“I wasn’t. It was just one friend leaving a message for another.”
“No,” I reply, the fire in my veins devouring all the reasons why I shouldn’t do this here. My rage turns me into a hostile inferno intent of ripping raw strips of flesh from her. “It was a bitch in heat chasing an available cock.”
Once again, I back her into a corner. This time, she’s more aware of my tactic. Her fingers close into fists and she raises her hands in front of her like a shield. I don’t care. I’m too far gone. The voice in my head is demanding that I let him out, so he can put her in her place. He wants her penance in blood. Her control yielded by pain.
I just want her love without a fight.
My feet freeze—my entire body follows suit.
Shit. Where did that thought come from?
Maddi takes advantage of my lapse in concentration and tries to duck under my arm to get away from me. I regain my senses in time, grabbing her by the shoulders and thrusting her against the wall next to her closed bedroom door. The back of her head bounces off the Masonite with a satisfying thud.
She cries out.
I grin. “Going somewhere?”
She blinks fast, then nods. “I think we need some time apart.”
Without thinking it through, I shake her. Her head bobbles on her shoulders and she fights me with all she has. Scratching. Punching. Clawing. The only thing she doesn’t do is scream for her family to help her.
I keep waiting for her to scream for them, but she doesn’t.
Not that it matters whether she calls for them or not. Nothing they dish out to be will ever be enough to stop me. I keep going, shaking her like an infant until she’s forced to hold onto me to keep her balance. When her fingers are grasping at the front of my shirt and her breath is coming in quick pants, I stop and pin her to the wall.
“You’re not going anywhere.” I watch her throat work when she swallows. “You wear my ring. You walk on my arm. Your name is linked with mine. That means you’re with me until I say you can go... and that will never happen.”
Realisation dawns in her blue eyes—she finally sees the truth of who I am. The terror I expected doesn’t eventuate, instead a cool calculation takes shape, adding a glimmer of cunning to her gaze and changing her expression from panicked, fear-driven annoyance to a muted and benign understanding.
It hits me in the chest and sends my monster howling—this time for my blood.
I’ve made a fatal error.
I’ve treated her with the same contemptuous level of ownership as her brothers and father.
I’ve added myself to the list of men Maddi needs to manage.
“Brendan,” Maddi murmurs. She pats down the front of my shirt and lifts herself onto her tip toes, so she can kiss me. “Let’s not fight. It’s my birthday party tomorrow. All I want to do is have a good time with you.”
I accept her kiss. I permit her to push her tongue between my lips. I let her grip my shoulders and press herself against me. What I don’t do is allow her to see that I’m on to her game.
No, I lull her into a false sense of security, allowing Maddi to believe that she’s in control.
Then, I pounce.
I wrench her hands from my shoulders and pin them above her head. My knee fits easily between her denim clad thighs. I use it to raise her along the wall until her feet are no longer touching the ground. She freezes, seemingly uncertain how to handle me, and I use that to my advantage.
“You don’t know who you’re fucking with,” I announce. “But you’re about to find out.”
Maddi’s eyes widen and, for a second, she looks like she’s about to scream.
Something stops her. She closes her mouth and gives up the fight before she’s truly begun.
Not fully trusting her easy acquiescence, I hold her wrists with one hand and use the other to rip open her shirt. The buttons give way with a pop and land on the floor at our feet. I make sure I have her pinned tight as I drop my head to her cleavage and run my tongue between her ample peaks. This is the first time I’ve laid eyes on her chest, and even clad in a plain black bra, they are everything I imagined. My teeth seek and find her cotton-covered left nipple. I suck it into my mouth as well as I can with the material in the way, imagining—salivating over—the day when I can taste her bare skin.
It’s close. It has to be. I cannot sustain my control now I’ve been rewarded with a glimpse of what lays hidden from view.
“Madelaine,” Wendy calls out. She knocks on the door. “I need to borrow you for a minute.”
