Mad Love (Guns & Ink Book 1)

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Mad Love (Guns & Ink Book 1) Page 15

by Shana Vanterpool


  Behind us, Cat made a sound like a whip cracking. “KMN.” She pushed to her feet and tossed her trash. “Listen. I’m going to go buy you both Cardigans. But first, I’m going out. You two have fun.” She put her mouth close to my ear. “You’re a beautiful, strong woman. You don’t need to ask permission to any monster whether you’re allowed to feel like one too.” She kissed my cheek and then took off.

  “KMN?” he asked.

  “Kill me now.” I smiled at his confusion.

  “Ah, got it.” He took my hand, giving me a questioning look. I nodded, giving him permission. “Let’s go back up.”

  “It’s okay if you’re not aware of current day abbreviations. Being almost thirty, and all.” I gave him a playful shrug.

  He looked at me, his mouth opening in shock. “Are you talking shit to me?”

  “Don’t fall, grandpa.” I pointed to the stairs. “I can’t carry you up them.”

  “One,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Two.”

  “Why are you counting?”

  “Three. You’d better run. When I get to ten, you’re in trouble.”

  “Klayton, come on.”

  “Four.” His gaze darkened threateningly. “Five.”

  “Be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m serious, baby. Six.”

  I took off up the stairs, laughing when I heard him get to ten. I took the corner of his apartment, but it was too late. I was in his arms, and his fingers were tickling the worst spot on me. My side was ticklish like crazy. I laughed, tossing my head back and trying to escape his hold. “Stop,” I begged. I could hardly get it out. “Oh, no. Stop!”

  He let me go in the hall, bending to press his forehead to mine. “Next time, I won’t tickle your side. You got that?”

  “What would you tickle?”

  “Maybe your inner thigh. With this.” He flicked his piercing at me. And I freaking whimpered. “You want that?”

  I shook my head, but I swallowed. “Got it. You’re young and vibrant. Not archaic at all.”

  He grinned at me, and inside I whimpered again. He was so gorgeous when he smiled like that. All white teeth and starry midnight eyes. The harshness of his face disappeared, leaving behind a man who had probably left many women before me as stunned as I was now.

  “Wise ass. There’s a sushi menu in the kitchen drawer. Go pick what you want.”

  “Where are you going?” I tried to keep the fear out of my voice. The shift in moods left me unstable. Two seconds ago, I was lost in his gaze, the next I was laughing in a way I hadn’t in a painfully long time, and now I was worried he’d leave. That wasn’t warranted. Klayton didn’t have to be my glue. But he’d held me together so far, and I’d found comfort in our connection. “Never mind,” I hurriedly said, stepping away from him.

  I didn’t look back. I simply went into the kitchen and found a drawer by the sink full of takeout menus. Obviously, Klay didn’t go out much either. He only seemed to go out for beer and women. Frowning at that thought, I combed over the menu without seeing it.

  After Klayton came back out a few minutes later, he joined me, leaning over the kitchen counter and writing down what he wanted. His shoulder touched mine, and he’d changed into a pair of shorts; his bare toes reminded me he’d curled mine.

  “You know what you want?” he asked, pen poised to write my choices down.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, and I wasn’t just talking about sushi.

  “Well,” he said, looking at me. “Take your time. I don’t mind waiting.”

  Mad wanted me to kiss him again, but I forced the impulse away because I wasn’t exactly sure it was only Mad who wanted it. I picked two rolls for me and a side of tuna poke salad. As he ordered it, I watched him, wanting to be aware of him.

  There was a knock at the door. He walked over, speaking his order, and opened it, glaring at whoever was on the other side. When he saw that it was his friend from the other night, he got angrier. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  Her eyes widened at his outburst. She looked unsure in seconds when she’d thought he’d want to see her. My stomach dropped for her. If he’d done that to me, I’d cry.

  “Klayton,” I admonished, so unhappy with him it made me sad. He’d been so sweet and attentive, and now he was being an ass.

  He glanced at me, eyes mean and hard. He stepped out of the door and closed it roughly. I couldn’t hear them talking, and frankly, I didn’t want to.

