Leave Me Breathless

by Cherrie Lynn

  Chanting his name and loving how it sounded on her tongue, she rippled and constricted around him again. His fingers dented into her flesh hard enough to bruise as he jerked her against him one final time…and left her. Cool air circulated over her overheated flesh in his absence. He growled several curses as he came on her back. Exhausted, whimpering, she collapsed fully to the mattress. He followed, seemingly mindless of the mess between them, and she welcomed his weight on her. His breath gusted against her ear. His heart galloped against her back, and he trembled as hard as she did.

  She didn’t think she ever wanted to move again. Mmm, yes, she could stay like this from now on.

  “You’re just going to leave me too,” he said, the words practically a hiss in her ear, but laced with so much despair that shock reverberated through her.

  “Seth, I’m not—” He rolled off her and left the bed. Somehow she found the strength to lift her head and watch him stalk toward the bathroom, hitching up his jeans as he went. “Listen to me.”

  He didn’t. Any further words tangled in her throat and ice settled where the ashes of her heart had been as he slammed the door.

  Bastard. Dirty effing unbelievable bastard.

  Fucking stupid, stupid. Ghost was even more pissed at his wayward dick than the woman out there in the bed. Goddamn, his head hurt, and the bathroom light was like a knife slicing deeper into his brain with every thought. He didn’t know how he’d had enough blood in his nether regions to sustain wood; every drop seemed to be converged right behind his eyes. It throbbed with every beat of his heart, which had yet to slow. But instead of exertion, it now pounded in fury. At himself. At everything.

  A glance at the mirror revealed he looked like hammered shit. Macy hadn’t really been able to see what she was fucking or she might have shoved him off. He looked wasted. He guessed he still was. Staring at his reflection, he wanted to put a fist through it, watch his own face shatter like everything else in his fucking life.

  Sighing, he spared the mirror and his knuckles, splashed cold water on his face and contemplated a shower. Her warm, sugary vanilla scent was still all over him, and if he didn’t get it off, he might tear into that room and have a repeat. Shit. He’d gone raw in her too. Fucking drunken sex-fogged brain. At least he’d had the presence of mind to pull out; now he’d just hope to hell it was enough. He wasn’t worried about diseases—she took care of herself and so did he—but after the catastrophe with Raina, he’d vowed never to let that sneak up on him again.

  Macy had felt so good the mere thought of her wrapped around him was enough to stir interest despite everything they’d just done. So wet, so soft, so perfect.

  He really needed to get out of here before he made a colossal ass of himself, even more so than he had already. He’d been an idiot for coming back and not going somewhere else to get trashed. Now he was trapped in the bathroom with no escape that didn’t involve facing her down.

  Smooth move, asshole. Now what?

  That shower might be a good stalling technique. Cold. He’d never have thought he would need a cold shower after such furious sex. After that display, he needed an ice pack. He was sore, raw. Any other time, he’d be damn proud of himself.

  Discarding his jeans, he realized his cell phone was in the pocket. The time read 5:07 a.m. Brian had tried to call once and had texted only a couple hours ago. Yeah, he’d unloaded on Brian right after the fight; he’d had so much furious energy he hadn’t known where to channel it. Dude, Candace didn’t know anything about this, either. I think you’re overreacting. Call if you need me, I don’t care what time.

  Ghost smirked as he left the phone on the counter and cranked on the water in the shower. Brian always texted with perfect grammar. What would his best friend think if he told him he’d just had the best bang of his life, and he was hiding out in the bathroom like a virgin on prom night?

  And maybe he was overreacting, but hell. Jared fucking Stanton sounded like a prize catch for someone like her. She should go ride off into the sunset with her cowboy and forget all about him. Here he’d been trying to urge her back into racing…and he’d only pushed her toward her waiting ex. Yeah, you’re welcome, asshole. He vaguely remembered getting a look at the guy’s face, seeing and hearing enough to know he was a cocky prick.