Pulling away, I lift my head until I’m looking Maddi in the eyes. She gives me a watery smile, then moves her arms within my grip as if to remind me that I still have her pinned.
The door wobbles when Wendy tries to open it. She pounds on the wooden door.
“Madelaine,” she shouts. “Are you all right?’
I lift my knee harder against her core, prodding until she gasps. Happy that she’s got the point, I let go of Maddi’s wrists and step back from her. She squeezes past me and unlocks the door. Using the door as a shield, she answers her nosy step-mother with a fake smile plastered on her face.
“Hey.” Maddi’s voice has a noticeable tremor. “What’s up?”
“I need your help with a couple things for tomorrow.” Wendy pauses, then lowers her voice. “Are you all right? Your face is white, and you’re not looking like yourself.”
It’s time for me to step in and diffuse this before Maddi gets any ideas about confiding in her step-mother. I step around Maddi and pull the door all the way open. Hiding my shaking girlfriend behind me, I use my body to shepherd Wendy over to the other side of the hallway. She goes without complaint, although her face is covered in suspicion.
“How are you today, Ms. Markham?”
“Just fine,” she replies. She tries to side step me, but I cut her off. “If you’d just let me get to Madelaine, I’d be even better. I need to talk to her about tomorrow.”
She slides to the right and I follow her. When she steps to the left, I match her movements again. Maddi sighs and closes the door. I step back and lean against it. Crossing my arms over my chest, I hit Wendy with the trademark Taylor smirk and cock an eyebrow. She reacts as if she’s seen a ghost—which she probably has. I’m sure she’s been on the receiving end of that look dozens of times when she was having her dalliance with my father.
“As you can see, me and Maddi are kind of busy.” I let the crude innuendo drip from my mouth. “I’m sure she’ll be out to see you once she’s fully satisfied.”
Wendy’s face reddens, and she hurries toward the back of the house. I wait until she’s out of sight before I slip back into Maddi’s room. Shutting the door again, I know my time is limited. Wendy has more-than-likely gone for reinforcements in the form of one of the O’Brien boys.
I need to get my point across and I need to do it now.
Maddi’s sitting on her bed. While I was gone, she exchanged her shredded shirt for an over-sized Harley T-shirt and she’s huddled inside it like it will keep her safe from me. For a second, I wonder if it belongs to Mik Kennedy, but I push that thought away when I see how hard Maddi’s fighting to hide that she’s upset about what just happened.
“Are you all right?” I echo Wendy’s earlier question.
She lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted attempt at a shrug.
Lowering myself until I’m at her eyeline, I squat in front of her, balancing myself with one hand on her thigh. I plant a quick kiss of the end of her nose and pat her cheek. At first, she flinches as if she’s going to pull away from me, until I make it clear with my firm grip on her leg that I’m not going anywhere until she meets my eyes.
“What just happened?” Maddi asks.
I offer her a shy smile. “We had our first fight. It’s nothing to stress about. All couples have moments like this.”
The cunning calculation I caught in her eyes before returns to her gaze. I pretend I don’t see it, all the while formu
lating a plan to nip whatever uprising she has planned in the bud, before it can flower into a full-blown rebellion.
“I guess you’re right,” Maddi replies after a noticeable delay.
Opening my arms wide, my smile widens into a shit-eating grin when she willingly moves into my embrace. Madelaine O’Brien might be labouring under the illusion that she can outwit me. She’s about to learn that I’m not her brothers or her father. I’m unmanageable. A maverick who takes what he wants and never loses.
It’s fortunate for me—and ultimately unlucky for her—that I possess the ace up my sleeve I need to ensure that I get what I want from her.
I’m done waiting. I’m finished pretending to be the nice guy.
Tomorrow night, once this farce of a birthday party has been endured to its conclusion, the real celebration will begin and the one thing I want right now more than anything else in this world will be mine.
Maddi’s death grip on her virginity will be relinquished—one way or another.
