“I want all of you.” She locked her hands around my neck.
That’s my girl.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and helped her down. Without another word, we made our way to the front door. I was grateful the lights were on. If not, Lacey might’ve been traumatized. A dark house was one of her triggers—a major fucking trigger. The first time I ever brought her home, the house had been pitch black, and she freaked out to the point where she threw her body into the garage door until she passed out.
Tonight, once she was inside, she went over to a panel near the front door and punched in the security code for the alarm. I didn’t move until the beeps sounded. When we were in the clear, I pinned her to the wall between the door and the window. She slipped her cold, delicate hands into the waist of my jeans. My heart thumped, and so did my dick. I crushed my mouth to hers.
“I need you, Lace. I need every inch of you.” Edging back, I slowly swept my gaze up then down, stopping on her boots. Fuck, I wasn’t going to last a second.
She bit her bottom lip as her green eyes darkened. Her cleavage peeked out from the scoop-neck sweater she wore. Her cheeks flushed red as she erotically dragged a hand down one side of her leg. Tilting her head, she caught in her hand a strand of hair that had slid forward.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to do something about him?” Her long lashes fell, and she gazed pointedly at my crotch.
I closed the tiny distance between us, framing her face in my hands. “If you ever leave me again, I’ll hunt you down.”
“You’ve captured your prey, Maxwell. No sense in making threats when I’m a willing participant.”
I kissed along her smooth cheek until I reached her ear. “You know I don’t want you too willing. I like it when you fight back.”
She bent her neck to one side. “Not tonight,” she breathed. “I’m all yours. Any way you want me.”
I nibbled on her earlobe. “Any way?”
“As long as it involves him,” she said as she pressed her hips into me. “So tell me then.”
“Tell you what, Lace? How I’m going to bury myself deep inside you? How you’ll scream my name again and again? How I’ll kiss and lick your entire body?”
She squirmed, fumbling for my belt.
I reached between us and steadied her hand. “Patience, baby.” I wanted to savor every moment. I wasn’t sure I could. But I had to try. She deserved to be worshiped, and all I wanted was rough, wet, hot, steamy, hair-pulling sex.
“Shower,” she said as if she’d read my mind. She squirmed away from me and darted upstairs.
I tore after her. I barely had one foot on the bottom step when my phone rang. Fuck. I checked the screen. Kelton. I was going to ignore his call before I remembered that the triplets had gone up to visit our mom. “Is Mom okay?” I asked into the phone, my voice breaking as my pulse sped up.
“We just wanted to make sure Lacey got in safely,” Kelton said in a serious tone.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off until I heard Kody ask, in an even deeper tone, “Well? Did she?”
“Yep. Everything is good.” Then Lacey called my name. My gaze drifted up, and I stumbled.
She was posed on the top landing like a model with her hands on her hips, wearing nothing but a ball-squeezing pink thong. She batted her long lashes. “You shouldn’t keep your prey waiting.” Her hand slowly moved over her abs up toward her breasts. When she touched one nipple, my dick pounded for freedom.
I pushed End on my phone then sprinted up the stairs and stopped two steps below her. Perfect height. I sucked in one nipple as she played with the other, moaning.
“The shower is ready,” she said.
She could’ve told me the world was ending. I didn’t want to move from that spot. I was about to rip off her thong when she backed away, pivoted, and tossed a sexy smile over her shoulder before wiggling her beautiful ass as she disappeared into the bathroom.
I shed my clothes as fast as I could. By the time I reached the bathroom, she was already in the shower. Steam swirled around, fogging the mirror and the glass-encased shower. I opened the door and climbed in. She stood under the spray with her head tilted back. I watched, relishing the sight of the water cascading down over her breasts. I followed each drop as it slid lower down her body over her abs to her hips, and my gaze shot up to her face then back down to the tattoo of a polar bear on her hip.
She grasped my hand as she moved out from under the water. “You don’t like it? It’s just a tattoo.”
