Set the Night on Fire

by Laura Trentham

  “It’s your turn.”

  She hesitated. He’d already seen her naked, but that’s not what this undressing was about. It wasn’t a physical baring she was worried about, but an emotional one.

  “Are we making a mistake?” Her voice was barely a whisper. She forced her gaze up to meet his.

  “If this is a mistake, it’s a pretty damn sweet one.”

  She a million percent agreed. They were at least on the same page with their uncertainty, which for some reason settled her nerves. She shrugged the shirt off, leaving her in her panties.

  He ran his hands from her hips, through the curve of her waist, to cup her breasts. His work-rough, tan hands on her white skin had her reaching between his legs.

  He squatted lower to tease her nipple with his lips and wrapped an arm as support under her butt. She held on to his hair, fisting her hands and tugging as she walked a dizzying tightrope of pleasure.

  He flipped her to her back in a move that highlighted his strength. Her laughter petered into a whimper when he came over her, his mouth continuing to torment her breasts. His ability to dominate her should have had her running scared, but she wasn’t moving unless there was a five-alarm fire. And maybe not even then. She’d just go up in flames.

  His thigh settled between her legs, the barrier of her underwear unwelcome. As much as she was enjoying his attention to her nipples, she’d been aroused since the night before. Twenty-four hours of unrelieved desperation. She squirmed and yanked his head up by his hair.

  “Why does that feel so damn good?” His question came out with a groan.

  “You like a little hair pulling?” She did it again, and his answer was a gasp.

  “Apparently, I love it. Or at least my dick does.”

  Satisfaction rolled through her like a slow wave and made her hips undulate against his thigh. He took the hint without her having to beg and slipped his hand inside her panties. His hum was an echo of her own satisfaction.

  “I’ve been thinking about this since last night.” She grabbed his wrist and tried to force more contact, but instead he worked her panties off until she was naked.

  “Even sitting at the computer teaching me the new software?” His fingers went back to work, stroking and rubbing her in all the right places, but never filling her.

  “It was torture when all I wanted to do was throw you across the desk and climb on top of you.” Why did sexual confessions pour out of her with him? He sank a finger inside of her. That’s why. A reward.

  “I thought about laying you over my desk and going down on you like last night. In fact, it’s all I’ve thought about since.” He moved as if he was going to slip down for a repeat of the night before, but she yanked on his hair.

  “Later. Right now, I want this.” She let go of his hair to circle his erection, running her thumb over the slick evidence of his need on the tip. They’d had twenty-four hours of foreplay. The main event was long overdue. “And you want it too.”

  He shifted off her to grab a condom packet from the nightstand. He knelt between her knees, grabbed her thighs, and pushed inside of her, achingly slowly but relentless until he was seated deep.

  “’S’okay?” He slurred the question.

  Even the semblance of words was beyond her abilities, and she hoped whatever whimpering moan came out counted as an affirmative. She twisted her hips closer in case he was confused. He wasn’t.

  He pulled almost all the way out before driving forward. She closed her eyes, close to tears and not sure why. It felt incredible. In fact, she’d never expected to find herself in this situation with anyone ever again, much less the man who’d once declared himself her enemy. But here she was, each thrust of his hips spiraling her closer to a mind-shattering climax.

  Would she ever be the same after tonight?

  He slipped his fingers where they were joined, the slight pressure enough to detonate her. She chanted his name and pulled at his shoulders, needing his weight to anchor her. He dropped to his elbows for a rough, breathless kiss.

  He buried himself and held still and silent, his head back, the tendons along his neck taut. A long, slow breath signaled his return to the world, and he tilted his head to look down at her.

  The intensity of the moment was in stark contrast to their earlier playfulness. Did he sense the shift in their world’s axis as well? Would sex stabilize them or spin their relationship out of control?

  A tear slipped out of her eye and ran down her temple. She turned her head, hoping to hide her irrationally emotional response, but it was hard when he was still … well, hard inside of her.