  I hugged myself, fearful once again he would make me choose between him and my safety. The feeling was worse than last time. That was before his lips had made me forget how lost I was.

  Chapter Eleven

  Klayton

  I didn’t need this right now.

  I glared at Lynda, unable to shake the disappointment from Madison’s eyes or the hurt in Lynda’s. I hung up on my sushi order and ran a hand down my face.

  “I thought you’d want to hang out. If you want me to leave …” She let it hang there, waiting for me to change my mind.

  I didn’t want her there. I wanted to spend the night with Mad eating sushi and trying to dig out another one of those airy, gorgeous laughs she’d given me in the hall when I tickled her. I hadn’t been expecting her to crack a joke or to look at me with that playful, sexy look she’d had in her gray eyes. We’d been attached at the hip for days; I’d grown so used to her—having Lynda there ripped me away from Mad.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” I put my cell in my pocket and bit back my groan when I thought of the look my houseguest had given me again. Like she never should have trusted I’d change. “I wasn’t expecting you. My roommate and I were about to order some sushi and hang out. You want to kick it too?” I hoped I looked as unpleasant as Mad thought I was.

  But Lynda wasn’t opposed to my shitty behavior. She probably dealt with assholes all the time. She sighed in relief and gave me a flirty smile. “Yeah, sure. Josh’s with his dad tonight.”

  Josh was her son. Blurry, drunken conversations about her son and her divorce to her husband came back to me. She’d been married for five years. The perfect wife, she said. Until her husband cheated on her and she’d been dulling her pain ever since. Feeling like the biggest prick in the world, I decided to let my crappy mood go.

  I gave her a forced smile—she’d never know the difference—and noticed her glossy lips when she gave me one in return. They weren’t as soft and tempting as Madi’s, but Madi’s lips weren’t mine to kiss. But damn it, I wanted them to be mine. So badly my heart twisted with longing and my soul writhed.

  Mad was on the couch with her arms around herself when we came in. I turned around when I closed the door and took a deep breath. In a weird way, it felt like I was cheating on Madi, even though she didn’t want me. I was a stepping stone for Lynda, and Mad wasn’t in a place where she’d want much more of me.

  Lynda looked the menu over as I reordered my food, promising a large tip for interrupting my earlier order. I cringed at the bill but decided I had no choice. I had no choice in any of this. Not for the emotions I’d laid down with Lynda, or the desire I had for my younger roommate who was in no position to want anything to do with me.

  Feeling empty, I grabbed three beers, cracked them both, and nodded at Lynda to follow me to the couch.

  I handed one to Mad, her eyes guarded and red. I didn’t realize how risky it was to have company until I realized how much Madi didn’t feel like mine anymore.

  “Hi.” Lynda leaned over and gave Madison a smile, holding out her free hand as I continued to stare straight ahead at the commercial on the television.

  “Hi,” Madi said shyly, giving Lynda her hand.

  I ground my teeth together. I didn’t like that. Someone who meant nothing to me touching someone who obviously meant more than I could admit. Maybe it was a dick move, but those were the only moves I had. I typically didn’t hit it twice, and this was the reason. Women got attached. I had never been attached to any
one in my entire life. Women were women, friends were a nuisance, and the only kind of relationships I tolerated were the business kind. Cat was the only person in my life that I wanted around. And now there was Mad. A woman who didn’t need someone like me pawing at her. But I couldn’t help it. My attraction to her didn’t ask permission.

  My attraction wanted to be sated.

  “What’s wrong?” Lynda asked, rubbing my back. It reminded me of other hands on my back. My insides started to burn.

  They screamed.

  I wanted to bolt. From what I didn’t want and what I couldn’t have. “Nothing,” I mumbled, drinking my beer down and getting up to get another one. In the kitchen, I watched Madi sip her beer, making a face every time she swallowed. She didn’t like it. But she drank it. Was I like that beer to her? She’d tolerate me if she had to.

