Craving Control

by Kylie Hillman

  Maddi’s legs are wrapped around Mik’s waist. His hands are folded under her curvy backside. She kisses his cheeks, planting a delicate kiss on each side of his face. My monster is almost mollified by her innocent greeting until Mikhail Kennedy signs his death warrant and cements my plans for Maddi’s complete obliteration.

  He kisses Maddi on the lips, then fixes a cocky look of victory on me over her shoulder.

  Benji twists to face me as well, pure malice coating his face, and raises his middle finger.

  “Game, set, match, motherfucker,” he mouths, silently.

  My body shakes. Angry tremors of fury like I’ve never felt before engulf me, and I stalk through the crowd after them. A burning beacon of punishment with one target in mind.

  They might think they’ve won for now.

  I will have the last laugh.

  They don’t understand the depths of Hell they’ve just unleashed.

  By the time the sun rises tomorrow morning, they will all be broken.

  Three souls will be shattered to pieces.

  Even if only one of them knows it at the time.

  SEVENTEEN

  “Well, I suppose I better show you two your presents,” Mik says to Maddi as I storm into earshot.

  He sets her on her feet. Pats her ass and leads Benji and Maddi out the double doors.

  Benji steps outside after him first, and I seize the opportunity to bring Maddi back to my side. Every ounce of rage I’m feeling lashes through me when I grab hold of her arm with enough force to swing her in a half circle. Her hands land on my chest, and she smiles at me.

  Pure happiness radiates from her bright, blue eyes.

  I want to crush her right now.

  Unfortunately, there’s too many witnesses and too many illegal weapons at the party for that to be a wise course of action.

  Instead, I take a steadying breath and settle for glaring at her. If they could, my eyes would shoot lasers that incinerated her on the spot. Maddi quickly gets the message, her smile dying in an instant, and she doesn’t offer a protest when I take her hand in mine. My grip must hurt, yet Maddi shows no sign of pain.

  Her easy acquiescence eases my demon slightly. He climbs back in his cage, content to mutter about raining retribution down on undeserving heads. With his decision to step down, I’m better able to navigate the scene in front of me.

  When we step outside, Maddi offers me a another, more tentative smile. This time I’m able to bare me teeth in a crude rendering of the expression on her face. It’s more sneer than smile, but it’s the best I can manage in the circumstances.

  Mik and Joel are unloading two motorcycles from a trailer. Joel presents the black one to Benji while Mik wheels the blue motorbike to Maddi.

  My latest arch-nemesis places two fingers in his mouth and produces an ear-splitting whistle. As he does it, he winks at me, and it dawns on me that he’s eluding to the message Maddi left for him yesterday. The asshole knows everything—my underhanded tactics, my plan to isolate Maddi, my burning envy of their relationship, past and present.

  How he knows? I don’t know yet.

  But, he knows, and that’s not an eventuality I’ve included in my meticulous preparations.

  Shit.

  “Mad Dog and I fixed these bikes up for you both,” Joel declares to his siblings. “We hope you like them. I helped with the rebuilding, but Mad Dog’s the one who found them and paid for everything. Happy Birthday!”

  “Hey, I helped too,” Maddi yells over the applause that follows her brother’s announcement.

  Joel shakes his head at his sister, snapping back with a rare display of humour. “Only because we couldn’t keep you out of the damn workshop without raising your suspicions since you’re a damn grease monkey.”

  Maddi laughs, as does everyone else. The in-joke goes straight over my head. I don’t understand exactly what they find so funny. Why would a girl like Maddi be working in a bike shop? It would be a cold day in Hell before I brought her a motorcycle; however I’m more than willing to cater to her other whims. If she wanted something like this, she could have asked me. I would have found her a new one—not an old piece of crap that she needed to help restore with her own hands.

  Never one to go long without the spotlight on him, Benji throws his leg over his motorcycle and loudly exclaims, “This is fucking awesome. I love both of you. Best birthday present ever!”