  It was sex. Sex that had been building like the night’s thunderstorm. But, the onslaught had passed, the storm’s energy dissipated. One time with her might be all he wanted.

  He rolled to her side, disposed of the condom, and came back to face her on his elbow, his head propped on his hand. She rubbed the evidence of her tears in the quilt and forced the sunny smile that had earned her Miss Congeniality.

  Instead of returning her smile, he narrowed his eyes as if suspicious of such happiness. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing at all.” She even managed to work a lilt into her voice.

  “Bullshit.” The word came out with the force of a punch.

  Her smile wavered until it disappeared. Part of her hated the way Mack cut through her tried-and-true methods of avoidance. It was uncomfortable. Could she be her messy, awkward self with him or would he ridicule her and make her feel small?

  She had a choice. Keep her mouth shut and a smile on her face and let uncertainty rule her life, or woman up and take charge.

  “Was this a one-time thing?” She tensed, preparing herself for his answer. If it was yes, she’d be okay. She’d survived worse humiliations, after all. It might take a few days under her covers and a more than a few pints of ice cream, but she’d hold her head up high.

  “Do you want it to be?” He ran a hand into her hair and twisted strands around his fingers; the tug on her scalp was like raising the bat signal to her body.

  Not only didn’t she want it to be a one-time thing, but she’d be ready for it to be a two-time thing in sixty seconds flat. She cut her legs against each other. “No. I want more.”

  Although her body meant physically, her mind was operating on a higher plane. One where sex wasn’t just sex, but meant something. She had no clue whether Mack was aware such a plane even existed.

  “I’ll give you as much as you can handle, babe.” The tease in his voice signified the physical implications of his thoughts.

  She hid her disappointment. If all he was offering was amazing, incredible sex, then she wasn’t going to kick him out of bed. He dipped his head to take her lips in a kiss sweeter than any they’d shared. The calm after the storm.

  He flopped on his back, his arm over his head and yawned. Not sure if that was a cue for her to leave, she scooted off the bed and darted to the bathroom to clean up. Looking in the mirror, she finger-combed her tangled hair and stared at herself.

  She looked shell-shocked instead of satisfied, even though her body was sated and slightly sore. What now? Did she tiptoe back in the bedroom, gather her things, and head out? And did they pretend nothing had happened at the garage from eight to five?

  As quietly as possible, she opened the bathroom door and stepped out. He’d turned the lamp off, and she was night blind. She stood in the middle of the room, waiting for her eyes to adjust enough to locate clothes. Any clothes. Or maybe she’d drive home naked. She’d make sure to obey all traffic laws.

  “Come here.” His voice rumbled in the dark.

  “I can’t see.”

  “Walk straight ahead and get your butt back in bed.”

  She shuffled forward until she bumped into the mattress. His dark shape was on the far side of the bed and she crawled over. He’d thrown the covers back, and when she got close, he maneuvered her to his side and pulled the quilt over them.

  “I wasn’t sure if you wan
ted me to hang out or not.”

  “Stay all night.” His yawn was drawn out and noisy.

  “I can’t roll into work tomorrow in the same clothes I wore yesterday. Anyway, they’ll be a wrinkled mess after getting caught in the rain. What would your brothers think?”

  “Probably something along the lines of ‘Thank the Lord, our big brother finally got laid.’”

  His teasing tone wiped some of her tension away. “Have they been worried about your sex life?”

  “Wyatt dragged me to the Tavern right after New Year’s and threw every available woman from twenty to eighty in my path.”

  She popped up on her elbow and stared down at him even though the shadows were too deep to make out his expression. “Did you bring anyone home?”

  “I didn’t.”

  She sank back onto his shoulder, her hand making circles on his chest, her relief acute. Which was crazy considering their interaction up to that point had been confined to dirty looks. And not the fun kind of dirty looks. “Even though I barely knew you two months ago and what I did know about you, I didn’t like, I’m glad.”

