Rock Chick Reckoning

by Ashley, Kristen

  But Mace and I still needed to talk and we were going to do it.

  I jumped out of the shower, toweled down, wrapped the towel around my hair, put on my robe and hightailed it out of the bathroom just as I heard Juno and Mace return.

  Mace was activating the alarm when I left the bathroom. I ignored him and moved quickly toward my dresser, seeing to priorities (as in, getting dressed). I had a pair of sky-blue lace hipsters in my hand when I heard him approach. I was about to bend over and put them on when I saw his hand come around me, he snatched the panties from my fingers and tossed them on my chair.

  I whirled around. “What are you doing?”

  I didn’t need to ask. I knew what he was doing.

  He grinned, his hand coming up to yank the towel from my hair.

  I planted my hands on my hips and tossed my head to get my hair out of my face as he threw the towel in the direction of my panties.

  “Mace, what are you doing?” I repeated.

  “Gonna fuck you, babe.”

  Oh dear.

  He had that look about him, that look I liked, that look that turned me on.

  That look that said he was, indeed, gonna fuck me.

  Nope.

  Unh-unh.

  No way.

  I stood my ground, hands on hips.

  “No, you’re not. We have to talk. We have a lot of talking to do and we’re going to do it. Now.”

  Mace moved around me and I had to pivot to stay facing him.

  Suddenly, he stopped and then started walking forward. As I was in front of him, I had no choice but to walk back.

  I put a hand to his chest. “Stop. Listen to me –”

  He didn’t stop and he was clearly not listening to me.

  His hands came to my waist right before I would have fallen down the stairs. He lifted me and I was forced to throw my arms around his shoulders.

  “Seriously, Mace. This isn’t gonna happen. I’m too tired and we have a lot to talk about. We need to talk about it.”

  “Seriously, Kitten, this is gonna happen. We can talk later,” he returned and put me on my feet beside the bed.

  I did the hands on hips thing again.

  “You’re beginning to piss me off,” I informed him.

  He put a hand in my belly and gave me a shove, gentle enough not to be rough, rough enough to send me flying.

  I bounced on the bed and tried to whirl but he got hold of my ankles and twisted me back. Then he pulled my legs wide and came down on top of me, his hips sliding between my legs, his jeans rubbing against the insides of my thighs.

  I had to admit, I liked that.

  Like, a lot.

  “Mace!” I shouted.

  His mouth came to my neck as his hands started moving on my body. They felt nice, warm and strong.

  Effing hell!

  “You gonna yell through this or what?” he asked my neck.

  “Yes,” I snapped.

  “That’ll be new,” he muttered and then I felt his tongue behind my ear.

  That felt nice too.

  Hello? Inner Mace Slut? Take a hike! We have talking to do, we have to get our head together, we have to get our life back into our control, my brain reminded me.

  I turned my head to disengage Mace’s mouth from my neck.

  “Honestly, Mace –” I started to say but he lifted his head and looked in my eyes as his fingers slid into the wet hair on either side of my face.

  I saw his eyes were alert, energized, aroused.

  It was then I knew he was gonna fuck me.

  I knew this because I wanted him to fuck me.

  Like, a lot.

  Oh screw it.

  * * * * *

  Just for your information, I will mention that I could swear he looked like he was about ready to laugh right before I lifted my head to kiss him.

  * * * * *

  “Babe.”

  When I heard Mace’s voice, I opened my eyes and stared at the wall. It was light outside and I suspected it was late morning.

  I felt delicious, cozy and relaxed. I could feel Mace’s hard body behind me, his arm around my waist, his face in my hair.

  I loved waking up to a bed warm with Mace. It was one of the seven hundred twenty-five thousand things I missed about him.

  Shitsofuckit!

  I’d done it again. I’d had sex with Mace. I’d let him spend the night with me. I’d even let him (mostly) move in with me!

  What was I doing?

  Mace’s arm tightened and his body got closer.

  “Stella, wake up.” I felt his deep voice rumble against the back of my neck making goose bumps rise along my skin.

  “I’m awake,” I told him.

  His arm tightened further, wrapping around my belly and he kissed my neck.

  “It’s late. Sorry to wake you up but I got shit to do.”

  I thought this was good. Mace having shit to do meant I’d have time to think, to plan, to get my head together.

  “Okay,” I replied.

  He nuzzled my hair with his nose but other than that, he didn’t move.

  When his not moving lasted more than a few seconds, I called, “Erm, Mace?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You have shit to do,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah,” he answered but still didn’t move.

  “Well, are you gonna do it?” I asked.

  “I thought you wanted to talk.”

  Oh, right.

  I wanted to talk.

  This was true, I wanted to talk.

  And something about him reminding me I wanted to talk and giving me that opportunity even though he had “shit to do” made me feel even cozier and more relaxed.

  However, in the cold light of day but waking up in bed with warm Mace, I forgot what I wanted to talk about.

  I searched my foggy brain for clues as to what I wanted to talk about when Mace’s arm moved, his hand splayed on my midriff, his body slid away and he pushed me to my back.

