Mad Love

by Ashlyn Mathews

  26

  Blaise

  “Maddox, this is wonderful.”

  We’re lounging on a bed beneath a cabana. The ocean is a stone throw away. After we made love in the alley and then again back at the penthouse as a show of his apology for making love to me in the alley, Maddox jetted me off to his private island in Belize.

  “And you shouldn’t have indulged me. Fuck, Blaise, your first time shouldn’t be in an alley.”

  He pours me a glass of cider. I reach for his mojito and take a sip. He tsks.

  “You’re not legal to drink yet.” He takes back his drink, and putting his mouth where my lips were, he drains his glass.

  “What’s five weeks, anyway?” I ask, watching him as he watches me over the rim of the glass.

  “The difference between twenty and twenty-one, legal and illegal.”

  I slide down my sunglasses and peer at him above the rims. “I bet you didn’t follow the rules.”

  “You’re right; I didn’t.”

  “But you’ll hold me to them?”

  “Jesus, Blaise, let it go already.”

  “Only if I can have a drink.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “Wisdom has nothing to do with wanting a fruity alcoholic drink.”

  “Fuck’s sake, baby, you could be pregnant. We didn’t use a condom our first time, and I certainly haven’t gloved up every time after that.”

  Which is a lot.

  We’re the only two people on the island. The staff made sure the fridge was well stocked before they left. The seaplane won’t be returning for us until the end of the week. On our flight here, Maddox let slip his plan of putting together a birthday bash for me. He was so excited, he also let slip that he’ll be surprising me on my birthday.

  “What is it?” I asked, pulling him in for a kiss and kissing him so ardently, I hoped he would slip some more. But he caught on fast. “Not telling,” he said. Then he proceeded to take me to the bedroom on the plane and kiss me from head to toe. After he made love to me, he declared we are now officially a part of the mile high club. That guy of mine.

  “You’re right,” I say, feeling stupid for not thinking over the possibility of a pregnancy. “I’ll call my doctor’s office. It’s not too late to get on birth control.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  He sits, and swinging his legs over the side of the lounge chair, he waits for my answer with his hands tented over his mouth. A lock of dark hair falls forward and brushes his dark brow. I sit and, facing him, swipe aside the piece of hair with my fingertip.

  He grasps my hand and drops a kiss dead center on my palm.

  “I like that you ditched the gloves when around me.”

  Only with him do I put aside my pieces of armor.

  “Like when you touch me skin on skin.”

  “Only with you, Maddox.”

  “Exclusive?”

  “Isn’t that what marriage is? Or do we still have a business arrangement?”

  “That’s up to you, baby.”

  “Do we model our marriage after your parents’, mine, or Cillian’s?”

  After we made love back at the penthouse, I told Maddox of my kidnapper’s demands. One confession led to another. I’m a McCabe. Cillian is my father. I haven’t told him Granger is my half-brother. I want to tell Granger that news first.

  “Our marriage will be what we make of it.”

  He didn’t answer my question. If he’d asked me the same question, I would say I want a marriage like the parents who raised me. Committed. Faithful. Loving. Supportive. My father took in a child who wasn’t his, not only to help Cillian, but to bring happiness to a woman he called the love of his life.

  I recline back on the lounger and stare at the ocean. I brought Maddox to heel. Got him to make love to me. Wasn’t revulsed by skin on skin. Cried for what I missed out on when I withheld my touch from others. I can stand to touch him and will let him touch me with his bare hands on my bare skin to our hearts’ content.

  But can I hand over to him my heart?

  I haven’t asked him the questions that has me doubting his feelings for me. Did you sleep with Evie Lawson? Is she your physical release while you court your first love, Kristine?

  “Babe?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You didn’t answer my questions. Are we exclusive? Birth control or not, I won’t be raising another man’s child, Blaise. Accidents do happen.”

  “You’re the only one I want.”

  But will I be expected to share him with other women? Raise his lovers’ children?

  “And the guy from the nightclub, the one with his hand on yours?”

  “He’s my personal bodyguard.”

