Cocky F@#ker (Tangled Desires #3) (3 page)

“Fuck me, huh?” He pauses with his back still turned to me.

“Yeah.” I swear I’m trying to say it in a way that sounds like I want him gone, but my voice is all breathy, like maybe I mean
Yeah, fuck me
. “Fuck you, Mace.”

Shit.

He must catch that little quiver that gives me away, because he spins on his heel, his jaw tight as he covers the distance between us in one gigantic step, picking me up and tossing me onto the counter. His mouth is on mine, sucking and licking and biting as he grasps my shirt and yanks at the fragile material until it gives in to his demand and rips.

“What the hell are you doing?” I try to sound harsh, but the only thing harsh is our breathing in the otherwise quiet house while I attack his mouth. I shouldn’t be doing this, I shouldn’t let him get to me the way he does, but I’m drunk off his kiss. My entire body is buzzing with pleasure.

“Let’s say I slipped. That I fucking slipped and landed right between your legs.” He grasps my knees and thrusts them apart, stepping between them.

Grabbing the waistband of his pants, I yank him to me. A solid wall of heat and hardness that has me moaning into his mouth. “You slipped and your cock just happened to land in my pussy.”

“Yeah.” He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down on it hard enough that the pain curls with the need to have him. “It doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
I’ll come before he gets inside me at this rate. The zip on his pants drags down with a quick rush of clicks. “Not a thing. In fact, it never happened.”

“None of it.” He shoves me back, my head bumping against the side of the faucet.

I’m mildly appreciative for the fact I’m semi drunk right now while he pulls my shorts down. Thank God for stretchy elastic. “I hate you, you fucker.”

And I do. I hate everything about him that makes me want him to hurry up and get inside me, knowing full well that this never, ever ends well for us.

“Feeling’s mutual, Hells, but I have to say, I like these panties.” Obviously not that much since he rips them from my body. Then he’s hauling me up against him, one hand tangling my hair in his fist while he attacks my mouth, his shoulder rolling while he does something else with his other hand.

I tug the button free on his pants and shove my hand in his boxer briefs, wrapping my fingers around his cock as I drag them down enough to free him. “Shut up and fuck me.”

He hisses between his teeth, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure as his erection pulses in my palm. He rips his mouth from mine, a condom materializing between two fingers. “Believe me, I’m going to plunge my cock inside you until we both fucking cum, as soon as I wrap it.”

I raise a brow as he tears open the packet. “You carry condoms now?”

He takes a moment to roll it down before he grips my hips and yanks me to him with a grunt. “Do you think I’m going to trust you on something like birth control? That’d take conviction you’ve always seemed to lack.”

If I cared about what he thought of me his words would sting, but it’s only a physical attraction. “Probably a good thing you wear a condom, anyway. It’s not like I know where you’ve been.”

With a strangled cry, I suck my breath in between my teeth as he pushes inside me. The friction is a delicious bit of pleasure as he fills me.

“Well, I wouldn’t want any repercussions now.” He pauses for a second, but I don’t want this to last.

I don’t want to talk about the could of, would of, should of, of our mistakes. I want him to move inside me until I cum. After this I’ll learn from my mistakes. I swear on all that’s holy I’ll never let him get to me again. But right now I’m going to enjoy every damn second. “Make me cum, Mace.”

A feral gleam in his eyes, his chest rumbles with a groan as his fingers bite into my ass, and he pounds into me. He hits the spot that’s desperate and aching for him. Every damn stroke. Over and over.

I whimper into his mouth, my nails digging into his shoulders as I bounce on his cock, my clit hitting the base of his erection with each movement, until it’s throbbing. My pussy clenches around him. I cry out, something more of a scream, as I hit the beginning of my orgasm.

“That’s it,” he whispers in my ear, deep and low, only serving to drive me on. “You always were so damn perfect on my cock.”

That’s when I cum. A shuddering, pulsating mess of pleasure as I drag him over the edge with me.