  He leaned in, the front of his body pressed against my side; he got up on his elbow and looked down at me. His green eyes were warm and alert and I remembered again how much I liked the look of Mace first thing in the morning.

  As I looked into his eyes, my brain still foggy, still feeling cozy and relaxed, my thoughts on Mace’s eyes (then they careened off in the direction of about seven thousand of the seven hundred twenty-five thousand other things about Mace I liked), he looked into mine. This lasted for a beat that turned into two then three then his mouth moved and he looked like he was fighting a smile.

  “Kitten, I don’t have all day,” he told me and my head jerked, pulling me out of my Mace Happy Thoughts Reverie.

  Shit!

  Okay.

  Concentrate.

  The Talk with Mace…

  It came to me.

  “You’re screwing with my head,” I informed him and there was no doubt about it and I had the last five minutes as evidence. He was definitely screwing with my head.

  His reply was instantaneous. “Yeah. And?”

  I blinked with surprise at his ready answer.

  Then I stared.

  He didn’t even try to deny it.

  All fogginess left me and my mind became clear. I did an ab curl to sitting position, dislodging his body and twisted to face him.

  “Well, stop doing it!” I demanded.

  He did an ab curl too, his hands came to my waist and he lifted me over his body. Then he yanked my knees to bent so I was straddling him and his knees came up, caging me in as his arms wrapped around me.

  I pushed against his bare chest and pressed into the bed with my knees.

  This didn’t work.

  “Mace, let me up.”

  He didn’t let me up.

  “Stella, I got about ten minutes then I gotta get going. You got more you want to say?”

  I quit trying to get away, stunned at his arrogance and annoyed that he was ignoring my wishes (yet again) and snapped, “Hell yes!” />
  “Then say it.”

  “All right. I’ll say it. Or, I should say, I’ll repeat it. I want you to move out. I want this to be over, whatever this is, right effing now. I want you to quit screwing with my head. And I want you to stop interfering with my band.”

  “No.”

  I waited for him to say more but apparently that was it.

  “No?” I asked.

  “No,” he repeated, like that was that then he went on. “That all you got?”

  I was back to my stunned, annoyed staring.

  I just could not believe him.

  He waited then leaned up to touch his mouth to mine and made a move to shift me off his body as if our talk was over, all was hunky dory, he was going to exit the bed and get on with the rest of his day.

  Erm… no.

  We were not done.

  I put my hands to his shoulders and pressed down, locking my thighs at his hips.

  “Hang on a second,” I said.

  Mace stilled and started to look impatient.

  Amused, but impatient.

  “Stella, in case you forgot, I got a bad guy to catch.”

  “I know that but we aren’t done talking.”

  “If that’s what you want to talk about then we are.”

  “We aren’t!”

  “We are.”

  “Damn it, Mace!”

  His hands on my waist got tighter and his face came closer and that face had lost its amusement and was now very serious.

  “This is how it’s gonna go down,” Mace stated, his voice firm.

  Effing hell.

  I don’t think I want to know how it’s gonna go down, my brain sounded kind of scared.

  I don’t either, I told my brain.

  “You’re obviously gonna fight it and that’s fine, I already told you I’m happy to take you on. We both know where we stand with this; we’re goin’ over old ground. You gotta know, though, that this kind of fight, there aren’t any rules. If it means I gotta fuck with your head then I’m gonna fuck with your head. You don’t like it, tough.”

  Did I say he was unbelievable?

  In case I didn’t, he was just unbelievable!

  “I don’t like it,” I returned. “As I already told you, I’m not going there again. Not with you.”

  “You’re already there,” he informed me.

  “I am not!” I snapped back.

  The amusement returned. “Babe, you’re sitting naked in my lap on the morning after a night where you begged to suck my –”

  I put a hand over his mouth to stop his words and drowned out the muffled noise with a sharp, angry scream that came from the back of my throat.

  I thought back and I had begged and then he’d let me and it was nice, for both of us.

  Shit, I was so weak!

  I took my hand from his mouth, shut my eyes tight, lifted my arms and grabbed my hair in both of my fists.

  This, I decided, was not going my way.

  At all.

  And it was all my fault.

  Then it hit me, something else we had to talk about.

  I dropped my arms, opened my eyes and looked right into his.

  He was full on amused now.

  I ignored his amusement.

  “Tell me about yesterday morning in the kitchen,” I said quietly.

  The amusement disappeared instantly.

  Oh dear.

  “What about it?” he asked, his voice was guarded.

  “You know,” I answered, my voice still soft.

  His hands still at my waist, he made to move again but I did the hands-pressing-on-shoulders, thighs-locking-on-hips move again and he stilled.

  His eyes came back to mine and now they were guarded. No warm amusement, no determination, no impatience, nothing.

  Blank.

  Hidden.

  He didn’t say a word.

  And that’s when I knew.

  Mace was going to do whatever he had to do to win me.

  Except what would actually work.

  “I get it,” I whispered.

  I watched his eyes flash with anger. “I don’t think you do,” he replied.

  “No, you’re right. I don’t. And you aren’t gonna give it to me,” I retorted, knowing he wasn’t going to share, knowing he was willing to take but he wasn’t willing to give. This hurt, it shouldn’t hurt, I didn’t want it to hurt but it was a kick to the gut all the same.

