and slide onto the chaise, resting my Kindle against my bent knees. I skim the darkness, unable to stop searching for signs that Caden might be lurking in the shadows.
I spot nothing.
I narrow my eyes, peering into the darkness.
But I don’t see any movement. I pick up my e-reader and press the button to power it on, ignoring the disappointment in the pit of my stomach.
This anticipation of seeing him, I don’t like it.
Only I don’t know how to stop it either.
I swipe the bottom of the screen, and the book I’ve been reading pops into focus, but I don’t see the words. The black letters blur as Caden fills my overactive mind.
It’s like he’s infecting me, permeating all the corners of my life until I’ve grown to expect him here, around every corner.
Next to me, my phone rings, and I about jump out of my skin. I glance down, and my heart leaps into overdrive as I see Caden’s name filling the display.
I pick it up, doing my very best to regulate my breathing. “Hello?”
“You lookin’ for me, Catarina?” His thick, honeyed voice slides over my skin, and I actually break out in goose bumps.
Not that I’m about to divulge that information. “Taken to stalking, Caden?”
He chuckles. “It’s not stalking if you want it.”
I brush my hair out of my face and again peer into the darkness, searching for him. “Like I don’t have better things to do with my time than wait for you.”
“Want me to come over?” His voice is low, sinful and inviting.
My first reaction is to resist, to fight him and say no—not because that’s what I want, but as a point of pride. So I can pretend he doesn’t affect me as deeply as he does.
But it’s not the truth.
The truth is, I feel like I’d kill to have him sitting next to me.
Talking to me.
Touching me.
“Want me to decide for you?” His tone is teasing, but I know it’s a genuine offer. And I know what he’ll pick.
He doesn’t have the same problem as me. His pride is wrapped up in making me want him, so he’s got plenty to spare at the moment.
I clear my throat. “I’m a grown woman. I can make up my own mind.”
“’Course you can, but it’s easier when I take control over this lust between us, isn’t it?” His words are slow and low, like molasses, hypnotizing me. “You like it when I abdicate you from responsibility, when you can give into your desire and pretend you had nothing to do with it.”
How does he know me so well? He sees inside me, to parts I’d rather keep hidden. My fingers play over the leather of my Kindle case, flitting over the seams as my legs shift from side to side. “Why do you think that?”
“I pay attention.” His answer gives me nothing further, and it frustrates me.
I don’t know what to say, so I fall silent, and there’s nothing but the sound of our breathing over the line—mine light and slightly breathless, his deep and rhythmic.
After a few moments, he asks, “Do you want me to come over?”
If he knows I want him to take control and come over, why is he asking me? Why can’t he do what he knows I want? If he comes over, we’ll go to bed. I’ll finally have him inside me, filling me up. When he’s done with me, my restlessness will be exhausted, and I’ll finally sleep.
My temples pulse with pain, and I realize I’m clenching my jaw. I push a noncommittal response past my lips. “It’s pretty late, and we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”
There’s a beat of silence. “All right then.”
Irritation and disappointment crawl through my body. If he pushes, he knows he’ll win. But why doesn’t he push?
And why can’t I give in? All I need to do is say—come over, Caden—and he’ll be here. That’s all I need to do, yet I cannot force myself to say the words. As much as I want him, they will not come.
“So…” I shift in my seat. “I guess that’s it?”
“It doesn’t have to be, if that’s not what you want.”
I bite my bottom lip.
“I can see you struggling. All you need to do is say the words, Cat. That’s all you need to do.”
My head gives a tiny shake. “I can’t.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning, Catarina.” And with that, he’s gone.
I put down the phone and stare into the darkened corner of the porch