by Angel Payne
Hard gulp. Swimming senses. “This—This isn’t the place,” I blurted with trumped-up conviction. “We’re way too fucked up for a quick make-out session in someone’s laundry closet, and we both know it, Mac.”
The forest gained new shadows. The beautiful planes of his rugged face turned the texture of dark concrete—except for the twitch of a smirk at one corner of his firm lips.
“Firstly, I had no intention of being quick.”
He closed the step I’d just taken, actually thinking I could create a buffer between us. We were only inches apart again.
“Secondly, if this is your idea of a closet, I’d better ask for a raise.”
He lifted his hand to the back of my neck, cradling my head in his big palm.
“And…third?” I husked, though the effort was a challenge. Damn, how he affected me. Aroused me. Seared every inch of my bloodstream with the knowledge of his nearness…and my inevitable reaction to it.
“Well.” He wet his lips, making me do the same. “Third is…” He held me captive the entire time he spoke, and his words prodded incessantly at my wounded heart. “You’re right.”
I blinked. “I…am? About what?”
“We’re pretty fucked up right now,” he finally murmured. “But at least we both agree, and at least we’re both still using the word us.”
And now I really and truly couldn’t speak. So I just stared up at him, not even beginning to process everything he’d just said. A raise? Like we’d be buying a home together in the future? And us? Not quick about it? “It” what? My heart throbbed. My body tingled. And worst of all, my head spun like it usually did when this infuriating and sexy bastard was near me.
“Mac…”
“Hmmm?”
His mouth was inches from mine. I fixated on the deep dip in the upper part and how the edges curled up a little. I wanted to trace all those enticing hills and angles. Memorize them. But that would have to wait—because right now, all I wanted to do was kiss him.
Deeply.
Thoroughly.
Not stopping until our tongues were eagerly meshing, our lips were passionately pressing, and our breaths were nearly matching. Hot for hot. Fire for fire. Lust for lust. Nothing had changed. No; it was better. More consuming than I remembered. More primal. More desperate.
More…of everything…
“Taylor. Goddamn.” He rushed it out between feverish pants, but only until I grabbed his hair and hauled him down for a crashing collision. I was a woman possessed, starving for the spice-and-wind taste of him. Thrumming for the steel-and-sin feel of him. Aching for the complete and total dominance of him. “Can…can we go somewhere?” he finally snarled against my lips. “Will you come back to my place?”
I held back a conflicted mewl. Oh, God. The heat of his body and the hopeful desire in his eyes were so damn hard to resist…and nearly impossible to turn down.
“No. I mean, yes,” I stammered. “No. Wait. I mean, not right now. I mean, we just—I just—got here.” I closed my eyes, sealing myself from his gorgeousness so I could wrestle together the might to move away. It was the only way I’d think clearly. “I promised Talia I’d help her with the party. And I haven’t seen the babies yet. And, well. Yeah, no. Not today. But I would like to.” Oh God, would I really like to. “To see you, I mean. If you still want to. To see me, I mean.”
“Oh, Sassy.” He chuckled, his arrogance simultaneously enraging me and stoking my lust. Well, more than it was. Maybe a little more than more. Whatever the hell that level was. “Are you stoned?”
“Fine.” My retort was the same mix of arousal and aggravation. “Fuck off, Clown.” I disengaged fully, whirling to step away, but he grabbed my hand before I could get too far.
“Eloquent as always.” His wink actually did make me feel lit up—not that I was going to let him know that. “Come here. Come here.” He gave in, holding his arms out and curling the tips of his fingers in. I took one step closer, making him meet me halfway. The gesture was necessary for me to see. He did it without hesitation, wrapping me all the way into his embrace, and at once I buried my face in his strong chest. And breathed in his crisp, masculine smell. And let myself sink into the knowledge of his safe, sure hold.
Holy shit, I’d missed him. More than I’d been letting myself admit.
We stood there for a few minutes, simply savoring the contact of each other again, before he finally leaned back, letting me see the taut look on his face.
“What?” I prodded.