  She might’ve blown the guy off this time, but there was always next time.

  Clear your head. That was all he needed to do. He’d woken up with anger and grief warring inside his fuzzy head and an intense hard-on…and Macy’s soft, sweet body nestled beside him. A catastrophic combination. For the first few minutes, he’d thought he was having the hottest damn wet dream of his life.

  In the end, it didn’t matter whether he was overreacting or not. This was only proof that he needed to quit thinking with his dick, get his ass back to Oklahoma and keep it there as long as he needed to. Get her out of his head.

  The shower spray hit him, but it didn’t bring clarity. It didn’t make the decision he’d just come to any easier to swallow. He stood with his hands braced against the wall, letting the water stream down his back. When the shower curtain flung open, he really wasn’t surprised—what did shock the hell out of him was the lack of a verbal lashing from the fuming girl on the other side. Macy stepped into the tub with him without a single word, her hair pinned sloppily atop her head, her face and chest flushed blotchy red.

  He moved out of her way. Without meeting his eyes, without behaving as if he were there at all, she soaped up and rinsed, while he clenched both fists, repressing the need to put her against the wall and get some words out of that delectable mouth. Even something Raina-esque, like I hate you, you vile motherfucker would have made him feel better than her icy silence. But he didn’t deserve to feel better.

  She slapped him in the chest with her washcloth and stepped out.

  Oh, fuck this. He opened his mouth to speak, to call her back, to get her to curse his name, anything…and his phone buzzed to ringing life on the counter. Macy walked out, shutting the door behind her as he damn near broke his neck getting to his phone.

  Stephanie. God knew the last time he’d gotten a call from her at this hour, it hadn’t been good news.

  “Steph?” he answered—more like croaked.

  The briefest silence…and then his sister’s sniveling voice. “Where are you?”

  “I’m—fuck, Stephanie, what is it?”

  “The hospital just called. Nana had another stroke.” She took a shuddering breath. “Seth…we lost her.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Macy? Are you all right?”

  Macy snapped to attention, realizing she’d been staring blindly at her keyboard for the past several minutes. If she didn’t stop slacking off at work, her own parents were going to fire her.

  She looked up and smiled at Carla, who stood in the doorway of her office. “Fine, thanks. Just a little preoccupied. Come in.”

  Carla went over inventory with her, all business as usual, but she kept giving her odd looks. Damn. She had to snap out of this funk. It had been three weeks already since her and Seth’s disastrous getaway, three weeks since he’d emerged from the bathroom, told her in a shaking voice his grandmother was gone…and then pretty much ignored all her consolation efforts as he shoved clothes in his bag and stalked out.

  Now she guessed his not being there when it happened was her fault too. Candace and Brian had driven up for the funeral. Macy hadn’t dared, hadn’t thought she was wanted. They’d told her it was a nightmare; Seth and his brother had exchanged words after the service, and Brian had to come between them once. Nothing like a funeral to bring all the family drama to the forefront.

  She should’ve been able to be there for him through all that. She would’ve been, if he’d let her. He was still in Oklahoma, helping to pack up his grandmother’s house.

  After work, she couldn’t face the idea of staring mindlessly at the wall or the TV. Her life had become like a country song—now all those mournful lyrics ma
de more sense than ever before. She found herself driving to Dermamania, where at least her best friend would be there to cheer her up. Maybe Candace could leave early, they could collect Sam and have a girls’ pity-party night.

  A chorus of greetings went up as she walked in, and she tried not to let her eyes be instantly drawn to Seth’s sadly empty station. Candace came forward and gave her the usual hug, holding on a little longer than she normally did.

  “How’s it going?” Brian asked, tilting his chin up at her from behind the counter. They seemed to be having a lull in business, but then, it was Monday night. Probably not the most hopping night of the week at a tattoo parlor. Starla had a client she was chattering with as she inked the girl’s shoulder blade, but that was it.