  Then I said softly, “Same shit, Mace, just a year later.”

  It was my turn to try to get away but he twisted and we ended with me on my back, he was on top of me and we were face-to-face.

  “You think you got it figured out, Kitten, but you don’t. Bottom line, you aren’t ready for it,” he told me.

  I probably wasn’t ready for it, if the look in his eyes yesterday morning was anything to go by.

  But I had to know. I knew I shouldn’t want to, shouldn’t need to, but I had to.

  “And you get to decide when I’m ready?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “And when’s that gonna be?”

  “I’ll tell you when it’s not gonna be, it’s not gonna be when you’re trying to push me away because you still don’t trust me,” he returned.

  “So you get to screw with my head, fuck with my life, take what you want and you give me nothing?”

  “You got it,” he answered, totally calm.

  He could not be serious.

  “I don’t believe you. You’re just… unbelievable,” I spat my earlier thought out loud.

  His hand travelled down my arm, locked around my wrist and pulled it up. When he had it between us, his hand shifted, pressing mine flat against his beating heart.

  “You want in here?” he murmured, his eyes intense, so intense I felt my gut clench with fear. This was a fear I didn’t understand, it wasn’t even logical, but it scared me all the same. It was the same fear as yesterday morning, huge and uncontrollable.

  “No,” I lied. Except for the ability to play my music, being in his heart was the only thing I’d ever wanted in my whole effing life.

  He shook his head. “Until that answer changes, babe, you get what I’m willin’ to give you. My protection, my attention and my cock.”

  I gasped at his frankness and my body went solid with fury.

  “Unbelievable,” I hissed.

  “When the time comes where you give me somethin’ without me havin’ to pull it out of you, where you give me a piece of you without me havin’ to take it then I’ll give you a piece of me.”

  “That time’s never going to come,” I snapped back though I wanted a piece of him. I wanted more than a piece of him, I wanted all of him. I even wanted a chance to help him battle those demons. In fact, I wanted the chance to take them on all on my own if it meant Mace wouldn’t have them anymore.

  I knew it, I hated myself for my weakness but it was the truth.

  I might not be able to be honest with him but I had to be honest with myself or at least this once.

  “It’ll come,” he promised, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  I glared at him to hide the emotional tumult in my head.

  He calmly returned my glare.

  “Don’t you have shit to do?” I reminded him, my voice sharp.

  I was done.

  Done, done, done!

  He kept watching me for a few beats then his gaze went soft. Instead of moving away from me, his head came down and his face disappeared in my neck.

  I pushed at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t wanna leave it this way.”

  “There’s no other way to leave it,” I informed him and his face came out of my neck. He rolled off me to his side, taking me with him, his arms around me. Both hands slid up my back, he pressed the area between my shoulder blades so my torso was tight against his and he threw a thigh over mine, pinning me.

  I didn’t fight this. I was beginning to learn (belatedly) that fighting him physicall
y was detrimental to my abilities to fight him emotionally.

  One of his hands tangled in my hair, giving it a gentle tug so my head tilted back. He dipped his chin down to look at me.

  Then he said, “All right, Stella, I’ll give you one.”

  Uh-oh.

  One? One what? My brain asked.

  “One what?” I said out loud.

  “A piece of me.”

  Oh dear.

  He kept talking. “The worst part of breaking up with you was you lettin’ me walk away.”

  My breath packed up and took a shuttle flight to the moon.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “It was so good between us, I didn’t think in a million fuckin’ years you’d let me walk away,” Mace went on.

  “What?” I asked. Yes, again!

  His arms got tighter, his hand fisted gently in my hair, right before he said, “It was a test.”

  His words hit me like blows, my body froze rigid then I shouted, “What?”

  “You failed,” he continued.

  Effing hell. Effing hell. Effing bloody hell.

  “You… are… joking,” I breathed, carefully enunciating each word.

  “Babe, I hope you get that I’m prepared to fight for you but I gotta know you’ll fight for me too. This shit goes both ways. This doesn’t end until I know you won’t walk away but also you won’t let me walk away. Never again.”

  What he was saying wasn’t quite penetrating my brain.

  “What you’re telling me,” my voice was both quiet and weirdly scratchy, “is that if I’d asked you back, you would have come?”

  The fingers of his hand not in my hair started to stroke my spine.

  “I needed you to make a statement, Kitten,” he said softly. “You didn’t.”

  All of a sudden, I felt like crying.

  I fought it and persevered at trying to understand what he was telling me.

  “What you’re saying is you didn’t break up with me because you wanted to break up with me. What you’re saying is you broke up with me to test me?”

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  Simple as that.

  Yeah.

  A year of heartache and a simple “yeah”.

  It all boiled down to that.

  Tears filled my eyes, I didn’t want them to but I didn’t fight them either. I was way beyond fighting. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling; I just knew none of it was good.

  “Okay,” I started, my voice now croaky and his hand left my hair, his other hand stopped stroking my spine and his arms got tight. “I just want to be sure I have this straight. You came into my life, gave me the first something good I had outside of music and took it away as a test?”