  “I’m the only man who gets to guard your body.” He stands and tugs down his swim shorts. His erection proudly rests against his six-pack abs. “Strip, baby.”

  I tip my chin. “Bossy.”

  He smirks. “Please.”

  “Better.”

  I undo the clasp on my strapless bikini top. Discard the bottoms. He sits and pats his thighs.

  “Straddle me.”

  I take my time getting up. Make a show of stretching out the kinks in my back from doing nothing all day other than enjoying the sunshine, Maddox’s rock-hard body, and our conversations that run the gamut of favorite food, to what pet we’d get if we had a huge house and property, to the kinds of movies we like to watch.

  “Blaise,” he growls, and reaches for me.

  I sidestep his outstretched hand. My boobs jiggle. He groans.

  “You’re going to be the death of me.”

  God, I hope not. “Take that back.”

  “Take what back?”

  I straddle his thighs. “That I’ll be the death of you.”

  “It’s a saying.” He slips a finger inside me. Circles his thumb on the slippery knot.

  “It’s bad juju.”

  He chuckles. Groans when I nip and suck on his bottom lip. He pinches my ass cheek. I raise my hips, and wet and ready, I grab ahold of his erection and slip his length and thickness inside me. He fills me full. We’re a perfect fit. Our moans and groans are in tandem. We’re panting. I need more. God, I need more. I drag my nose through his hair. He smells good, a mix of salt from the ocean and salt from his sweat. I kiss his forehead. Drop kisses along the side of his face and down his jawline.

  “You taste so good. You inside me feels so good.” I go up and down on his cock. Cup his head between my palms. Deepen the kiss.

  His fingers knead my ass cheeks. Clasp my hips. He guides me up and down his cock. I need to see him. See how much he wants me. I break off the kiss. We’re panting. His gorgeous blue-green eyes darken to the point they are one uniform color—aqua. Oh, God, he has such beautiful eyes. My eyes flicker to his mouth. And those lips. Full. Gentle one minute. Rough the next, devouring and consuming me. He kisses with his being. Doesn’t hold anything back. I like that about him.

  He’s generous.

  Makes me come before he does.

  What’s the best is when we come together.

  I want to be equally generous.

  I lift my hips until he’s half out of me. I stroke up and down his length with my fingers. He closes his eyes. Draws in a long breath.

  “That feels so good, baby.”

  My arousal slicks my fingers. He likes tasting me. I want to give him what he likes. I pull down his bottom lip with my fingers. Slide my fingers into his mouth. He sucks my arousal off. I moan, and seating myself on his erection until he stretches and fills me full, I move my hips back and forth, up and down.

  His eyes snap open. His gaze hangs on my eyes, my parted lips, my breasts, my stomach. He lingers on my stomach. There are unanswered questions in his eyes. I see the gears cranking in his head. He’s thinking too hard.

  “Let go, Maddox. Don’t think. Just feel.”

  I grasp his hands and set them on my hips.

  “Make us feel good. Us. You. Me.”
r />   He guides me up and down his cock. His length strokes my inner walls. His thickness fills me full. I clench my inner muscles. Groaning, he ups the pace.

  “Ride me, baby.”

  I grab on to his shoulders, and digging my nails into his flesh, I ride him hard. We stare into one another’s eyes. He caresses up my arms. Goosebumps rise on my flesh. The pressure between my legs builds. The throbbing intensifies, and my toes curl. I’m ready. Is he?

  “Fuck, baby. Come for me. I’m close.”

  I come on command. It never ceases to amaze me how my body gives in to his every whim. He touches me, and I react. My heart rate speeds up. My sex throbs and weeps. My head spins from his nearness and the thought of him filling me with his thickness and length. He comes with a grunt. I settle my forehead on his and look into the most beautiful eyes I’ve come across.

  “I have your answers. Exclusive. No birth control.”

  He grasps my chin. Jerks my face to his. Ravishes my lips with a kiss I feel straight to my soul.

  “You sealed your fate, Mrs. Stassi.”