No, it wasn’t. It was more than that—way fucking more.
“I can’t wear jewelry playing baseball. So I decided I wanted my good luck charm on me at all times.”
I’d given her a polar bear charm for her birthday. But neither the sentiment nor the tat was what had my heart in a frenzy. The letter K was inked on one paw and M on the other. I softly rubbed two fingers over the small, tasteful creature, careful not to hurt her. The area around it was red.
Then I lifted my gaze to find tears in her meadow-green eyes. “I fucking love it.”
“It doesn’t look like you do.” She worried her bottom lip.
I gently brushed my lips over hers. “You’re my unconscious beauty. You’re my whole world, Lacey. I love the tattoo.”
Need rocked my body so fucking hard. I shaped her hips, easing her back until her shoulders touched the tiled wall. Her eyelids slid shut when I pressed against her. All the self-control I’d had earlier vanished.
Tangling my fingers in hers, I raised her arms over her head. My heart pulsed uncontrollably. I kissed her chin and down her smooth neck then back up. I gave both sides equal attention, covering every part of her before I made my way down to her breasts then lower until I reached her tattoo.
She mewed little noises as her body writhed against me.
I smiled against her tat. I fucking loved seeing my initials on her smooth skin and in a place only I would see. I licked it gently. She arched her back, shoving her breasts higher.
“What do you want, Lace?” I whispered, snaking my hands around to the small of her back. “Is it this?” As I kissed my way back up her toned body, I drew her to me, hard to soft, sucking one breast then the other. She tasted like all kinds of sugar, refined and yet raw.
I’d barely released her nipple when she climbed up my body, twining her legs around my waist. I braced my legs as I anchored her against the wall.
“Please, Kade,” she whimpered, digging her delicate fingers into my shoulders.
Rough or gentle? I was torn. I wanted to savor her tropical scent, the honeyed taste of her skin, the heated feeling coursing through my body. She gave me a rush like I got when I skydived—euphoria.
She bit on my ear. A rumble barreled up my chest. She dug her heels into my ass and yanked on my hair. Gentle went out the fucking window. I became a madman. Our slick bodies slid together as she bit my ear hard. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to be inside her. One of the best things about sex with Lacey was that I didn’t have to wear a condom anymore. She was on the pill, and we were both clean. My old man made sure of that. He made all us boys get tested at least once a year.
“I love you,” she said between moans.
Slowly, with her body pinned between me and the tiled wall, I entered her.
She mewled. She was tight and wet as she squeezed her legs harder against me.
“Holy fuck, baby.” I stilled. Breathe, man. I couldn’t lose it so fast.
“Kade.” She rocked forward.
Christ, between the way her body fit perfectly with mine and the way she purred my name, my legs damn near gave out.
The hot water continued to beat down, the sound a whisper, the feeling subtle.
She traced the outline of my mouth with her tongue, biting, sucking, then nipping everywhere except where it was cut. I guided her body as we moved together, making certain I had her secured comfortably.
“He
aven,” I whispered against her lips before plundering my tongue inside the cavern of her mouth, claiming what was mine.
Our rhythm picked up. She held on tightly to my shoulders, her nails scoring my skin. Then her body tensed.
I tugged gently on her hair. “Look at me, baby.” I had to see her beautiful face as she went over the edge.
Holding me prisoner with her lustful gaze, she arched her back slightly. Then a soft moan escaped her as she quivered against me.
My heart rate ramped up, and so did my pace. Her nails dug deeper into me, sending me that much closer to the cliff. She gripped the sides of my waist with her thighs. A tightness grew low in me, and with one last thrust, I exploded.
Goddamn. I held onto her as the tremors wracked my body.
“Amazing,” she finally said, planting kisses all over my face. “So freaking amazing.”
“You are,” I said, trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t believe this woman was all mine.
“Kade?”
“Mm.” I inhaled her female scent again, making sure it was imprinted on my brain.