  “Here you go, Lainey.” Mik kicks down the stand and formally presents the blue Harley to Maddi.

  She lets go of my hand and throws her arms around his neck. He picks her up and swings her around. Bile rises in my throat when Maddi ignores me, and plants kiss after kiss on his face.

  I curl my fingers into fists and grind my teeth to stop the invective that’s brewing in my stomach and surging up my throat from spewing out of my mouth. These two couldn’t be any more obvious in their contempt for me if they stripped their clothes off and started fucking in front of me.

  The dirty biker finally removes his greedy hands from my girlfriend and jogs away. I zero in on Maddi, tugging on her arm to regain her attention. She steps away from me, basically jumping for joy when Mik presents her with a helmet that matches her motorcycle.

  “A little something extra I got you. When I saw it, it gave me the idea for your paint job.” He flashes her a grin filled with smug satisfaction. Maddi places the helmet over her head and he fastens it beneath her chin. With each movement, his forearms touch her chest. Maddi seems oblivious.

  I, however, am not.

  “Looks sexy as fuck on you. I knew it would.”

  Maddi earns herself a point in my good books when she rolls her eyes at him. I clear my throat, daring him to continue objectifying my girl. He meets my eyes for only the second time tonight and curls his top lip. Blatant disrespect drips from him as he lifts his chin and dismisses me with a sneer.

  He turns Maddi so her back is to me, then steps between us. Lowering his Black Shamrocks MC jacket over her shoulders, he helps her into it. When he swivels Maddi to face us, I catch her ducking her nose inside his jacket and drawing in a deep breath.

  She shudders, then catches my eye. Mortification colours her face when she sees that I’m watching her. While I try to wrap my head around her disloyalty, Maddi pretends to be engrossed in rolling up the cuffs of his jacket.

  “Thank you,” she purrs.

  “Only you, angel,” Mik replies.

  See how she smells him? My monster awakens to mock me. See how he calls her angel, too?

  My universe falls apart around me.

  How stupid are you? He questions me. She treats all men the same. You’re nothing special to her.

  The beast that lives inside me is right. Madelaine O’Brien isn’t innocent. She’s a poisonous temptress. A dirty siren sent from Hell to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp it into the ground. All this time, I thought I was the one in control.

  Turns out she was simply using me to gain his attention, biding her time until he took the bait she cast with my soul as the lure.

  I guess that answers my question, the demon taunts me. You’re dumber than I thought.

  While I’m losing my mind, drowning in my own defeat, Mik Kennedy is zipping his jacket shut over Maddi’s upper body. He places his hands on her shoulders, and she doesn’t flinch or cringe like she does with me most times.

  The devastation that was threatening to overwhelm me recedes a little.

  She’s not scared of him.

  Can I use her fear to keep her with me?

  “Take her for a ride,” Mik instructs.

  Maddi straddles her motorbike with an ease that tells me this isn’t her first time. She proves my suspicions by starting the bike first go. Her twin matches her actions—the sound of his motorcycle reminding me that it was for the best that I didn’t lose my temper a minute ago.

  As long as we’re at this party, Maddi is protected from my wrath. There are too many witnesses.

  Benji acts like a
fool, hamming it up for his adoring onlookers. Mik takes his focus off Maddi to watch her twin, and that’s when I strike.

  Stepping into her line of sight, I tilt my head to the side and give Maddi a curious look.

  She swallows, something that resembles shame flooding her face before she regains her equilibrium.

  I don’t buy it for a second—she knew I was here, watching her act like a whore as she fawned over her so-called best friend.

  “Brendan, borrow a helmet off Dad’s bike and come for a ride,” she shouts over the pounding motors, pointing at one of the motorbikes parked near us.

  Shaking my head, I move to grab one of her handlebars. “No, thank you. Are you sure you can handle that bike? It’s pretty big for a girl.”

  As concerns go, it’s not going to get her off a bike that she can so obviously handle. It’s simply a small gesture so that, when she rides off, I can tell myself I did something to stop her.

  You’re a pussy, my demon curses me.