  An undercurrent of defiance hums along my skin.

  Not so fast, husband of mine. I write my own destiny.

  27

  Blaise

  “Let’s go pay our boy a visit.”

  I glance sidelong at my father. Do we have to? It’s the loudest thought in my head, drowning out my excitement at seeing my handsome husband dressed to the hilt in his form-fitting business suit.

  The moment we returned from our “honeymoon,” Maddox went back to his routine. Work in the morning. Time at the gym afterward. Dinner with me. During the week, we go for a nightly swim, then make love. On Saturday, we stayed up all day and went clubbing all night. He touches me. Makes me feel so alive on the dance floor with his eyes and hands on me only. He’s the only one I let touch me.

  I stare out the passenger-side window. The scenery of debilitated buildings, streets riddled with garbage, and guys my age smoking in front of the store fronts passes by in a blur. This week with Maddox has been great. I look forward to our next two months together. But what will happen when his fascination with me fades?

  Will he replace me with Evie?

  “Blaise?”

  “Sure, Cillian. Should I let him know we’re coming?”

  “Nah, sweetheart. We’ll surprise him.”

  Why do I have the gut feeling visiting Maddox at the site of his newest project is about something other than the element of surprise?

  “Have you thought over what you’d like for your birthday? Twenty-one. I can’t believe my little girl is all grown up.”

  “What’d I like is the truth, Cillian.”

  “Will you ever call me Father or Dad?”

  “Someday.” After I go through the grieving process of losing my parents, Jack and Violet Lexington, a second time. I was so certain they were my biological parents.

  “Fair enough. Ask your questions.”

  “Why didn’t the authorities inform me the corpse inside the coffin with me was Maya? It would’ve been easy to identify her using dental records or her DNA.”

  At least I believe it to be so. I watch a lot of true crime shows. Something else Maddox and I have in common.

  “Bribery.”

  “You paid people off to keep the truth from me? How could you?” I turn in my seat. Have this urge to shake the living daylights from him for messing with my life.

  “I had a handful of ex-colleagues to deal with before I could risk exposing your identity and Maya’s. Granger came to me. Demanded the truth. Said he was indebted to you for saving his life.”

  “Staged. What you did was stage a drive-by shooting that didn’t happen between gang members who didn’t exist except for in your imagination. You orchestrated the meeting between Granger and me. Nothing was left to chance. It was all planned.”

  He has the nerve to clap.

  “You can call what I did anything you like, sweetheart. The fact of the matter is, you and your brother are my flesh and blood. He protected you all these years for me, his father. In memory of the mother who was taken from him too soon.”

  “You left him to be beat and starved in those homes the state sent him to.”

  “You’re wrong, Daughter. He learned to use his fist and his head. He is stronger for the experience. If he wasn’t, he’d be dead, and that, my dear, would be a tragedy and make him no son of mine. Same goes for you. You could’ve wasted away in despair. Refused to eat. Died a shadow of your defiant, independent self. Instead, you rose out of the flames like a phoenix. From the ground, buried alive in that coffin, you are reborn.”

  I sigh.

  “Are you done?”

  He laughs. “You’re unimpressed by my impressive speech.”

  “I’m tired of your manipulation.”

  “Would you prefer I give you a monthly allowance, a sprawling estate in Montana, and your own security detail?”

  “My grandfather didn’t manipulate. He was a generous man.”

  “He sheltered you. Indulged you. He cut off your wings with his billions, not giving you the chance to soar above the clouds like you used to.”

  “Like I used to? Have you been keeping tabs on me?”

  “Since Jack took you in.”

  “All these years you’ve been watching me and I never knew. Were you or your men there the night I was kidnapped? Did you ‘orchestrate’ my kidnapping?”

  “Never. I would never inflict that kind of pain on you. It was my words that drove Maya into that bastard’s arms. He knew my weakness, and my weakness is control over everything, including my children’s lives. Maya hated being controlled.”

  “We all do, Cillian. If you loved her, stop controlling what happens in my life.”