  “Fine,” Macy said, hearing the lie in that one word. “Can I talk to you guys for a minute?”

  “Sure.” Brian motioned her back. Macy and Candace followed him to his office. He closed the door behind them and leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms and sharing a little grin with Candace.

  Wow, flashback. Only, when the three of them had come to this very room to discuss what Macy knew about the parlor’s vandalism almost a year ago, Candace and Brian had been the heartbroken ones staring sorrowfully at each other.

  Macy hadn’t wanted to fix that, not really. She’d thought they were no good together, that her best friend was really screwing up by getting mixed up with this guy. She and Seth had hung out one time at that point, shared some laughs, but she’d generally had the same feeling about him, despite her raging hormones. She’d thought he was much like Brian: hot, funny, very bad news.

  Showed how adept she was at standing by her convictions.

  “How is he?” she blurted, interrupting the minor flirtation going on before her eyes and knowing she didn’t need to identify who she meant.

  “He’s in pretty bad shape,” Brian said, face going solemn. “But the stupid son of a bitch is driving down to Austin tonight to play his band’s gig.”

  Was he insane? “What—are you serious? What is he thinking?”

  “I tried my damnedest to talk him out of it. In fact, I was thinking of driving over myself, just to make sure he’s all right.”

  Candace suddenly sat ramrod straight in her chair, looking earnestly into Macy’s eyes. “Go with him.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t. I have work tomorrow.”

  “Hey, that’s the perk of being the boss, right?” Brian grinned at her. “Really, I hadn’t made up my mind whether to go or not. But I will if you want to.”

  Her stomach practically churned with indecision. After the way he’d behaved, she shouldn’t give a crap what happened to him. The fact remained that she did, though, and she couldn’t deny it.

  First instincts were usually correct, right? Her first instinct was screaming at her to go. “It would probably be a wasted trip. I doubt he wants to see me.”

  “I kinda swore this was off the record at the time of disclosure, but…I can pretty much guarantee that he does. He knows he was out of line.”

  Well, that was the first step. Candace was grinning like a goon. “What about you?” Macy asked her. “You’d be coming too, right?”

  “Can’t. I have an exam tomorrow. A sadistic one.”

  Brian scoffed. “You know you’ll ace it.”

  “Yeah, but it’s an eight a.m. class. What the hell was I thinking taking an eight a.m. class?”

  “I asked you that when you signed up,” he chided.

  “Oh well, it’s almost over anyway. But if not for that, I’d go.”

  Macy shifted from one foot to the other. God, would the craziness and the drama and the road trips ever stop? “Are you really okay with this?” she asked her friend.

  “With you gallivanting off with my boyfriend?” Candace laughed. “I know I don’t have anything to worry about.” She shared a sickeningly loving stare with said boyfriend. Macy was getting ready to step between them when Brian finally tore his gaze away and checked his watch.

  “We’d better jet, then. I doubt we’ll even catch the set at this point.”

  “I don’t…I don’t even know what to say. To him or you guys.”

  “Aw, we love you, Macy, and we love him too,” Candace said. “You both are miserable. We’ve got to give it one more shot.”

  “I don’t know when he’s coming back,” Brian put in. “This might be your only chance to catch him for who knows how long, unless you want to drive to Oklahoma again.”

  “He was…so mad at me, and I don’t think he had a good reason to be. I mean, I should never speak to him again after…well, some really ugly things happened that I don’t feel like I deserved.”

  “Hey, it’s up to you,” Brian said. “The offer’s there if you want it. If not, then I’ll go out front and get back to work.”

  “Come on, Macy,” Candace urged, practically bouncing.

  Maybe he would talk to her now; maybe he would listen. That’s all tonight would be about. They’d each get their grievances out there, and see where it went. She had a lot to say to him; the heaviness of those words had sat in her chest for weeks and more were added every day as she turned the situation over in her mind. If nothing else, she would be able to get them out, even if he stood there like a brick wall while she flung them.