“You need to take better care of yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, for—”
“Please. Eat something that’s actually nutritious today.”
“Is that an order, Clown?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Would you listen if it were? You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Eat something other than cereal with a cartoon character on the fucking box. Protein would be a good start.” He folded his arms. “I’m going to get Margaux on my side, and then you’ll be sorry.”
I openly laughed. “Good luck with that, pal. The girl is jealous of this.” I waved my hand up and down the length of my vanishing body, attempting to mask a twinge of my own concern. I knew I’d finally see him at one of these Stone get-togethers, just as I knew he’d give me shit about “nutrition.” But honestly, eating hadn’t been very appealing the past few weeks, and I had lost a few pounds—pounds that probably should’ve stayed right where they were. It would all come back again in no time; I just needed to put some effort into the game.
Similar to the effort Mac was giving me now, as he continued to glare down his strong nose at me. Apparently the man didn’t feel like joking when my well-being was at stake.
“Ease up, chief.” I pushed at the muscled wall of his chest. “It’s fine. I just haven’t been all that hungry. You know very well that I normally have a hearty appetite. Things have been a little stressful lately.”
“Your mom?” His words conveyed sincere concern.
“Nah. I haven’t heard a word from her in two weeks. Not since the night…well, when…”
I drifted off on purpose, realizing the totally awkward vibe I was projecting but refusing to bring up the letter he’d left on my car. The letter. That letter. I couldn’t think of the damn thing without getting angry all over again, and this time was no different.
“Since the night we broke up?” He finished my thought—which pulled the trip wire on my fury.
“Broke up? Mac, this isn’t high school. We weren’t going steady. I wasn’t wearing your letterman’s sweater. Shit. We were fucking. Dating, maybe? Is that what people say in this era? I don’t know. But then you kind of threw that out the window, didn’t you? With the Dear John letter you so gallantly left on Missy? So brave of you to do that, by the way. Thanks for at least tucking it under the wiper so I’d be absolutely sure to get it. Way to face the music in person.”
It all spilled out of me in what sounded like a run-on sentence, the punctuation barely intact. That’s how it all felt inside too. Hot and messy and pushy and rude—a monster clawing to be unleashed. Only in that moment did I realize the creature had been prowling for a while, waiting for the right chance to destroy my composure and roar free.
“Missy?”
“What about her?” I barked.
“Did you rename your 240sx ‘Missy’?”
“Well, the alter-ego thing, remember? Suits her, don’t you think?”
“Of course it does.”
His gentle response, along with the recognition that he truly remembered why I’d been calling my car by a different name, settled my tone by a few octaves. All the while, he kept grinning. Because he got the reference.
Because he got me.
“Don’t try to distract me. I’m pissed at you for leaving that letter there. It was a total ball-less-wonder maneuver.”
He broke out into new laughter, half choking between his answering words. “Ball-less…wonder?”
“What? You want to pr
etend it was courageous to write all that shit in a letter and leave it on my car?” My tone danced on the borderline of bitch, but I didn’t care. I’d been ramping up for this moment for weeks. Each day, every day. Ramping. Readying. For exactly this chance. To take enough of a chunk out of the good doctor so he bled too. So he hurt just as deeply as I had on the night he dropped that soul-crushing letter on me.
“It’s the only way you’d hear me out, Taylor.”
“Hear you out?”
“You heard me. Or did you?”
He was so fucking sane about it. Trying to make the shit sound like…logic.
“Sure.” I spun around and advanced on him, leading the action with my head. I probably looked like a goose on crack, but I didn’t fucking care about that either. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“What?” He spread a smile, so gorgeously benign. And then added his stunning stare, full of such tender adoration that I wasn’t sure whether to slap him or maul him. “Have you ever tried having a serious conversation with you, Taylor?”
I screwed my face up tight. “That’s…absurd.”
“Well, you know what I mean.”
“So it was my fault? Am I hearing you correctly?” I whooshed back, both arms up with my palms facing out. “You really should have texted. Easier, faster, and just as high on the douchebag scale.”