  The SUV parks in front of a high school. The men get out first. Hale is seated in the front passenger seat. He opens my door and extends his hand to me. Ever since what happened at the nightclub, he’s been moody. Calm and professional one minute. Brooding and possessive the next, just like now. His grip on my hand is tight as he helps me out of the SUV.

  His hand on the small of my back is possessive as he guides me to the school’s entrance. The other guards flank our sides or trail behind us, having our backs. The second SUV pulled into the lot soon after we parked. A third, filled with more men, waits in the parking lot. They’ll be on the lookout for any trouble, and will notify Shane, the head guard, right away.

  If Cillian keeps this up, traveling in a pack, the residents of this poor neighborhood will snap our pictures and sell the pictures to the tabloids for a quarter of a million or so. An idea pops into my head.

  While Cillian shakes hands with who I think is the principal, I pretend I’m rummaging in my bag for lip gloss, and rapid fire Collins a text message.

  Me: I’m at Seventh and Broadway. Get lots of shots of me with Cillian and his men. Sell them to the highest bidder

  Collins: Woo-hoo! Miss Moneybags is in the house

  Me: That’s MRS. Moneybags. I’m a married woman, remember?

  Collins: How could I forget? You’ve been gushing about that sexy guy of yours since returning from your honeymoon. Are you still on for Saturday’s party?

  Me: Of course. Remind me again how much the Stantons are paying?

  Collins: Ten thousand dollars

  Me: Up it to twenty.

  Collins: You’re getting greedy. I like. A lot. Okay, I’ll send them the new amount. Cross your fingers they’re willing to pay up. If they do, 20K will cover the cost of the party

  Good. Long term, I can’t imagine going from party to party and calling it making a living. I want to use my brain and not benefit monetarily from my kidnapping. Same with the pictures that Collins will be selling to the highest bidder. The pictures and the party are temporary fixes for a long-term problem.

  What do I want to do with the rest of my life?

  28

  Maddox

  “How long’s it been since you sat inside a school
cafeteria, Maddox?”

  “Last time was when we decided I should tag along for a full day of school with you as your cousin from Wisconsin.” I bite into my dry hamburger and chase my lunch down with bottled water.

  “Why did we pick Wisconsin of all places?”

  Kris’s green eyes sparkle. She knows the story but wants to hear me retell it. It’s what we’ve been doing this week. I spend lunch with her. We reminiscence. She hints at us getting back together. I change the subject to a topic that makes her less than thrilled to spend more time with me—my wife.

  Waiting for my answer, she takes a sip of her soda. I stare at her mouth. She sets her soda down. Her fingers toy with mine. I hone in on her eyes. They shine with a different emotion. Hope.

  Her eyes used to fill my dirtiest teenager’s dreams. Now, all I dream about is a girl with one eye green and one eye blue.

  “We decided on Wisconsin the night I snuck into your room. You had a US map on the wall. I had a knife in my pocket. I threw it and the tip embedded on Wisconsin.”

  “What’d you do afterward?”

  Her voice is low, breathy.

  “I gave you your first kiss.” We were fifteen.

  “What’d I give you two years later, for your birthday?”

  “Your virginity.”

  Jesus, the good old days of thinking I knew what I wanted and who would be in my life for the long term. Until everything came crashing down when Kris broke things off between us.

  “Why’d you leave and without me, Kris?”

  She’s been skirting the question. We met for lunch at our favorite diner the day Blaise was with Cillian. We’ve met for lunch every day since I’ve been on the job site, taking my time getting to know the business owners and the people who live and work in this community.

  My vision isn’t mine any longer. Their vision is what’s important. Blaise taught me that through our talks while lazying around in the cabana or taking nightly strolls on the beach.

  The dark doesn’t scare her. She said the moon and the stars will always be high in the sky. That darkness cannot mask the light. The light is hidden but not lost. But vision is something she did lose in the darkness, and metaphorically, she would hate for me to rob the people of their vision. Our vision guides us. Gives us hope. She hopes through my handing over the design to the people, I’ll give them hope for a better life.