“The water is freezing.”
Funny, I hadn’t even felt the water turn cold. My mind was still fogged, and my body still burned. I released her gently as she slid down, almost falling.
I steadied her with both hands. “Can you walk?” I wasn’t sure I could.
“My legs.” She hugged herself, teeth chattering. “I need warmth.”
I didn’t. As she went in search of a towel, I stood under the cold shower. The icy droplets felt wonderful. After a couple of minutes, I shut off the water and stepped out.
She had a towel wrapped around her and held one out for me.
“Bed,” I said as I dried off. All the pent-up energy and adrenaline slowly dissipated, and my body was shutting down fast.
“I need to dry my hair. Give me a minute.” She lifted up on her toes and lightly kissed me. “You can get the bed warm for me.”
“Baby, the bed will be hot when you get in it.” That much I was sure of.
Her plump lips split into a smile.
I dried off quickly and made my way across the hall and into her room. I switched on the bedside lamp. Posters of Lacey’s two favorite major league players, Jacoby Ellsbury and Clayton Kershaw, hung over her bed. I pulled back the comforter and slipped in. Sleep threatened, but I wanted to wait for her and enjoy every waking minute I could with her. I’d never liked cuddling until Lacey. For me, the act was too intimate, and before I’d met Lacey, I didn’t do intimate.
The hair dryer droned, lulling me toward sleep. No sooner had I relaxed than a cold naked body curled up against me.
“Hey.” I rotated on my side so we could spoon. “You’re shivering.” I rubbed my hands all over her silky body.
“California was so warm.”
“Tell me more about your visit with the cops.” The other night she’d only told me about the lead then changed the subject. She had a habit of switching topics when she didn’t want to talk about something.
“Do we have to talk about it now?” Her voice began to trail off.
If I pushed her, it would send off alarms, or worse, she might have a panic attack. I pulled her tighter to me. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Get some rest.” After the weekend I’d had, I needed sleep.
“Kade, do you like… my tattoo?” She was fading.
“I love it, baby.” I smoothed a hand over her hair.
“You’re… not freaked out by your initials inked on me, are you?”
“You know my brothers might be.”
“They’ll never see the initials on my hip.” She wiggled her gorgeous ass into my groin.
I’d kill them if they did. Her breathing deepened, and her body melted into mine. I kissed her head. The beautiful creature in my arms was so strong on the outside and so delicate on the inside. She was my strength—my polar bear. I’d bleed for her. I’d break every bone in my body for her. Right there, right then, I vowed I’d give my soul to protect her, even if that meant working for the devil.
Chapter Eight
Kade
I couldn’t sleep. After lying awake for three hours, I decided to get something to drink. My mind was twisting and turning with shit I didn’t want to think about.
I hesitated before I climbed out of bed, making sure Lacey was sound asleep. She was curled up in a fetal position facing me, her eyes moving rapidly, her long brown hair fanned out above her over her pillow. Her breathing was even, and if I weren’t mistaken, she was dreaming of something nice since her luscious lips curled upward.
I slowly got up, threw on my jeans, then padded down to the kitchen. The house was eerily quiet save for the fridge humming. Moonlight sprayed in from a window in the small breakfast area just off the kitchen, allowing me to move around without having to turn on the light. I searched the cabinets adjacent to the fridge and snagged a glass.
I had my hand on the faucet when a bang from the front of the house caused me to drop the glass in the sink. I grabbed a knife from the wooden block, spun around, and carefully made my way out of the kitchen. As I veered into the hall, icy cold air slapped me, practically knocking the wind out of me.
Straight ahead, tree branches swayed in the distance as the sound of leaves rustling filtered into the house. The front door was wide open, the back of it banging against the doorstop.
What the fuck?
We probably hadn’t closed it all the way earlier. With the knife ready to strike, I shuffled forward. I didn’t think it would be necessary to call the cops unless I found signs of an intruder.