He paled for a moment as my words seemed to finally sink in. After inhaling and then exhaling deeply, he stated, “I’m sorry, then.”
I sputtered. Lovely. Guess it was better than looking like a rehab-ready goose. “You’re…”
“Sorry,” he filled in, clearly meaning it. “Sorry if I handled things wrong. Sorry if my method wasn’t right. I hope you can forgive me for that. But now, I really hope we can work on us”—there was the word again—“because I’ve missed you so much.”
I sucked in a long breath of my own. “You…you have?”
“Yeah.” He stared harder at me. “I’ve realized over the past couple of weeks without you that I want you to be a part of my life. All the ways you make me smile and laugh…and yeah, even rage and go a little nuts…I want all of it, Taylor.” He braced himself directly in front of me, reaching down to wrap both my hands inside his steady, certain grip. “I want to do what it takes for that to happen.”
And finally, he paused again. He just stared down at me with those intense greens, encompassing me in his strong hold and letting me process everything about what he’d said.
His confession was…healing. My fire was cooled, my anger chopped in half. But shit, that meant my resolve was caving. Fast. “I would like that, as well.”
See, Doc? I can be an adult too.
He grinned as if I’d just declared we were truly going to Disneyland. “Okay. So maybe we can make some sort of plan?” The hopeful look on his face returned while he dipped his toe in the still-stormy waters of us. But at least now there was an us.
“Okay,” I answered. “What are you doing next weekend? And don’t think we’re done discussing a certain communiqué.”
“I have my first race at Thermal. Finally.” His tone changed when an idea struck. “Hey! Why don’t you come? The house is finished, and you can stay if you’d like.”
“I’ll text you. I may already have plans.” I was dying to just tell him yes but didn’t want to make it too easy for him. Though he smirked like he already knew that, as well. Glorious, gorgeous, pompous ass.
“Okay.” And yep, there went the supremely self-pleased head nod. “I’m glad I saw you here today,” he said, tucking a kiss to my cheek. “Now go eat. I, regrettably, have to leave. I’m on call and have to go do rounds.”
I paused for a few beats. I didn’t want to see him leaving already, now that we were on some sort of mending trajectory. “Happy Memorial Day, Mac.” I looked directly into his carved, forceful face. I couldn’t believe life was giving me a second chance with this smart-as-hell, sexy-as-fuck man. But was I brave enough to go for it? To make this happen now?
I prayed the answer was yes.
That somewhere deep inside me, yes was really going to happen this time.
“Same to you, Sassy.”
He hugged me again, bussing me on the forehead as we pulled apart. I already missed everything about him. The way my arms felt around him, the way he smelled, the way my heart sped up when he was near me… All of it.
I wanted him so much.
And couldn’t wait to see him again.
I walked back into the house with a stupid smile on my face, almost colliding with three impatient and expectant women. Claire, Margaux, and Talia, my three closest friends in the world, standing with hands on their hips and grins on their lips, all but tapping their red-white-blue-pedicured toes, waiting for every detail about what had just happened behind that closed door.
But honestly, I wasn’t sure I knew myself.
Chapter Two
Mac
Time became the cage that confined me. Something that felt like madness set in as the days dragged on. First there was Tuesday in the clinic and then a dragged-out Wednesday from hell in my office catching up on dictations and paperwork. I welcomed Thursday, as my surgical rotation always sped by. By the time we sutured Mr. Creager’s cranial incision, most of the hospital was quiet for the evening.
There was actually a bounce in my step as I walked through the parking structure, readying to go home. Tomorrow I’d head out to Thermal. On the following day, my perfect Taylor would be back in my arms—and then beneath my body, if fortune chose to smile my way.
Fuck, I missed her. Everything about her. Her silly jokes and the even sillier way she always laughed at them. The look on her face when she thought of something kind to do for someone else but then quickly attempted to cover up the softness in her demeanor with some smart remark. All the things she didn’t think I knew about her. All the things she didn’t even know about herself.
