Give Me Hell (Give Me #4)



My chest burns with fury and my body aches with the animalistic urge to thrust. The crumbs Mac offers me aren’t enough. It’s never enough. She takes too much and gives too little, and it’s ripping me apart. There’s no backing down now. Not anymore. Not even with me buried inside her, the heat of her body pulsing around my cock.

When Mac doesn’t answer, I pull out and drive back in, ignoring the sharp bolt of pleasure that spikes through me. “Tell me!” I roar, desperate, because if she walks away, all the light in the world will die. Don’t leave me in the dark.

Her jaw locks tight but a fat tear spills over and falls down her cheek. “I’m not walking away,” she whispers, her voice thick. “I need you.” Emotion clogs my throat as I watch another tear fall following the trail of the one before it. “If I had to live without you, I wouldn’t survive it.”

And I realise it in that moment. She’s not the one who’s always walking away. It’s me. Goddammit, it’s me. I grab her head in my hands, her hair like golden silk beneath my fingertips as I drag her forehead to mine.

Another rap comes at the bathroom door. My mouth presses in a thin line and her lips curve at the frustration in my expression. She cups my jaw, her fingers sliding along the stubbled skin in a soothing gesture. “I’ve got this.” Turning her head toward the door, she calls out, “Get lost, Henry.”

Goddamn, Mac is sexy. My cock pulses inside the heat of her body, and I draw out nice and slow, the pace a delicious torment.

The sound of a throat being cleared floats gently toward us as I sink slowly back inside. “It’s ahh Quinn.”

Mac lets loose a long, slow hiss, and it’s my turn to grin. “Relax, Princess, I’ll get this one,” I tell her, and over my shoulder call out, “Get lost, Quinn.”

Quinn’s intake of breath is sharp and clearly audible.

Mac snickers. Her laughter tickles my skin as she buries her head in my neck.

“Well holy shit,” we hear Quinn mutter, her voice fading as she walks away. When we’re both sure she’s gone, we don’t waste any more time. Mac’s mouth falls on mine, and I yank up her shirt. My hands grope at her lace-covered tits. Her nipples are peaked, and she kisses me as I pinch them both. Hard. Mac breaks away, her back arching.

I thrust again and she gasps a soft keening sound that sends hot shivers down my spine. “Harder,” she orders, even though she knows she doesn’t get to dictate terms when it comes to this.

My pace slows further, and her frantic hands find the globes of my ass. Her fingernails dig in deep. My voice is forceful. “Ask me nicely.”

“Please,” she begs, heat stealing over her cheeks.

The word is pretty on her lips, but I want more. I want her to see it too. I pull out and turn her around so she faces the mirror. Planting a hand in her back, I nudge her downward, forcing her ass to rise in the air. The cheeks are smooth, round, and bare to my gaze. Taking the root of my cock in hand, I push the fat tip just an inch inside as she grips the edges of the vanity.

I find her eyes in the mirror. “Say it again.”

“Please,” she whispers.

I thrust back in at the same time my palm comes down. The sound of a slap renders the air. Mac hisses and moans as I massage the reddened skin of her ass cheek.

“Jake,” she rasps. “They’ll hear us.”

“No they won’t,” I soothe. “Everyone is outside.”

But there’s no time to play like I want, so I abandon my restraint. Hard, aggressive thrusts push Mac again and again into the counter. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip and her lids close as she hangs her head.





MAC


Jake fists my hair and yanks my head back so all I can see in the mirror is him driving inside me, messy and hard as my orgasm builds.

His muscles are bunched tight, straining, and his breath comes in fierce pants.

“Jake,” I say on a long moan. His wicked gaze watches as pleasure burns through me like a raging inferno.

He groans and bows over my back, wrapping both arms around my middle like a manacle. “Baby,” he grunts as he bucks against me, coming with an unleashed power that shakes his entire body.

Jake holds me to him for a long moment. The side of his face is pressed against my back. The beat of his heart is frantic against my skin. I surrender to the sound and let it lull me for a minute. Then his head lifts. His dark eyes find mine as his lips touch my shoulder in a tender kiss.

Jake is two sides of a coin: wickedly formidable on one when he lets his rough side out to play, and irresistibly sweet on the other. When both sides combine like they’ve done today, it becomes a powerful force of nature I can’t withstand.

Amusement glitters in my expression. I like seeing him spent because of me. “Are we done here? Because I’ve got shit to do.”

Jake unlocks his arms from my middle and slowly straightens. “You’re so sweet.”

“If you want sweet,” I say to him in the mirror, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

“My bad.” He pulls out and reaches for the washcloth that’s folded neatly by the sink. “I guess I’ll go find some other girl to poke my cock into. I’m sure there are plenty of girls out there sweeter than you.”

I grab said cock in my palm and squeeze gently. “You could, but there’s a slight problem with your plan.”

Jake looks down at his dick in my grip before his gaze lifts to mine. He arches a brow. “Oh?”

“You don’t like them sweet.”

He gives me a cheeky grin and holds up both palms. “You got me.”

“I do,” I say, offering a grin of my own in return. “Literally.”

Jake shakes his head with amusement and unpeels my palm from his cock, replacing it with the washcloth. “Clean yourself up, Princess. You look like you just got royally fucked.”





My eyes are quick enough to spy Henry stuffing a fifty-dollar note in his pocket as I stalk inside the back study where he, Evie, and Quinn have congregated to resolve our current crisis.

“What’s going on?” I bark.

I take satisfaction in seeing the three of them jump. I know what they’re doing. Sneaky assholes. They know about me and Jake and are placing bets on our relationship. If they think I’m oblivious to what goes on in our little group, then I’m the Second Coming. Sometimes I think they forgot who they’re dealing with.

Resolving to corner Travis and find out the exact bet—because there’s no doubt it’s more than just the three of them involved—he can ante up a wad of cash on my behalf. Secretly.

Schooling the smirk that rises on my lips, I take the office chair Quinn just vacated and sit, giving them all an eyeball in turn.

“What about Grace?” Henry asks, referring to his younger sister.

I swivel my chair in his direction. “What about her?”

“She can play bass. I could give her a call?”

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