SIXTEEN
The town hall is milling with bikers dressed in distressed leather and dirty denim, townies dressed in whatever passes for fashion in their part of the world, and me. I’m appropriately clad in a freshly-pressed dress shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up my forearms, and a pair of chinos. My boots are polished and my signet ring and watch shine. I am a class above these peasants, and the looks they shoot my way as I move through the crowd in search of Maddi, tells me that they know it.
“Turn the lights down,” Beast commands.
The hall is dimmed, the only illumination coming from the galley kitchen when Joel and Wendy emerge, each holding a cake. The cake Joel is carrying has been fashioned to resemble an oversized pair of tits while Wendy places the cake made in the shape of the Harley Davidson logo in front of Maddi.
It’s such a trashy idea for a cake that I’m left momentarily speechless at the dearth of common ground between me and Maddi. Some of her choices—her interests and her hobbies—are so bewilderingly garish that they border on vulgar for a woman of Maddi’s potential.
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.” The O’Brien boys—Joel, Matty, and Lachie—lead the rendition of the birthday song. “Happy birthday to you.”
Snapping out of my indignant contempt, I make my way behind Maddi and enclose her lush body in my arms. Her ass presses against my bulge. I run my hands over her flat stomach and clasp them together, resting my wrists against her mound. Nervous tension radiates from her and I run my nose down her neck, dragging in her unique scent of vanilla, roses, and uncertainty.
My decision to act cool with her all day has paid off. She’s on the back foot, scrambling to work out how to calm my angst.
“Happy eighteenth, Maddi.”
At my words, she relaxes in my arms. Victory spirals through me. I’ve won. She’s heeding the lesson I taught her yesterday. Ceding her control over our relationship to me. Settling into her place in the scheme of our lives together.
Euphoria is my new friend, and it sees me through what comes next.
In yet another display of uncouthness, Beast pushes Benji’s face into his cake, then launches into an over-emotional speech about his first-born children.
“Baby girl,” he addresses Maddi. She inclines her head to acknowledge him.
“My son.” He looks at Benji, who’s laughing and eyeing his sister while he wipes his face clean with a napkin. Maddi shoots me a glance that plainly states that I’m not to allow him to touch her brother to push her face in her cake.
Beast clears his throat. “The day you were born was the best day of my life. Your existence was a physical validation of mine and Alanah’s love. You took our lives to another level. You made us a family. Your birth was the first step toward the perfect life your mother and I would go on to create together. I am proud of you both, and I know your mother, God rest her soul, is as well.”
Wow. That’s the longest I’ve ever heard Beast speak without dropping an expletive. It’s also the first time, I’ve ever heard him publicly acknowledge his affection for his children without threatening to hurt someone else in the process.
“Now, that’s not to say it’s always been plain sailing.” He stops, and laughs. Most of the people in the room join him. “You’ve inherited more than your fair share of my fucking stubbornness. You also got the gene that means you have to have the final bloody word on everything... from your mother, of course.”
Everyone chuckles. We all know where that trait came from, and it wasn’t Alanah O’Brien.
“But all joking aside. I’ve never met a pair of kids with so much potential. Baby girl, you’re destined to escape all this. You’re going to be known as someone. More than just my daughter. More than an Old Lady. You’re going to be powerful and unstoppable.”
Maddi stiffens in my embrace. I hug her tighter, and she mutters something under her breath. I don’t catch it, but I hope it’s finally the realisation that she is worth so much more than motorcycle cakes, and birthday parties in town halls. She deserves diamonds and butlers and meals at restaurants where she already knows what every item on the menu tastes like.
And, I’m going to be the man who gives it all to her.
“Benji,” Beast continues. “You’re going to live the life I never did. Football at the highest level. Fame, fortune, and fucking groupies for days.”
Benji grins, then takes a bow. The assembled throng demonstrates their appreciation of his theatrics by stomping their feet and whistling. I press my face into Maddi’s hair, so no one sees the devious expression that I can’t keep off my face.
By the time I’m finished with him, the only thing Benji will be headed for is an orange jumpsuit and prison.