And then there were the more obvious things. All the shit that drove my senses crazy and woke my cock with matching speed—especially when she let me put the pedal to the metal on those urges. Her creamy skin, always smelling like whatever lotion had hit her fancy that week. Her fluffy, fresh-fucked hair that tickled my cheeks when she snuggled against me after I’d screwed her through a few gasping, gorgeous orgasms…
“Shit,” I muttered—after the long, lovesick teenager sigh that escaped my throat. And what of it? If the shoe fits and all that, right? Well, this footwear fit—in all the best ways. I’d fantasized nonstop about having her in every possible way there was. Holding her. Kissing her. Fucking her. Oh yeah—that part especially. We’d more than make up for the time we’d lost over the past month. I was a man on a goddamned mission, and this week had been an agonizing trip to insanity and back due to my rising level of need for Taylor Mathews. I seriously feared I’d completely consume her when we finally reunited.
An irrational fear. The woman could handle it. She could handle me. And she was the one woman I’d ever encountered who deserved my complete conviction about that statement. Not only could she take anything and everything I threw at her, but she also could single-handedly put me in my place at the same time. When necessary. Sometimes it was necessary to put her in her place…
Annnnd that was enough to fire up everything between my legs again.
More than enough.
My cock swelled beneath the thin cotton of my scrubs, and I laughed at the fucker’s painful protest as I hit the car’s ignition, filling the garage with its palpable rumble. Yeah, just what I needed. That sound and a brain full of thoughts about the most exciting, entrancing woman I’d ever met. And not just because of her silky hair, her satin skin, and that body deserving of my full worship. That spitfire and her sassy comebacks… She connected with me deeper than skin, on a real cerebral level. A place most other women left me completely wanting.
Needing.
Jesus, I had it bad.
And was reveling in every incredible second of it.
> When Saturday finally arrived, I was pumped for several reasons. I couldn’t wait to get on the track for my first race since leaving Chicago. Adrenaline surged in my veins from the anticipation of getting behind the wheel and pushing my car to its limits. I had put in a lot of laps since Taylor and I split up, and the turns of the track were second nature now. My little rocket of a car had become an extension of me. I felt confident. Ah, screw it—I felt fucking cocky. A lot of the local guys had their eye on me as the pretty-boy new kid, but they’d learn what was what soon enough. That they should be judging my skill and speed, not my tenure in town.
And if Taylor wore that crazy wraparound dress again, they’d be jealous fucks about that too.
Not that I really gave a crap about what they thought.
Not when I was about to hand out asses on platters—as a warm-up to the real action of the weekend. In all the best ways…
Fuck, I couldn’t wait.
I sent her a quick text last night, telling her I was looking forward to seeing her today and a bid to drive safely on her way out to the desert. I knew she read the message, but in perfect hard-to-get fashion, she’d never sent an actual reply. Not even an emoji.
While gunning the engine as I merged from the 76 to the 15, I cracked a broader grin. The woman had left me with way too much time alone, and my imagination had become a creative and crafty workroom for clever ways to tame her sassy fire. She’d be screaming my name by sundown; I vowed it. My visions of her, under me and on top of me and in other positions with me, meant I’d masturbated more in the past month than most of my teenage years. Well, the monkey was done being spanked. Tonight I’d reclaim what was mine.
My car for the race was in top shape—a stunning Austin Yellow M3. Along with my new crew chief, Ron, I had made a few last-minute adjustments that would hopefully give me an edge on the track. I’d only taken this car on the loop since I’d been living in California, although I brought it with me from Chicago. I just hadn’t found the time to make the modifications necessary from a regular street car to a track-worthy beast until I found myself with unclaimed free time without Taylor. The back seat and all the manufacturer’s niceties were now stripped from the car. Sweet Recaro seats were up front, waiting for me to strap in and go. A passenger seat was installed as well in case Taylor ever wanted to get back in with me. It was always fun to remember the first time I’d taken her out and opened things up. Fuck, she’d been so adorable that day, especially during her little zigzag wobble right after the ride. But especially after we’d come back from dinner that night and I buried my cock inside her during the night race. With her hands bound and her lush lips pleading for me to fuck her…
