by Cherrie Lynn
The iron grip moved from her hips to her ass cheeks as he growled and attacked her neck, sucking hard at a patch of her skin until it tingled and burned. He took over from there, lifting and impaling her so hard and fast their bodies slapped together, and all she could do was throw her head back and ride and let sensation reign. All those new sparks roared into a conflagration she couldn’t battle even if she wanted to, and she let it consume her as she went boneless with the force of her climax. Seth caught her against him, slowing and lengthening his strokes to give her the reprieve she needed while she shuddered and clenched around him.
She could always break him down.
“So fucking wet,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m curious to know just how many times I can make this sweet pussy come all over me.”
Oh God, he could always break her down, too. And he could probably make her come until her heart burst from it.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
“I can’t move,” she whispered into the softness of his hoodie.
“Move, or I’ll move you,” he menaced.
He would; he could throw her around like a rag doll. She enjoyed it sometimes. She loved knowing he was strong and had the ability. But the bite of his fingertips into her over-sensitive flesh right now would be too much. So she managed to rouse her heavy limbs into motion and lift herself away from him, immediately missing the hot press of him against her. She shimmied out of her panties before settling on him again, facing forward, leaning back on his hard chest while—oh God —his fingertips found her clit and drew tantalizing circles around it.
“I told you,” he said into her ear, the rasp of his voice raising the fine hairs there and at her nape. “I told you not to come so fast. You left me behind, and now you’re spent and I’m not. That’s hardly fair, is it?” He eased deeper into her, forcing the breath from her lungs. Then he jerked his knees wider, which jerked her legs wider, giving him all the access that he needed to drive her insane again.
And he was just beginning to move when the unmistakable thump of a closing car door behind them made them both freeze. “Shit!” she cried, jumping off him and snatching up her panties and shorts; thank God her top was still on.
Of course, Seth had the unfortunate task of wrestling his substantial rock-hard cock back into his jeans and actually getting the fly closed, grimacing all the while. A glance out the back windshield showed Macy the sight she’d dreaded: a highway patrolman walking toward their car. While both of them dripped with sweat and reeked of sex. “Shit shit shit! It’s a hi-po.”
Seth only laughed. “Aww, caught with your panties down, you bad girl. Get your sweet ass in the front so I can move.” He gave her a smack on said ass for good measure, and she squeaked before leaping up into the passenger seat and trying in vain to do something with her sex-tousled hair. Seth, wincing with every move, managed to maneuver himself into the driver’s seat just as the officer stepped up to the window. “Cops fucking hate me,” he grumbled, then dutifully rolled it down.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said with a formality that almost made Macy giggle, especially considering his previous words. She managed to restrain herself.
“Is everything all right?”
“Fine. We had a flat, but I just got it fixed. We were about to be on our way.”
The patrolman glanced from Seth to Macy, who gave him a trembling smile. She was trying damn hard to act normal, but it was difficult when she was still in the throes of her wild sexual heat. While her damned husband was turning in an Oscar-worthy performance, calm, cool and collected, his wrist draped casually across the steering wheel.
“Any reason why you’re still sitting here?” Oh fuck. He knew exactly why they were still sitting here.
“Yeah, sorry about that. We were having a discussion.” Seth said. A discussion . Macy looked down at her hands, pulling her lips between her teeth, willing her expression to remain neutral. “We’ll move along.”
“I’ll need to see some ID first.”
He identified them both, questioned them both—Macy assumed to make sure she wasn’t in any danger, which kind of pissed her off—and let them go at last. By then, any remnants of her desire were long dead, her first seduction attempt horribly thwarted.
“Hey, at least you got off,” Seth teased once they were back on the road, reaching over to tickle her behind the neck. “I could still break rocks over here.”
“Sorry,” she said dismally. “That might have put me off road sex for a while.”
“Aw, hell. Don’t say that . You have to live dangerously every once in a while.”
“Yeah, but…how embarrassing.”
“Nah. If we were teenagers and they called your parents, now that would be embarrassing.”
Macy couldn’t help but chuckle. “Can you imagine my daddy getting that phone call?”
“I might arrange a trip out of the country.”
“You and me both.” Her dad had almost caught her and Jared in a compromising position once, but of course Seth wouldn’t want to hear about that. Her parents still loved Jared, too, but they would probably like him a lot less if they knew some of the things Macy knew.
Seth fidgeted uncomfortably, and suddenly she felt bad for him despite her newly made rule. “Poor baby,” she cooed, running her hand up his densely inked arm. “I bet I could be persuaded into fixing it for you.”
To her astonishment, he shook his head. “I’ll save it up for you, darlin’,” he said huskily, grabbing her hand and giving the back of it a kiss. “Get ready.”
A shiver of delight skittered through her. That sounded like it would be well worth waiting for.
Chapter Six
Bad memories swamped Macy as soon as the building came into view. She hadn’t remembered exactly what it looked like, but as soon as she’d seen it, she knew . That was where everything had almost come crashing down. And even though she hadn’t been here in two years, it felt like yesterday when she and Brian had pulled into this parking lot with the intention of surprising Ghost. Macy had gotten the surprise instead when she found him backstage with Raina.