  He rumbled a laugh and played in her hair. Not the panty-melting tugs of earlier but a soothing, affectionate touch. “I didn’t like you either, but that didn’t stop me from imagining having sex with you.”

  She propped her hand and chin on his chest. “Let me get this straight: You didn’t like me, but still wanted to do me?”

  “The way you didn’t back down was a major turn-on.” A smile lightened his voice. “Plus, do you own a mirror?”

  She turned that information over in her head. From their first encounter to every fight since, the sexual awareness hovering on the edges had coalesced into a living, breathing entity. “Will your brothers be shocked?”

  “Maybe. They still think I don’t like you.”

  “But you do like me, right? A little?”

  “Are you seriously asking me that after we had sex?”

  “You admitted that you imagined having sex with me after New Year’s Eve even though you didn’t like me.”

  He crunched up enough to kiss her forehead. “I like you.” He let a few beats of silence pass before adding, “Mostly.”

  She jabbed him in the side, and he laughed in a way she’d never heard from him. Not that he laughed often, but this laugh made her think that hadn’t always been the case. This laugh had her picturing him as a kid playing out in the woods with his brothers when life was simpler and his responsibilities were lighter.

  Silence settled over them, but it was a comfortable sort. “Tell me something that happened to you as a kid. Something no one else knows about.”

  He hummed. “This really isn’t a secret, but there’s this reoccurring dream I’ve had since I was a kid.”

  “A nightmare?”

  “No, it’s a good dream. I’m holding a woman’s hand, and we’re walking through the woods toward the river. I’m kind of skipping along, not more than three or four, I’d guess. I felt really happy. Safe. For years, in my dream, the woman was Aunt Hazel.”

  “But something has changed?”

  “Now it’s a different woman. Younger and with dark hair like Wyatt’s. She would laugh and swing me in her arms. I think … I think it’s a memory and not a dream.”

  “Your mother.”

  His shoulder moved under her. “Pop got rid of any pictures of her after she left.”

  Ella had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from expressing anger at his father’s selfishness. Cutting his wife from his life might have made things easier on him, but his sons deserved more.

  “When did your mother replace Ms. Hazel in the dream?”

  “Last fall when everything with Ford blew up and there was talk about tracking down our mom.”

  “Is it a sign?”

  “A sign of what? The end of times?” He baited his words with humor, but she didn’t bite.

  “The end of a two-decade-long estrangement.”

  “She left us and never looked back.”

  “That’s what your father told you. Maybe you should ask her.”

  The rise and fall of his chest tracked time. She didn’t push him further. Familial harmony wasn’t exactly her wheelhouse, considering she hadn’t spoken to her mother in over a year.

  Finally, he said, “Your turn. Tell me something you don’t share with most people.”

  She let her mind wander into her memories. Most of her good memories involved Grayson, but they held a bitter-sweetness she didn’t want to invite into the moment. “I was voted Miss Congeniality during my senior year pageant.”

  “What was your talent? Playing water glasses?”

  She laughed. “I did an interpretive dance to Nelly’s ‘Hot in Here.’”

  “You didn’t.” His laugh was rife with shock.

  “No, I didn’t, but I wish I’d had the nerve so I could see everyone’s faces. I did an interpretive dance to Pachelbel’s Canon. It was a horrible mess, but as I can’t sing or play an instrument, it’s all I could think of that didn’t cost any money to pull off. I was pageant-ing on a budget.”

  “What about your mom? I thought pageants were prime mother-daughter bonding.”

  She made a pishing sound. “Not in my house. My mom didn’t care what I was doing at that point. Almost every girl in our class signed up, except for me. This girl who thought she was all that and a bag of chips started making fun of me. Telling me I was smart to sit it out because I’d come in last anyway. I got mad and told her not only was I going to sign up, but I was going to beat her.”

  “So what you’re saying is you couldn’t resist a challenge even then?”