  She looked up at Brian. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  “You look like shit, bro!”

  The shout rang out the moment Ghost trudged into the back hallway of Crossbones, and he shot Gus the finger for being so kind as to point it out. Yeah, that was the way everyone wanted to be greeted. “Look like shit, feel like shit, in a world of shit,” he grumbled.

  Gus grinned. “I’ve got something for that.”

  “Naw, man. Where’s my guitar?”

  “C’mon, I’ll show ya. Gotta get warmed up myself.”

  “Thanks for bringing it.” He always felt like a fucking giant walking next to the much-shorter Gus.

  “No problem.” As the other guitarist prattled on about the drama going on in his life—and never once addressed the drama and loss overshadowing Ghost’s—there was a moment when he wanted to turn on his heel and go the hell back to where he’d come from. But what for? Nana’s business was handled, and he’d been a leech on Stephanie for long enough, even though she swore she loved him being there.

  So he’d packed all his shit into his car before leaving the Oklahoma City suburb, resolving to go back home after tonight. Brian needed him. Of course, helping Brian carried a high probability of coming face-to-face with Macy at some point, and wasn’t that a grand clusterfuck. But it was one that needed to be sorted out, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

  Even through all the grief over his grandmother, there had been no clearing his head of that girl. She was fully entrenched, and he’d come to terms with that.

  Gus was in the middle of a cuss-binge about his ex-girlfriend when the unmistakable sound of Raina’s warm-up growls reached Ghost from some indeterminable point up ahead, stopping him in his tracks. Gus looked at him, cocking an eyebrow.

  “What is it, man?”

  “What the hell is she doing here?”

  The other guy shrugged. “Mark told her to come.”

  He was going to knock the son of a bitch out.

  “Come on, dude. What’s the big deal? She’s just going to do a few songs with us.”

  “It’s the fact that she’s here at all. I don’t want to be dodging her crazy ass all night.”

  Gus scoffed. “So don’t. Maybe if you hit that a couple times for old times’ sake, you’d feel better. Hell, I would.”

  “Shit, no.” On top of everything else, he didn’t need Raina in his face. He looked longingly back at the exit, sighed and ran a hand over his head. There was only one thing that would make this night tolerable. Oblivion. And knocking Mark out. “I changed my mind. Point me to the Jäger. And what else have you got?”

  A grin lit up his so-called friend’s face. It wasn’t a prett
y sight, more like the way the serpent might have smiled when Eve bit the apple. “Follow me.”

  Hauling ass toward Austin for a heavy metal gig with her best friend’s boyfriend. While this was a place Macy could honestly say she never thought she’d be, it was every bit as awkward as she would’ve imagined.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said at last, realizing she had almost chewed her thumbnail to the quick.

  “The things we do for love, right?” Brian said.

  If only she knew that’s what this was. She knew how she felt, but she wasn’t foolish enough anymore to call it love when she had no idea if it was reciprocated. “I wonder if maybe I should’ve thought this out a little more.”

  “Sometimes the spontaneous decision is the right one.”

  “I guess so. He really wants to see me, then? You didn’t just say that?”

  He cut her a glance beneath his black ball cap. “Like I’d let you walk into that. Come on. He’s more worried that you’ll never want to see him again.”

  “I never meant to drag you and Candace into this. That was exactly what I didn’t want.” And one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted to get into this whole thing to start with. No matter, though. She was in it. She was in it up to her eyeballs.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “He doesn’t know we’re coming?”

  “Not at the moment. Do you want him to?”

  She remembered that night at his house, staying awake until the sun came up, talking and laughing and arguing and having earth-shattering sex. How earnestly he’d talked about his music and how much she could tell he would’ve liked her to be there for his show. Brian had said they would probably be too late to catch the set, but if Seth still wanted her, she’d come to every damn gig he had from now on to make up for it.