  With an inward shrug, I agree with him. There’s no denying it. Maddi has reduced me to a hand-wringing, spine-less joke for the moment.

  My girlfriend opens her mouth to say something, but Mik interjects before she can speak.

  “Of course, she fucking can. As if I’d give her something she couldn’t handle. Fucking amateur.” He shakes his head, disgust written all over his face. I ignore him, until he forces my hand by grabbing the helmet Maddi pointed me toward and making his way to the back of her motorcycle.

  “If lover boy’s too scared to go with you, I’ll go,” he says with a smirk.

  Benji chooses now to bring the crowd into our private affairs. He throws his head back and laughs like the lunatic we all know he is. I stretch my neck out to loosen the rage that’s burning through my spine, and attempt to reason with Mik.

  "I'd prefer if you didn't, Mik,” I say, obvious censure coating my words. Stepping between him and Maddi, I pretend to turn my efforts on her. “It's not appropriate, Lainey.”

  My use of his personal nickname for Maddi has the desired effect. Mik steps up to me and points his finger in my face. “Is that fucking right, lover boy?”

  Knowing that Maddi can’t see me, I grin at him. His eyes almost roll back in his head as he fights to keep a leash on his temper.

  “I'm Mad Dog to civvies like you, I'll have you know. And she...” Mik points in my girlfriend’s direction. “Isn’t Lainey to anyone but me.”

  If I play this smart, I will snare the upper hand from him. I choose to play this smart. Instead of engaging in a war of words with him, I fake offense at his attack and take a step away from him. This tactic worked with Benji—maybe it’ll have the same outcome with Mik Kennedy.

  He takes my bait.

  “I'll also have you know that if I want to go for a ride with her, I fucking will. If any man here wants to go for a ride with her and she wants to take them, then she will. You're her boyfriend, unfortunately, not her fucking owner, so fuck you and fuck your inappropriate shit.”

  I hear Maddi suck in a breath. The crowd goes quiet, his vehement recriminations have sucked all of the excitement out of the birthday party. Without another word, I walk off from them. On the outside, I may appear to have been humiliated into conceding to him, but on the inside I’m smiling.

  I consider this showdown a win.

  Why, you may ask? Well, let me explain.

  I don’t expect Maddi to get off the motorcycle and follow me. She’s much too conscious of what everyone thinks of her to do that. However, this flare-up will play on her mind throughout her ride and she’ll be much more inclined to ditch Mik and soothe the beast in me when she returns.

  As much as it dents my pride, sometimes it’s better to come off second best in a skirmish, if it helps you win the actual battle.

  “Fuck, Lainey, you sure can pick them,” Mik says, loud enough for most of us to hear.

  I don’t moderate my steps or give him any indication that I heard him.

  Let him try to rattle me—he’ll get nowhere.

  It’s unfortunate for him that he’s just showed his hand in this scuffle and I found him devoid of credence. What he’s has over me in history, he’s certainly lacking in finesse. He embarrassed her. And, something I know for certain is that Maddi hates nothing more than being dictated to and publicly chastened.

  It’s something I would do well to remember in the future. It’s a line I skirt all too often.

  Maddi mumbles a response to his rudeness that doesn’t carry over to me.

  I pull open the door as their motorcycles begin to rev. Something pricks my intuition—a portent of trouble to come, perhaps?—which makes me turn to watch Maddi ride off.

  Mikhail Kennedy meets my enquiring eyes and shoots me a shit-eating grin. He does up his helmet, pulls the back pegs down and climbs on behind Maddi.

  With his arms around her waist, his thumbs dangerously close to her the bottom of her breasts, he fires another warning shot—this time effectively declaring war.

  “Ride on, wench.”

  Everyone who’s still outside starts laughing at him.

  I try my hardest to ignore them. I fail. His barb hits home, leaving a smarting gash in my confidence.

  When Maddi rides off with that viper at her back, it takes all of my control not to hop in my truck and follow them. Going against my most base instinct, and my demon’s pleas for destruction, I head back inside the hall and begin to drink myself into a stupor.

