was a bit like coming home. They loved her makeup, loved her, and loved to experiment with new and dramatic looks, which Kylie also adored. The men were pretty fricking fantastic, too: funny and sweet and no one had thrown a flowerpot at her head. Nothing like her last job, Kylie thought with amusement.
She finished and leaned back for Carl/Carla to inspect. He peered in the mirror and then nodded. "Good job, babe."
"Thanks." She felt a bit like preening. "Go out there and wow them."
"I always do," Carla the French said, getting up with a flourish of pink boa.
Kylie grinned and began to tidy her station. She could put away her things and leave for the evening now that the makeup was done, though she always left extra cosmetic sponges and makeup remover for the men once they finished the show. The stuff they'd been using in the past was crap, and Kylie was particular about her canvases, and the men definitely qualified as canvases.
She was just putting away the last of her bottles when someone knocked at the makeup room door. "Knock knock," said Tessa, the stage manager. "You have visitors."
When Kylie looked up, she sucked in a breath.
There, in the doorway with a stranger at her side, was Daphne Petty, global superstar.
The last six months had been rough for Daphne. Kylie hadn't seen her, but she knew from Cade's reports that rehab was an uphill climb, and the tabloids had been crawling all over her, determined to be the ones to catch her when she slipped. Then, she'd left rehab three months ago and put on weight, and the tabloids had gleefully reported that, too. There wasn't a day that Daphne wasn't in the tabloids in some negative fashion or another.
But . . . she looked really damn good.
Daphne had put on at least twenty pounds from when Kylie had last seen her. Maybe thirty. The hollows were gone from her face, and she looked more like her twin, Audrey, now. She wore a brown wig with a thick fringe of bangs, and her skin was clear of makeup. Her figure was no longer twig-thin, but had curves to it. She wore a plain black sweater and a pair of jeans, and gave Kylie an awkward smile. "Hey there. Long time no see."