luckier.”
Then he was done talking and he kissed me, deep and wet and I was done talking too.
His mouth slid down my neck to my chest where he murmured, “You’re about to get lucky too.” Then his mouth slid down further then further then he spread my legs and his mouth was right there and, he was very right, I got lucky too.
After Eddie made me lucky with his talented mouth, he came up over me, slid inside me, pounded deep and he got even luckier (and so did I).
When we were done, he turned out the light, rol ed me so my back was to his front and he wrapped both arms around me. One went tight around my midriff; the other one went low, to cup me between my legs.
This was a new thing of Eddie’s; holding me this way after we’d made love. It started a few weeks ago after I agreed to marry him. It was intimate, possessive and somehow claiming even though I was already his.
I had to admit, I liked it.
“Chiquita?” Eddie cal ed when I was just about ready to fal asleep.
“Hmm?”
“It’s likely Stel a doesn’t know any of this shit.” My eyes opened.
Eddie went on, his voice holding a gentle warning, “It’s Mace’s to tel her.”
I didn’t say anything.
Eddie kept going. “You women talk. I’m askin’ you not to talk about this.”
“She should know,” I replied.
“She should but when he’s ready to tel her.”
“Eddie –”
He interrupted me, his voice firm, his arm and hand both tensed and I sucked in breath. “No, Jet.” I bit my lip.
Then I nodded.
I wouldn’t tel Stel a.
Unless I had to.
Chapter Ten
Demons
Stella
“Fuck,” Mace swore under his breath as we drove down the graveled drive next to Swen and Ulrika’s mansion.
I knew why he was cursing. It was four o’clock in the morning and I’d been shot at (again!). Mace had just spent the last hours of his life being held back from murdering the guy who shot at me (this made him unhappy, me relieved) and talking to police. Now, upon arrival home, we both could see Eric standing, his arms crossed on his chest and his feet planted wide, il uminated in the outside light that hung over the side door to the house.
I sighed.
Loudly.
Eric watched our approach and I saw that his hair was even messier than normal, probably from running his fingers through it. Even though the light wasn’t great, you could stil tel he was pissed.
I figured he knew what went down that night.
Effing hel .
This was not a good situation. I knew Mace was not in a chipper mood. He was wired and he was angry and Mace’s brand of angry was pretty effing scary.
I didn’t have the energy to deal with Mace’s scary brand of anger or Eric’s for that matter. I had a lot going on in my head. I hadn’t had a chance to process what happened onstage considering the fact someone nearly shot me (again!). I also hadn’t had the chance to avoid Mace in order to get my head together because I was too busy making cal s to check on the band who, by the way, were al freaked way the hell out but they were breathing which in my crazy-ass life at the moment I took as a boon.
Further, when Mace came to The Castle, I took one look at him and I knew it would be beyond stupid to pour oil on that fire. So when he ordered me (without a greeting, just walked into Daisy’s big room and said it, straight out) to get to the car, instead of mouthing off (which I real y wanted to do), I went to the car.
Now this.
Just in case you forgot, I’l remind you, my luck sucked.
Eric was approaching my side of the Explorer before Mace came to a ful stop. Once the car halted, he yanked my door open, reached in, released my belt and pul ed me out of the cab.
And now this!
As my boots hit the gravel, I started to say something.
What, I did not know but I didn’t get the chance to get anything out.
“Hands off,” Mace growled, rounding the hood of the SUV.
“Fuck you,” Eric replied, clearly and insanely not reading Mace’s scary-unhappy body language.
Lordy be.
“Eric,” I said softly, trying to pul my arm free (and failing) and thinking I should defuse the already heated situation.
Again, I didn’t get the chance. Mace spoke before I could.
“I’l say it one more time, Turner. Hands off.”
“And I’l say it one more time, Mason. Fuck you,” Eric returned, yanking me toward his metal ic-granite-colored Chevy Trailblazer.
Shitsofuckit!
Before I knew what was happening or I could utter a word, both men moved.
Fast.
I was thrown free of Eric. There was a scuffle and Mace and Eric ended the scuffle face-to-face, fingers curled into each other’s tees.
“Stop it!” I shouted, rushing forward and shoving between their bodies to separate them (this failed too, for your information). Stil , my intervention kind of worked. They both pushed off with their hands, each taking a step back but they continued the stare down.
Effing men.