  My father’s warning when I left home this afternoon rolls round and round in my head, berating me, ranting at me, reminding me that our plans rest on the outcome of tonight. It bounces off my skull and leaves a throbbing ache across my forehead.

  I down a seventh bottle of beer in an attempt to quieten him.

  “Don’t fuck this up,” he’d demanded. “She is the key to unimaginable power.”

  The wording of his ominous prediction strikes a nerve.

  It’s almost identical to what Beast said to Maddi during his toast.

  The next time the bar staff make the rounds, I decline another beer. I need my wits about me.

  It’s becoming clear that my dominion over Maddi is being threatened on more than one front.

  First Mik Kennedy and Benji O’Brien team up to defeat me.

  Am I also being played by my own father and Beast O’Brien?

  EIGHTEEN

  Half an hour later, Maddi returns. From the corner of my eye, I watch her search the room for me. She’s nervous, the tell-tale frown line between her eyes much more prominent than usual. I stay in my seat, acting like I can’t see her when she finally pinpoints my location and heads toward me.

  She snags a drink for both of us on her way, then sits sideways on my lap without so much as a greeting.

  I wait for Maddi to break the silence. When she doesn’t my own petulance gets the better of me.

  “How was it?” I ask.

  A dozen emotions flit over her face before she settles on one.

  “It was awesome,” she replies excitedly.

  My hands itch with the need to slap some sense into her. How on earth could she believe that enthusiasm was the correct tact to take? Rather than lay hands on her, I let the awkward silence return and do my speaking for me.

  “What’s wrong,” Maddi asks after a minute.

  She rubs her hands over my chest, re-using her tactic from yesterday. I lean down and reach under my chair for the present I brought. Shoving it at her, I hold my torso away from her body, withholding affection until she displays appropriate gratitude.

  “I got you this, but I don’t know if it’ll make you happy now. I can’t compete with your biker best friend and his Harley-Davidson,” I announce, not taking any action to hide my bitterness.

  Maddi falls for it, hook, line, and sinker.

  “Of course, I’ll love it. It’s from you, silly.”

  She’s too easy. Her innate need to manage everyone’s emotional turmoil will be her downfall.
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  Unwrapping my gift, I can almost hear the groan she suppresses when she cracks open the long, velvet-covered jewelry box. As much as it irks me, I understand why she’s uncomfortable receiving expensive gifts. The diamond and sapphire tennis bracelet matches the ring I gave her—and costs at least triple her second-hand motorcycle did. It’s hardly something she would normally covet for herself, raised as she has been as part of impecunious lower class.

  In time, she’ll get used to my lifestyle and become adept at demonstrating the expected level of gratification.

  Maddi pulls the bracelet free and hands it to me. My fingers are gentle when I pull her arm straight and do up the clasp around her wrist.

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.” She presses herself against me, letting me hold her tight.

  Feeling her body against mine settles some of my doubts and reminds me what’s at stake. Maddi mightn’t be as pure as I first imagined, however I’m certain she’s telling the truth about being a virgin, and that prize remains my ultimate goal.

  She brings her lips to mine. Our kiss is chaste, driving home my previous point, and begging me to take charge. Manhandling her unwilling body until she’s straddling my lap, I ignore her stiffness and take hold of the globes of her ass. Her curves fill my hands, ripe and supple beneath my wandering fingers. I push my tongue into her mouth, barging straight past her regularly defined limits to finally take what’s mine.

  I run my hand under her shirt and grasp her breast. Squeezing it, I knead her pliable flesh. My cock hardens beneath Maddi’s warmth, and I take advantage of our positions by using my leverage I have on her backside to rock her back and forth over my growing bulge.

  For once, Maddi just goes with it. Her usual protests never eventuate, and I take that as my green light to indulge in her luscious body to my heart’s content. Closing my eyes, I block out the noisy room and let the feel of her pussy moving over my cock push me to the edge.