“Until the day I fuckin’ died.”
I couldn’t believe that, didn’t even want to and my mouth dropped open before I snapped it shut and asked, “Why?”
“Because I never wanted you to look at me the way you’re lookin’ at me right now.”
Shitsofuckit.
I didn’t know how I was looking at him and tried to rearrange my face and shift us into safer waters. “How did you get involved with Lee?”
“Luke knew me, we worked together. He found out I was out, he told Lee to recruit me and now I’m here.”
“Luke? He –?”
“Yeah.”
“Does Ava know?” I asked.
“As much as she can know,” he answered. “Which I figure is about as much as you know.”
We stared at each other a few beats then I dropped my head and shifted the sheet tighter around me, thoughts tumbling around in my brain.
I wasn’t real y sure but al my thoughts seemed to be about the same thing.
Mainly that I knew, without a doubt, that my luck had changed.
After having a life of no love for so long, finding a guy who could love so deep that he’d sacrifice everything to avenge someone he cared about felt effing great.
That might make me a freak but I didn’t care.
I wasn’t going to say it out loud (not again) but, for as long as she had him, Caitlin Mason was one lucky girl.
And now, so was I.
“I’l take that as your answer.” I heard Mace say and my head snapped up to see he was moving to his boots.
“What’re you doing?” I asked.
He didn’t look at me when he answered, “Leavin’.”
“Why?” His head shot up and I kept talking. “Okay, so, I can’t pretend this doesn’t freak me out, because, erm… it’s freaky and intense but wel … that was then and this is now.
At least I know why you’re so effing moody al the time and why you have such a short fuse. I mean, the whole throwing the phone against the wal gig was freaky too but now I get it and –”
I stopped talking because he switched directions and was walking toward me.
“What’re you doing now?” I asked.
He didn’t answer and right before he made it to me, he dipped his shoulder like the footbal players do when they’re going to make a tackle. It went into my bel y and then I was going up.
“Mace!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”
He stalked (yes, stalked!) toward the bed, did a bump with his shoulder and then I was flying through the air. I landed on my back on the bed with a soft bounce and then Mace was on me.
I pushed against him. “Mace, we aren’t done talking.” His face was in my throat and his hands were tugging at the sheet. “We fuckin’ wel are,” he growled.
“There’s more to say.”
His head came up and he looked at me just as I heard the sheet tear.
“You stil love me?” he asked.
My eyes narrowed. “What kind of question is that?” I snapped.
“Answer it.”
“I wil not, it’s –”
“Answer it! ” he barked and I went stil at the ferocity in his voice.
Then I whispered, “Of course I do.”
“Then we’re done talkin’. I’m gonna fuck you until I’ve erased everything I’ve said. Until the only thing you can think of is my cock inside you and my hands and mouth on you.
Until I hear that fuckin’ voice of yours tel ing me you love me.
I’m gonna fuck you until I know it’s me you want, despite al this shit, and I don’t care if it takes a fuckin’ week.”
“That’l take, like, two seconds,” I told him and watched as something crossed his face, something that looked a lot like surprise. Then I announced, “Wel ! There it is! Done!
And you didn’t even have to fuck me.”
He stared at me.
“But you can stil fuck me if you want to,” I went on.
He kept staring at me.
“Like now. Fucking me now would be good,” I prompted.
He kept staring at me.
“Hel o? Kai Mason? Are you in the room?” I cal ed and when he kept staring at me, I kept talking. “Cal ing Kai Mason, girlfriend needs a good fucking, right… about…
now.”
That’s when he spoke.
And this is what he said.
“God, I love you.”
Then he fucked me.
*
Even though he didn’t have to, Mace fucked me until he erased everything from my head but what he wanted there. Then he did it again.
Then he did it again.
Then he left me facedown in bed, pul ed the torn sheet up to my waist, took Juno out, came back, took a shower, ate a piece of coffee cake and came back to the bed.
I hadn’t moved a muscle. I snoozed a bit but mostly I listened to his noises in my house.
When he sat on the bed and shifted the hair out of my face and off my shoulder so he could lean in and kiss my neck, I asked (my voice messed up because my face was scrunched in the pil ow), “How can you move around?”
“Kitten, you need to get in better shape.”
“I’m going to have to cancel tonight’s gig.”
“You’l recover by then.”
“You tore my sheet.”
“I’l buy you a new one.”