Beast raises her beer bottle in the air. “To Benjamin and Madelaine.”
“To Benji and Maddi,” the crowd roars after him.
The lights come back on, illuminating the room and its motley crew of vagabonds. Benji pushes his way closer to Maddi. I catch the gleam in his eye. He’s about to put her face in her cake. Although she was previously wary of his intentions, Maddi’s now off with the fairies, so I decide to take matters into my own hands.
“Not a chance,” I hiss.
He glances at me. “We’ll see.”
Barely moving from behind Maddi, I reach out and thump his bad arm with a hammer fist motion. He grunts, then immediately cradles his arm. The rage that overtakes his face is amusing and I’m on the verge of taunting him into something rash when Maddi pulls away from me and hits me with a questioning glare. It’s punctuated by an elegantly arched eyebrow and an expression filled with worry.
I shrug. “I hit him. He was trying to put your beautiful face in the cake.”
Her apprehension disappears in an instant. Maddi pokes her tongue out at Benji, breaking into giggles when he returns the favour with a small smile of his own.
Their relationship has been strained since Maddi made it clear that she was in charge of her own decisions and her current choice was me. It’s illuminating to see the carefree interplay between them. I’m not usually privy to this side of them, and I have a momentary waver as guilt hits me.
I don’t labour under any guilt over my plan to destroy Benji. He deserves everything that’s coming and more. I do have a smidgen of remorse at the excess hurt I’m going to bring down on Maddi’s head when my plan comes to fruition later tonight.
“Fuck, I reckon it must be time for presents,” a loud mouth lout shouts over the top of everyone else.
As one, Benji, Maddi, and I turn in the direction of the rowdy party goer. He’s standing on a chair near the main, front entrance. Looking vaguely familiar and wearing a Black Shamrocks MC vest, I’m at a loss as to why he thinks he can interrupt proceedings so rudely.
Although, I’m may be the only attendee who feels like that, if everyone else’s reactions are an accurate indicator.
Next to me, Benji breaks out in a genuine and rather infectious grin. Which is concerning enoug
h since that type of emotion isn’t something he’s really know for. But it’s Maddi’s reaction that really triggers my worry.
“Mik,” she shrieks. “You came.”
Futilely, I reach out to stop her when she starts running at him. My fingers have barely tightened around her upper arm before she’s shaken me off and is sprinting toward Mik Kennedy. My gut churns. I feel ill. The resigned apprehension, the nervous tension, the ceded control—every emotion I’ve evoked in Maddi over the past half a year has been for naught. One appearance from her supposed best friend and she’s forgotten everything we have.
It gets worse. Benji deserts me as well.
The twin’s race, like a pair of pre-school student, over the him. They jostle for first position, their playful behaviour indicating just how close they were until I got between them. Mik steps down off the chair and watches their antics with open affection.
To the casual observer, he appears to love them both, equally.
I see straight through him.
Apart from a cursory glance and a chuckle when Maddi takes the lead, he’s not interested in Benji.
No, his attention is solely focussed on my girlfriend.
When she gets close, he opens his arms wide and she jumps on him. The sickness in my stomach picks up its pace. This is how she greeted him in the school parking lot almost three-quarters of a year ago. Their enforced separation has changed nothing between them. Watching them together, you would assume that they’d spent every day together.
Maddi has never been this comfortable with me.
And, who’s fault is that? I push away my monster’s snarky question and concentrate on the duo in front of me.
Ignore me all you want, the beast taunts. This is your fault because you refused to show her what you were capable of.
“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter. The people I pass shoot me hostile glares until I give them an apologetic smile to show that my vitriol wasn’t directed at them.
No, it’s focused on Madelaine O’Brien and the reckoning she’s going to face the moment I get her alone tonight. It won’t be a Come-to-Jesus talk she receives. I’m set on delivering a total annihilation of her spirit. By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll be branded from the inside out and every inch of her perfect body will know what I’m capable of dishing out when my demands are ignored.
Craving Control Page 15
