C.A.K.E

Casper hugs Arden's half-conscious body closer to his, as he carries her through the museum past the concerned stares of guards and other patrons. He's moving with as much urgency as his latent desire will allow.

He's in no rush to put her down. Her wavy hair bounces with every step, as he tries to keep her head tucked against his chest. She hasn't said another word since she folded like an accordion next to the sculpture.

His primary concern is to get her some help, but that doesn't stop the biological responses triggered by her stunning beauty. He looks down at her hooded eyes and her berry lips. Her mouth is parted like she's about to whisper something, or anticipating a kiss—his kiss.

From this vantage point, he also has a premium view of the cleavage bursting at the small ivory buttons of her cardigan. Distracted by her trembling flesh, he stumbles but manages to right himself.

He adjusts Arden's weight in his arms, firming his grip on her curves. With one hand resting on her ribcage just below the crest of her right breast, and the other somewhere along her upper thigh, he thanks the man upstairs. Casper doesn't know what he did to deserve it, but he damn sure ain't complaining. His fingers sink into her soft skin, enjoying the blessing of her anatomy even through her clothes.

One last set of stairs separates them from the entrance and his car. Each step brings him closer to the realization that in a moment, he'll have to let go of one of God's angels. Now that he's held her, releasing her might as well be a death sentence. So he makes the most of it.

He curls his hands around her, smiling when he detects the bounce of her breast against his palm. Hmm ... minimal padding. That's all her. In his satisfaction, a reflex takes over and he squeezes the roundness in his large hand.

Arden stirs against him. “Casper?”

“Yes,” he asks, ready to do whatever that beautiful voice requests.

“Your hand is on my breast.” She tilts her head back and her eyes shoot open.

There's indignation in her tone, but those pretty brown eyes are telling a different story. They don't mind his roaming fingers, seeming to welcome the touch.

Casper apologizes but doesn't move his hand. The longing in her expression reflects the near ravenous hunger brewing in him. If they weren't in public, he'd do something about it.

He steps through the glass doors of the museum, and onto the sidewalk. Casper, slow to relinquish his front-row seat at Arden's coming out party, sets her down on a nearby bench. He keeps a protective hold on her. One hand stays tucked across her waist, while the other pushes stubborn strands of hair out of her face.

“Are you okay?” Casper strokes her cheek.

“Yes, I'm fine.” She shifts her head away from his gentle hand.

Undeterred, he takes her sweaty palm in his. “You wanna tell me what happened back there?”

“It's Alabama. Heatstroke is going around.” Arden shrugs.

“I'm serious. Are you all right?”

Arden looks at him, her eyes laced with a complicated cocktail of anxiety and longing.

“Just heat exhaustion.” She tries a smile and an uneasy laugh. “I'm fine.”

Her breathing has yet to return to normal, and worry still wrinkles her brow. She's not fine. And no amount of her hollow reassurance is going to convince him otherwise.

Casper hooks an arm behind her back, and the other underneath her knees. “I'm taking you to the emergency room.”

She grabs his arm, preventing him from lifting her. “That's not necessary. Really.”

“Then I'm taking you home.”

He produces keys from the pocket of his slacks and taps a button. The doors of a cherry Bentley Continental GT unlatch with a polished click.

“I can drive myself,” she insists.

A breeze has the audacity to brush past them, without imparting a hint of cooling comfort. The rude gust of air blows Arden's soft hair into her face again.

Casper slips his hand into its depths and smooths it back until his fingers are resting at the nape of her neck. He exerts gentle pressure on her head, making her maintain eye contact with him.

“Emergency room, or my car. Take your pick.”

She dips her head. “Casper—.”

Before she can finish voicing her objection, he reiterates his position.

“The doctor ...” He points to the sleek machine. “Or the Bentley.”

Casper uses his thumb to lift her chin. A smirk and a small sigh accompany her acquiescence. He nods along with her as she states her decision.

“The Bentley.”

He takes her hand and opens the passenger door for her. Dirty things run through his mind, as he watches her settle into the seat and pull her long legs in one at a time. He shuts her door and takes his time getting into the driver's seat.

second to adjust the evidence of how strung out he is over Arden. Slipping into the

Avenue

and plays with her wedding ring. She stares out of the window, angling her body toward the

him. Her position allows him an easy peek at

eyes are on him. She turns her head, and he smiles

reaches for the door

from the quiet interior of his Bentley. She declines his offer to carry her inside. He insists on keeping an arm around her waist, just in case. Just

body relax against his arm. She pushes the elevator button and

save the day has been awakened. She's not going

long hallway that leads to the Stones' front door. Edison

Arden and Elliott are suspended along the walls. Warhol-style selfies of

to the condo, and steps over the threshold. Keeping her eyes on her feet, she

She heads for the kitchen, prepared to play hostess. “Would you like something to

the kitchen cabinets for a glass and pours her

where the amazing Arden

ice-cold glass

home turf. Some risks are just worth taking. He surveys the room. Bright colors dance on the walls and furniture. It's

“It looks like you.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

to

and takes another sip

“Feeling any better?”

“I'm all right now.”

of his hand. Then he puts two fingers to her neck, just underneath the

of her heart, he consults his watch. Arden licks her lips, making him lose

“Do that often?”

what?” she asks, still refusing to look at

shit

glass down on the end table. “I

large windows rather than look at him.

cute turn-up of her nose, coupled with her strong cheekbones and the flare of her soft lips-everything about her. She's beautiful from any angle.

slides his hands underneath her bottom and pulls her toward him until they're

you make a habit

fingers underneath the smooth cashmere. He keeps his eyes on

and falls in quick

blouse. “Good thing, I'm

eyes draw closed and drift

skims his finger over the cup of her bra, his touch within torturous proximity to that chocolate

bites her bottom lip and

stop,” he whispers

clutches at his biceps, as he plants a kiss on

stopping just shy of validating the attraction between them. He's going to let Arden make the final

her own bated respiration, she whispers,

him twice. Just before their lips meet,

away from Casper and tries to make herself decent again. She fiddles with her clothes but isn't making much progress. Her fingers have forgotten how to maneuver the pearl

the moment because he reaches over and fastens the sweater

Arden is still surprised, yet relieved. It's not Eli. The

overpack?” A young man with long limbs and a strong chin pulls suitcases inside and

girl has to have options. I can't possibly know

ninety degrees here almost year-round. I'm sure you could have left the parka,”

Dad will want to go skiing somewhere, or a freak blizzard might blow

to get the attention of the bickering teenagers. “Excuse me. If you two are planning to

faces light up at the sight of her. They

to be the first to get to

wins the race. He hugs Arden, picking her up and spinning her around. Once he sets her on

two

stuff.” He straightens his collar and sticks out

don't wet the bed.” The boy's shorter counterpart with the same blazing red locks and similar features shoves him aside. She wraps her arms around

kisses the girl's forehead. “Hi,

woman peeks around Arden at Casper. “Who's the

man who minutes earlier was about to make her a dishonest