Now she was here again, a similar crowd all around. But Candace was at her side, at least. Her anchor. In the Slaughter’s set was starting in twenty minutes or so, and Macy’s nerves were jumping as if she were the one going on stage.
“Why do you think he likes this?” Macy asked her friend as they lounged near the bar, watching the milling audience. Piercings, tattoos, and multicolored hair were all on display.
“What, performing live?” Candace asked. She looked adorable, her own pink-streaked blond locks in a sloppy updo. She wore ripped jeans and a tiny fitted T-shirt that showcased her own ink, having taken far more advantage of her tattoo artist husband than Macy had of hers. “Probably for the same reason you like to ride horses around barrels as fast as you can.”
Macy had to chuckle. Sometimes before a big race, she felt like she was going to throw up. When Ghost had left her to go backstage an hour or so ago, though, he hadn’t seemed affected at all. “I don’t know,” she told Candace. “I mean, I’m competitive. That’s a race , and I want to win.”
“Maybe it’s the same for him. He needs to feel he’s won over the crowd.”
Maybe. It was just one of the inherent differences between them that would never be bridged, she supposed. And that was fine; it was good for them to have interests outside of each other. Sometimes she feared they burned so bright and hot together they would eventually burn out. It was her worst nightmare. So, yeah, this was healthy. At least she tried to tell herself that, as she watched a guy walk by with tattoos all over his face.
“I’m really trying to assimilate,” she told Candace.
Her friend chuckled, then waved to Brian, who was headed their way after conversing with a few people across the room. Macy had learned the first time they’d come here that Brian somehow had as many friends here as at home, and that some of these people actually made the long drive to Dermam
ania just for him or Ghost to tattoo them. Amazing, really, that they were so well-known. It gave her sense of pride to know that she wore Ghost’s art on her own skin, but she hated that it was always covered by her shirt. Something so beautiful didn’t deserve to be covered all the time, and she wished she had more opportunities to show it off.
“You’re here,” Candace said. “So I know you’re trying to assimilate. And you’re doing great. I know he appreciates it.”
Brian reached them, and Macy gave him an absent smile. “You girls look way too thoughtful,” he remarked, then leaned over the bar to signal the bartender.
“Macy’s feeling out of place,” Candace told him, giving Macy a wink.
“I’ve had like five different dudes ask who the babe talking to Candace is,” he said.
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. Absolute shock when I told them. Most of them were like ‘How’d he manage that ?’”
Well. That made her upset on his behalf. Because he’d managed it pretty damn easily. She’d been putty in his hands from the start.
“They’re just talking shit,” Brian assured her after studying her expression for a moment. “Probably a little terrified I’d tell him they were asking about you.”
She had to laugh at that. Good. She was about to say so, but the crowd parted and she caught a glimpse of a face that killed the words in her throat. Grabbing Candace by the arm, she yanked her friend close and spoke directly into her ear. “Look ahead, a little to the left, and tell me you don’t see what I just saw. Please.”
Frowning, Candace craned her neck, having to stand on tiptoe since she was shorter. Macy watched Candace’s blue eyes wander over the crowd, lock, and then widen. Her hand flew to her mouth, then she pulled Brian closer so she could speak into his ear in turn.
Brian, who had been taking a pull from the beer the bartender had just passed him, nearly spat it out when he saw where Candace was pointing.
It was the only confirmation Macy needed. Her eyes had not deceived her.
Raina was in the building.
But it wasn’t the Raina that Macy remembered, though she could never forget that sneering face after their confrontation outside of Mezzanine Music back home. The confrontation that had pretty much run Raina out of town. Gone were the long multicolored dreadlocks. In their place was a simple, dark, pretty cut that just brushed her bare shoulders. Gone was the dramatic black eye makeup. Instead the stage lights caught on a soft, masterfully applied natural look. In fact, gone was the sneering expression; at the moment, Raina stood with a group of friends, laughing wildly at something.
She looked…
Damn. She looked great . The girl had always been model beautiful, but now she looked practically wholesome on top of it.
But she was still here. Macy didn’t doubt it was because she knew Ghost would be, too.
Glancing over at her friends, Macy caught both Brian and Candace staring worriedly at her. Brian averted his eyes to the stage, but Candace leaned closer. “Are you okay?”
“What do I have to be worried about? Honestly?”
“Nothing, of course, but…a shock is a shock.”
“I’m really not all that shocked. Not that I wanted to see her. I’m simply not surprised.”
“Yeah,” Candace said, sounding annoyingly unconvinced. She surveyed the crowd for another moment, her lips pursed. “You want to know what I think?”
“That she altered her style to what she thinks he’s attracted to now?”
Candace laughed. “You’re scarily intuitive at times.”
“It doesn’t take much intuition. I know how she operates. Do you think she knows he married me?”