  I couldn’t see past the rage … the hurt. Shit. Maybe I was falling for her. And it was turning me inside out. I started cracking my knuckles, drinking, watching … wanting. When there was a knock at the door, I let out a relieved breath and got the sushi, giving him a tip since I’d paid on the phone with my card. I set everything out on the kitchen table, and then I snapped.

  I needed out of there. Or I’d destroy everything. “Lynda,” I called, putting my keys in my pocket and hopping into my running shoes by the door. “Let’s take off.”

  “Okay …” She was obviously confused. But let’s be honest. She hadn’t come here to eat sushi. She wanted my roll. “Coming.”

  “Klayton?” came Madi’s soft, worried voice.

  I couldn’t stand to hear it right now. I damn sure wasn’t looking at her. Mad would have me with one look. I opened my door and waited impatiently for Lynda to put her heels back on.

  “Where are you going?” Madison asked.

  Hurry up! I begged, willing Lynda to put her heels on and get the shit on. “I’ll be back later.”

  “But why?” Her voice sounded closer.

  Everything in me was so close to imploding, I was on the edge of tears or fury. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid. Like get on my knees and beg Madison Hart to want me more than she wanted that shitty beer.

  Lynda gave me a weird look as she passed by me. I was almost out when I felt a hand on me.

  “What did I do?” Panic and hurt was so thick in her voice I could taste it. “Klay, you can’t leave. You promised. You wanted to stay in with me too.”

  Too. “Mad, please let me go,” I whispered. If I spoke how loudly I wanted, I’d roar and gnash. Give her more of a reason to fear me. Push her even farther away.

  I didn’t want her away. I wanted her close.

  “I’ll go in your room. You can hang out in the living room.”

  “Mad,” I begged, on the edge of falling over, cracking open, and admitting Cat was right. I was falling for a woman who was never going to be able to return my feelings. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand was closing the door behind me. I didn’t want Lynda. I didn’t want anyone but my Mad; the breakdowns, the smiles—the hope within the pain. Which meant I had to leave. “Go,” I ordered Lynda, heading for the stairs.

  I heard my door open before Madison called my name, heartbreak thick in her voice. “Klayton!”

  Lynda was at the bottom of the stairs looking at me with a concerned look. I couldn’t breathe. I felt like a kid, and my father was screaming, and all I wanted was for him to give me something, anything, that didn’t take so much from me.

  I heard heels on the ground, and then bare feet. My truck was within touching distance, but my feet wouldn’t move, not when Madison came to stand in front of it, blocking me. Tears glistened in her eyes, and she was reaching for me, betrayal and fear burning in them.

  Our eyes locked. Our emotions clashed. We warred. I didn’t mine losing this time.

  I crushed her to me, feeling a dark, damaging peace slide over me.

  We stood that way for so long she began to shiver from the cool night air. I bent at the knees and lifted her into my arms, bringing her back upstairs. I sent a silent thanks to Lynda for taking off and then forced her from my mind. Mad’s arms were around my neck, her lips on my pulse—it hammered for her. Pounding in a way it never had. I settled us on the couch, cradling her body in my arms.

  I felt … alive. Moved. On the edge of madness. Or at least I wanted to be, straddling a line that finally mattered.

  “I’m sorry I torture you,” she whispered, kissing my pulse. “But I’m not sorry enough to let you go.”

  Balls? I thought sadly. You there? “Me neither. I’m sorry you’re not ready for some prick dry humping you, but I’m not sorry enough not to want you.”

  Her small hand touched my face, her soft fingers scraping on my beard. It sent a flood of hunger to my groin, making it hard and throbbing in seconds. I wanted her so badly. To take her jeans off and bury myself inside of her wet, hot heat. I could only imagine how tight she’d be, how new, how mine she’d be. I thought some part of me wanted to be with her to assure myself we’d be okay when she took off. That day would come. She deserved to get better, to heal, and I was only in her way.

  Not caring whether she felt it or not, I held her closer, making her legs slip to make room. They were wide open on my lap, and every single part of me wanted to do something about it. “Can we go to the room?” My voice was so gruff I was worried it’d scare her.