Then he’s pulling out, tugging the condom off and tying the end of it before he drops it in the trash. “We’re going to have to find a way to be friends, you know.” He does up his zip and retrieves my shorts, sliding them up my legs before lifting me off the counter. “Since I’m sticking around.”

“For now.” I jerk away from him. This part is the hardest. This is where he fools me every damn time, when he’s pretending to be considerate and nice. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a nice bone in his body, well, unless I count the one I was riding minutes ago. “We both know you won’t stay.”

His jaw goes tight, sharp like glass. “Whatever you want to think, Hells. We’ll see how that pans out for you when I’m still here a year from now.”

“You won’t even be here in the morning,” I yell at his back as he leaves the kitchen.

His full-bodied laugh grates on my nerves, as he tosses himself backward onto the couch and stretches out, his hands tucked under his head. “Actually, sweet cheeks, I’m going to be right here on your sofa, until Tommy gets his ass out of your bed.”

“Bastard,” I mutter to myself as I take the stairs and head up to bed. Even a few hours is far too long to have him around.

Tom’s still stretched out across the mattress. Damn him for passing out when I want my bed to myself. I need the time to regroup.

Normally, it doesn’t bother me having my best friend there. I’m far more used to it than I should be, since we’ve been jumping in and out of each other’s beds since we were kids. But it’s comfortable. I don’t ever have to worry about him trying to make it anything more, and he doesn’t either. I think both of us need that. The platonic connection where it’s not about anything more than keeping each other company in the dark.

I wish it was like that with Mace. The man snaps his fingers and I practically fall over myself for another moment of his attention. It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic. How am I going to deal with him if he stays in Reverence like he’s threatening to?

Screw it.
I find a pair of cotton shorts and a singlet to change into, before I sprawl out beside Tom. No, Mace won’t stay. There is no way in hell he’s back in Reverence for good. Everything will go back to normal as soon as he leaves again. I’m just going to have to find a way to get along with him in the meantime.

Mace

Draped over the couch, I stare at the ceiling. Everyone went out. My sister, Claire, and my brother from another mother, Razer, hightailed it to God knows where as soon as breakfast was done. I don’t know why Claire would think getting on the back of a bike after she spent all morning throwing up and sounding like a dying cat is a good idea. But then, I don’t know why jogging in the middle of summer with a hangover, like Tommy’s doing right now, is a good idea, either.

At least they’re doing something. They have fucking lives to live.

I’ve got more than enough money to take up residence on this couch for the majority of summer, but I was never good at staying still, so finding employment is something I’m going to have to consider sooner rather than later. First, though, I have to find a way to adjust to being a civilian.

Leaving the military wasn’t exactly my life plan. In fact, it’s the opposite of what I was going to do, but then things have a way of panning out differently to what you expect. I learned that a long time ago.

So, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the shadow images burned onto my retinas is, for the moment, the only plan I’ve got.

That is until Chelsea strolls in the front door. “Tommy or Claire around?”

“Nope. Tommy’s taken the dog for a run, and Little Bit’s with Razer.” Sitting up, I run my gaze over her, from those legs that were wrapped around me last night to the thin white cotton top that does absolutely nothing to hide the way her nipples harden while I watch.

“Eyes up here, dickhead,” she mutters. When I lift my gaze, she’s glaring at me, but her face is all flushed, like she’s enjoying the way I’m eating her up with my eyes.

Of course, that makes me think about getting between her legs again. My mouth on her pussy while she cums for me. Because last night was nothing more than an appetizer, enough to whet the palate, but I sure as hell haven’t had my fill of her yet. “I’m just admiring my sexy as hell wife.”

She sucks air between her teeth. I can hear the slight whistle as I get up and cross the room to get to her. “That is totally inappropriate. What we did. It didn’t mean anything. It was a stupid joke. That’s all.”

Maybe it was to her. But I’m not laughing. “A joke, huh? So what’s the punch line?”

“You didn’t stick around to find out,” she snaps.