“I have no idea.” Candace tugged Brian away from the conversation he was having with the Mohawk-sporting guy next to him and asked him something. He shrugged and said something in return. Candace turned back to Macy. “Brian says he doesn’t know either. I really think she dropped from the face of the earth for a while after you sent her running.”
Macy took a long, long drink from her beer. She was going to need it. On the other hand, though…maybe she didn’t. Alcohol and outrage were never a good combination. “Apparently she didn’t drop far enough.”
“Sorry, girl,” Candace said. “It’ll be fine. We’re just here for Ghost. Ignore her.”
Easier said than done, especially recalling what had happened backstage in this very venue, what Macy had walked in on. Raina had found Seth semiconscious and hurting after a terrible fight with Macy, after the death of his grandmother, when he thought he’d lost everything, and the girl had damn near succeeded in fucking him in his drunken stupor.
At least…Macy hoped that was the full story. It made sense. She didn’t think he would lie to her at such a crucial point in their relationship. Honestly, it wouldn’t change anything now even if she found out otherwise; he was hers, and she was his. Their future was together, and she didn’t doubt that for a moment.
But these were memories she didn’t want to revisit, the very thing she’d warned him about when he first brought this idea up to her. These were feelings she didn’t want invading their happy place. From the very beginning, she’d told him the whole fighting-over-a-man thing was something she’d left behind in middle school. He’d made her do exactly that, though: fight for him. She wasn’t about to do it again, not when he already belonged to her.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to cool the anger brewing in the pit of her stomach. It was ridiculous. It didn’t belong.
She needed to see him.
Candace and Brian followed her when she asked them to, and the bouncer let them backstage—the same guy who’d let Macy and Brian back the night the shit had hit the fan. She remembered every moment of that night as if it were branded on the inside of her forehead, a dark scar that would last until the day she died.
“Why are you even mad?” Candace asked as they entered the dim area that reeked of stale beer and weed. “And don’t deny it, you are seething .”
Macy wouldn’t trade Candace for the world, but sometimes it kind of sucked having a lifelong best friend who knew everything you were thinking without you having to say a word. Macy could fool a lot of people, and had in her lifetime, but she couldn’t fool Candace. “Because I told him this would happen.”
“So surely you were prepared for the possibility? Isn’t that what you just said out there, or was I hearing things?”
“I know what I said,” she shot back.
“Mace,” Brian said, obviously trying to deflect a tiff between them. “Don’t worry about it.”
Macy scanned the faces milling about and spied her husband, black-clad and sinisterly gorgeous. She charged straight toward him, interrupting his conversation with Gus. “I need to tell you something.”
He gave her a long look, then raised an eyebrow at Candace’s and Brian’s concerned faces beyond her. “All right. We only have a few minutes. Come on.” She let him lead her into a room—thank God, not the one in which she’d caught him with Raina—and waited until he shut the door and turned to face her. Good. She needed to see his face.
“She’s here. I saw her.”
Like a hawk, she watched him for anything that might be of concern, any flicker of anything but anger or disgust. He didn’t show much emotion at all, which she supposed was just as well. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for her to go on, but when she didn’t, he gave a small shake of his head as if to clear it. “Okay. So? Macy, you’re the only one who gives a shit about this.”
“You haven’t seen her yet.”
“I don’t care to, either. What the fuck is the big deal?”
“I thought I’d warn you in case you notice her from the stage and completely forget what you’re doing.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because she looks incredible. Absolutely I-hate-the-bitch-and-want-to-slap-her fucking incredible.”
She couldn’t believe it; he burst out laughing . “I’m sorry, but th
at was funny.”
“I’m serious, Seth! If I see you up there, and you see her, and you have even the most remote expression of surprise on your face, I swear to God I’m going to charge through the crowd and pull her out by her fucking perfect hair. Because that is exactly what she wants, to trip you up. So please don’t fall for it.”
“Goddamn, I love you like this.”
“I told you, didn’t I? I knew she would be here.”
“Macy.” He stepped closer, clasping both her hands in his. He brought her left one up between them, so she could plainly see her wedding ring. A lovely, antique set that had once belonged to his grandmother. From the first moment he’d slid it onto her finger, it fit her as if it had been made for her, just like he did.
“See that? I gave this to you . That means your face is the only one that might trip me up onstage. The only one I might see and completely forget what the fuck I’m supposed to be playing, the only one that would stop me in my tracks and make me think, holy shit, that belongs to me. The most beautiful face in the entire room, and the only one I’ll be looking for. It’s been that way since the first time you walked in the shop, and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”
She drew a deep, cleansing breath while everything about him soothed her soul, from the adoration written plainly in his dark, dark brown eyes to the intensity of his words. “I love you,” she said, when nothing else would quite do.
He released her hands to lift both of his to her face, holding her gently while he leaned down to kiss her. “You’re my fucking world. My heart beats for you. Only you.” He searched her face, her eyes, in that devouring way he had that made her feel as if no stone was left unturned in her soul when he was seeking what he needed from her. “Tell me you believe it.”