  Her breaths were heavy and hot on my neck. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t want to have sex.” It came out in one rushed word. Idon’twanttohavesex. “But,” she continued breathlessly. “We can kiss?”

  Without another word, I rose with her in my arms. She yelped, clutching me as I stomped us into my room. I let her go when we got to the bed. She looked wide-eyed and nervous, but not afraid. It calmed some of my blood. “We’re not having sex. That’s not an option until you decide it is. Okay?” She had to know that. She nodded. “I won’t even try. But I do want to do other things if that’s all right with you?”

  She swallowed, licking her lips. It was dark in my room, but her eyes looked alive and electric. Like a storm raining down on us both. “Like what other things?”

  I grinned. “I’d love to taste your pussy.”

  She gasped, turning deep red in the dark. “Klayton.” She couldn’t even look me in the eye. “I’m on my period.”

  Details. She had no idea who I was. How badly I wanted her. “I know.”

  “And you still want to do that?”

  I couldn’t help it. I kissed her, plunging my tongue into her mouth. “Lay down.”

  She looked at the bed and then at me. Fear was there. I wondered if it was the bed. Or if it was being on there with me.

  “How about this. You take your clothes off on your own and get into the bed on your own. This is only going to end well for you, Mad. I won’t take my clothes off at all.”

  She looked mortified, frightened, and wanting; her breathing was deeper than mine. “I have to get naked?”

  “How else am I going to taste you?” I was sure I had nails and body hair, in beast mode, growling and snapping, wanting to get between her legs sooner than later. “Don’t be shy,” I comforted her. “There’s nothing to be shy about.”

  A whoosh of breath left her lungs. “This is happening so fast.”

  Feeling her slipping more toward her fear than me, I laid on the bed instead. “I’ll be on the bottom.”

  Her eyes traveled over me. I knew that it comforted her when the gray in her eyes became a soft, pale, electric blue. “Can you take your shirt off?” she squeaked, wringing her hands together in front of her.

  Keeping the humor from my eyes, I pulled it over my head, leaving me in my shorts and boxers. “Your turn, baby.”

  She made a face, meeting my eyes in hopes I’d tell her not to. I wasn’t. Giving up, she stomped her foot and then grabbed for her black shirt, and pulled it over her head, leav
ing her in the black bra I’d bought her.

  “Bra too.”

  She was heartbreakingly skinnier than the Madison in the pictures, but she was still gorgeous. Pale, flat stomach leading the way up to her petite breasts. Her bra plunged to her sternum. I’d bought her the wrong style. She needed something smaller, more intimate, something that helped her tits, not took them over.

  It took her a bit, but finally, she reached around back to unsnap her bra. She dropped it on the floor and then covered her tits with her hands.

  I gave her a dark look. “What’s the issue?”

  “I’m nervous, thank you very much!” Her glaring was making it hard to sit still. “Sorry, I’m not like the women in your paintings or tattoos.”

  “You’re right,” I said, waiting for her to drop her hands. “You’re better.”

  She harrumphed in surprise, mouth opening and eyes softening. She licked her lips and then gave me what I wanted. She dropped her hands, leaving her tits for my eyes. They devoured her and her petite, pale breasts and small, pale, pink nipples. They hardened under my stare. I knew where I wanted to lick first. “Jeans next.” I was lost in a haze. It was so consuming and controlling; I wasn’t aware of anything unless it came from her.

  “Can I clean up first?”

  “Hurry.”

  She scampered for my bathroom. I could only imagine the dressing down her conscience would give her. I waited impatiently, my cock so hard it was painful. The edge of my sights pulsed black. I had tunnel vision, and she wasn’t even naked yet. After what felt like years, she emerged, naked and stunning. She had let her golden hair down and had washed herself; I could smell her fruity body wash.

  “I’m nervous. I’ve only been with one other man before, and he was … not like you. I don’t want to do anything that reminds me of where I was.” She swallowed hard, stepping close to me.

  “What can I do to prevent that?” I didn’t want to take her anywhere but to ecstasy.

  “I don’t want to be on my back.”

  That hit me like a fist. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

 

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