I passed the staircase and peeked into the front living room on my way to the front door. After a quick scan, I quietly closed the door and locked it. My heart slammed against my ribs as I darted upstairs, hoping Lacey was still asleep. She wouldn’t handle this well. God, not after the home invasion in California.
I poked my head into her room and relaxed. She was still sleeping soundly. After I checked the three rooms upstairs and every room downstairs, my pulse slowed even more. The garage was my last stop since the house didn’t have a basement. Lacey’s Mustang sat in the far bay. I quickly walked around then went back in. I had to remind myself to talk to Lacey and make sure she switched on the alarm when she was home, although I’d been the last one in and as soon as she’d deactivated the alarm I’d been all over her.
I returned the knife back to the block and rummaged through my mind, wandering around the first floor checking every room again. Maybe the door didn’t latch, and the high winds had blown it open. I scolded myself for being so careless. I’d only had Lacey and sex on the brain. Think with that Mensa brain of yours, Maxwell.
Raking a hand through my hair, I realized I was standing in the middle of her old man’s office. A nightlight glowed from somewhere in the room. Just about every room in the house had a nightlight of sorts for Lacey. Maybe I could find a connection between Robinson and Lorenzino and validate what Pitt had told me. Something to give me some form of assurance Pitt wasn’t blowing smoke up my ass. Not that any of what he’d said would ease my mind.
Music awards hung on the walls. The top of the desk was covered with file folders.
I crossed the carpeted floor to sit in the leather chair behind the desk. I switched on the desk lamp and started opening drawers. The top right one was laden with pens and paperclips. A box of cigars was the only thing inside the second. The last drawer was empty. The remaining three drawers on the left held computer cables and power cords.
I directed my attention to the file folders. The first five contained what appeared to be contracts and letters, all bearing Eko Records’ letterhead. I opened the next one and found a picture of Harrison Lorenzino. Fuck me. I was about to flip it over when a scream tore through the house. I bolted upright. The picture and the folders fell from my hands. Someone was in the house. I sprinted out of the room, up the stairs—taking them two at a time—and into Lacey’s room, where I stopped dead in my tracks.
A ray of moonlight spilled in through a crack in the curtains, shining on the very spot where Lacey was kneeling on the bed, cradling her pillow in her hands, rocking back and forth. “No! No! No!” she screamed. “Please wake up, Mom. Please. You can’t die.”
Tears poured out of her wide-open eyes as her hair stuck to her damp face. I slowly approached her and eased down on the bed.
She continued to rock and cry and shake and breathe heavily in a trance-like state. Then she started petting the pillow as though she was smoothing a hand over someone’s hair, murmuring, “I love you,” over and over again.
I held my breath. Memories of my mom flooded back. She used to wake up with night terrors right after my sister died. My father taught me not to wake her, but to gently place a hand on her or hug her if I could. Night terrors usually occurred shortly after one fell asleep. It didn’t matter. Demons didn’t follow the definition of a night terror. Hell, they made their appearance whenever they wanted to.
I maneuvered myself so that I was sitting in front of her with my legs extended on either side of her, careful not to jar her awake. I got closer and wrapped my arms around her. When I did, she stopped rocking. I rubbed her back and kissed her hair as she snuggled into me.
I repeated over and over in a hushed whisper, “I love the crap out of you, baby. I’m here for you.”
I didn’t know if she could hear me, and if she did if it would help. Shit, but my mantra was definitely helping to calm my nerves. I did love the crap out of her. I’d never loved anyone as strongly as I loved the broken woman in my arms. PTSD was a hard illness to overcome, and I would do anything to help her heal.
As I kept repeating the two lines in a soft tone, my eyes began to burn with tears.
Once her breathing evened out, I removed the pillow from between us and gently tugged her to my chest. I dozed off while I held her, waking again as sunlight replaced the moonlight.
Dare to Dream: The Maxwell Series Page 6
