The wetness collecting at the opening of my center can’t be from desire, because then what would that say about me? I just fought for my life. I just lost what could have been a friend. Cade’s touch shouldn’t spark want. I should be running. I should never want the touch of another man again, not after all the men I was forced to take. But then, Cade drops to his knees at my feet and my hands naturally find the top of his head. I hold him there as he holds me against the wall, his lips so close to that dripping part of me…