  A small laugh escaped. “Nope, but I had gotten myself in a pickle. I couldn’t afford a new gown and professional hair and makeup.”

  “Any fairy godmothers around?” Equal parts humor and understanding were in his voice.

  “Not a single one. I taught myself how to put on makeup and do my hair from YouTube videos, and used my babysitting money to buy a gown from a secondhand store. Only it turned out, one of the girls had worn it the year before in the same pageant. One of the snotty, popular girls.”

  “Oh man. Did she skewer you?”

  “Announced to everyone that I was wearing castoffs. They all had a good laugh. And, so did I. I played it off as best I could, threw a few insults masquerading as compliments their way, and somewhere along the way, I became the champion for all the other girls. The ones who weren’t popular or particularly pretty but dreamed of winning.”

  Ella had learned a valuable lesson in that moment. Even as she cowered on the inside, she could fool people as long as she held her head high and projected confidence, no matter how false. It had served her well walking into the garage to face Mack.

  “Did winning Miss Congeniality shut those bitches up?”

  A slice of evil satisfaction made her smile. “Nope. But winning the crown sure did.”

  “That must have been a great feeling.”

  “It was the most exciting night of my life up to that point.” Her smile faded. The pageant had been a triumph, but her fairytale ending was more worthy of the Grimm brothers than Disney.

  Trevor had been one of the judges and had pursued her afterward, casually at first and then with relentless determination after she’d graduated. At the time, it had seemed romantic.

  “I’m not surprised you won the crown or Miss Congeniality. Not only do you have killer looks, but you have a way with people.”

  She blinked in the darkness. “I do?”

  “We were all determined to be as unwelcoming as possible when you showed up at the garage. Wyatt and Jackson like you and look where I ended up.”

  “Asking me perform an oil change was low.”

  “You could have owned up to the fact you didn’t know how.”

  “Then you would have won. I couldn’t let you see how intimidated by you I was.”

  His hand in her hair tightened, and he rolled to the sid
e, leaving them facing off. “You’re not afraid of me now, are you?”

  The question rumbled with an importance emphasized by his tense body. Was she afraid he’d physically hurt her? No. But her heart was tender and unprotected where he was concerned. She didn’t trust him not to trample it. No way was she brave enough to lay those truths between them.

  “I was never afraid of you. Just a teensy bit intimidated at first. But then I realized instead of a raging grizzly bear, you’re more of a cuddly teddy bear.”

  “A teddy bear?” He rolled them until he was on top of her and ground his hips against her. “Cuddly?”

  He was hard between her legs. Her body shut down any attempt to stay nonchalant. Her back arched and her nipples tightened with the friction against his chest. “Okay, a teddy bear who carries a big stick.”

  Her ringtone cut through his laughter. They both looked out in the darkness, still and waiting.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Her phone rang again, and she cursed herself for not muting it.

  “You want to get that?” he asked before dropping to nuzzle her ear. Her toes curled with an onslaught of a shiver.

  “No. I’m sure it’s nothing. Keep going with the demonstration of your non-cuddliness.”

  The call went to voice mail and only the sound of their mingled, quickened breathing filled the silence. The tip of his erection brushed her entrance. She should insist on a condom. Except she was on the pill, and he felt so damn good. She lifted her hips, seeking more.

  Her phone rang again.

  She rarely got calls unless they involved her investments, and those came during normal business hours. Was it an emergency? Her mother had her number although she hadn’t used it in a long time. It could be Megan. Had Trevor returned to cause trouble?

  She would never be able to relax and enjoy the havoc Mack was ready to unleash on her body until she checked who was calling and why. She dropped her hips and put her hand on his chest. With the slightest of pressure, he sighed and fell over on his back.

  The bedside light flicked on. Squinting, she scrambled off the bed, grabbed her purse, and fished her phone out of a side pocket. Between her lack of glasses and the bright light, she could barely make out the name on the screen—Megan.