Page 50 of Cage
She turns and looks up at me, her eyebrows pinched. “Why would I hate you? You were given a shit hand in life, and you’ve made the best of it. You have an amazing family, a job that means something, and a beautiful home where you can be yourself. I’m proud of you.”
I don’t remember the last time I cried. Maybe when I was a baby. But those words,I’m proud of you, coming from her, bring me to my knees, and I blink back tears.
Leaning down, I kiss her forehead. “Thanks, firefly,” I say tightly. “Swearing is against the rules.”
She smirks and rolls her eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”
And for the first time, I realize I’m not going to be able to let her go. Physically, maybe, but Ember has a permanent place in my heart. She’s carved out a spot right in the center and has burrowed herself in deep. When she leaves, that hole will be massive and painful. Probably the most painful thing I’ve ever endured. Yet, for her, I’d fucking burn if she asked me to walk through fire.
I might not be able to keep her, but it doesn’t mean I won’t watch over her for the rest of her life. Even if it kills me when she finds the man of her dreams. And it just might. If I don’t kill him first, of course.
17
EMBER
I’m still trying to wrap my mind around everything Cage shared. I want to cry for the little boy who was abandoned. Who had to fight just to survive for so long. I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if Deke hadn’t shown up. I have no idea who the man is, but I kind of want to hug him.
Every time Cage told me what a bad man he was, I wanted to shake him. He has no idea how amazing he is. But I do. Even if I do give him a hard time. It’s not hard to see that Cage is bright. He’s smart in that Sheldon Cooper kind of way. All of the men here are. It’s why they struggle with emotions. They function on logic and facts.
I quirk an eyebrow. “What about Rowie? She’s not like you guys.”
Rowie is smart, there’s no doubt about that, but she’s different than the men. She wears her heart on her sleeve.
“Rowie doesn’t do what we do. She came into this family by accident. We couldn’t leave her where she was. Deke let us keep her and made Theo and me her guardians since we’re the ones who found her.”
“Found her?” I ask hesitantly. I’m not sure I want to know, but at the same time, I do.
“Yeah. Behind a dumpster. She was beaten and bruised and starving. We couldn’t leave her.”
I sniffle and swipe at my eyes. “Poor Rowie. Oh my God. She’s so bubbly and happy.”
Cage stares off into the distance, his gaze unfocused. “She still has her demons. We all do. She’s come a long way, though.”
Needing to be closer to him, I push the covers back and crawl onto his lap. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me and snuggle me into him.
“My problems seem so stupid in comparison,” I whisper.
His grip on me tightens, and then he pulls back, gives me a sharp swat on the butt, and glares at me.
I yelp and reach back to rub the sting away. “Ouchie. You spanked me!”
“That wasn’t a spanking, firefly. It was a warning. If I ever hear you belittling your own demons, I’ll take my belt to your bottom. Do you understand me?”
There isn’t an ounce of give in his stern voice. I shiver and quickly nod, though my core flutters at his scolding. Why do I like it when he talks to me in that tone? Like I’m a naughty Little girl. It shouldn’t turn me on, but my damp panties are proof it does.
“I’m sorry.”
He leans forward until our lips are nearly touching. Heat pools between my legs. When I shift to try and find some kind of relief, the hard length of his cock presses against my bottom. I wiggle again, and his hands flex on my hips, holding me still.
“You really need a spanking,” he growls.
I shrug, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “But I’m such a good girl.”
“Jesus.” He huffs. “Yeah, you’re a good girl. You’re also really fucking naughty sometimes. Which probably means this is a good time to go over your rules.”
My nipples tingle and bud under the thin material of my sleep shirt. There is seriously something wrong with me if I’m getting turned on by the topic of him giving me rules. Maybe I need therapy. Or an orgasm. I like that idea better.
“This is what I’ve written down so far. Read them aloud, and we can discuss them if needed,” he says, handing me a pad of paper that is full of his writing.