Touché.
Not that I had a choice but to go back when I got the call. I would have stayed and found a way to sort shit out if I could have. Wish I had. Then I wouldn’t see that kid’s face every time I shut my eyes.

“Is that what you’re so pissed about? I don’t recall you being there when I woke up in my suite, alone.”

“Because it was a mistake.” She scowls, crossing her arms over her chest, which pushes her tits up and closer together. “We were drunk. I can’t believe I let you talk me into it in the first place.”

I’ll give her that. I’d been having a few drinks while waiting for my eldest brother, Rush’s show to finish. She’d been there for a friend’s bachelorette party. We’d both been enjoying ourselves a little too much. But I remember that night clearly, catching sight of her across the room as she wandered between the craps tables. When her gaze had finally landed on me it was like she was seeing a ghost. Her eyes had grown large, as a slow smile broke across her features.

That would have been enough. But she’d forgotten all about her friends as she’d taken a few shaky steps in my direction, and then she’d all but run into my arms, or rather jumped into my arms and planted her tongue firmly in my mouth as if she missed me, while whatever she was drinking spilled down my shoulder, a cold trickle of wetness that was better than any pinch I could have given myself to tell me I wasn’t dreaming.

Okay, she’d been drunk, and I’d been so incredibly lost in the feel of her tight body pressed up against me, the sweet taste of her lips on mine, and the sentimental bullshit of being welcomed home the way I always fantasized about that I didn’t think twice when we ended up in a tiny chapel with an Elvis impersonator pronouncing us husband and wife.

“Now that I think about it, I’m not sure it wasn’t you who convinced me. You were pretty fucking eager to get me into bed with you.”

“You are such a pain in the ass. Why on earth would I have been the one to try and convince you? You barely talked to me for an entire year before you left for the marines.” She rolls her eyes in exasperation. “If I’d been thinking straight I obviously never would have agreed to it. It was the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made.”

I glance down at the thin gold chain that hangs around her neck and dips between her tits, while she finishes telling me how I’m the biggest mistake of her life. And she means every word of it. That’s part of the reason I couldn’t talk to her back then when she returned from running after my brother. Not because I didn’t want to, but what was there to say after she chose Rush over me? Even though he hadn’t wanted her, even though they were over, I was just a mistake. A moment of insanity.

“Stupidest mistake, huh?” I’d like to say I agree with her, but I don’t. I tried for a while there. Before Vegas. Before I left home. But my biggest mistake was something else entirely. Leaning in a little closer, I hook my finger under the filigree and tug at the strand of gold so I can watch it slide over her skin. “That’s not what I’d call it.”

She turns her face away, refusing to look at me, and swallows. “I don’t care what you think, Mace.”

The fact that we spent a good couple years in each other’s company when we were younger means I can read her pretty well, and I know she doesn’t dodge my gaze because she’s avoiding confrontation. Chelsea was always a face-things-head-on kind of girl. It was part of the reason she fit so well with the Hadleys, even after Rush left.

When she makes this tiny little
hmm
sound and presses her lips together to wet them, it makes my dick twitch. I love how even when she’s trying so hard to ignore me, she can’t help but give away the fact I can make her melt so fucking easily. “That’s why you couldn’t wait to welcome me home with wide open legs last night? If you’re here for a repeat performance I’m more than happy to let you ride my cock again. All you have to do is say the word.”

She steps back, remembering to glare at me this time as though I’m mud on the bottom of her shoe. But she’s still failing, since she’s staring at the obvious tent in my shorts. “Do you always have to be so rude?”

“You’re the one who’s staring at my package. My eyes are up here, wifey.”

That gets her attention, and she hisses. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your anything. Tell Tommy I’ll be back later, when I don’t have to deal with you.”

“Fine.” I chuckle. There’s always been some perverse pleasure in watching Chelsea get all riled up. Something about the color that heats her cheeks and the way her tits rise and fall. It’s not much different from watching her get aroused. “Famous last words, Hells?”

“Sure.” She reaches for the door handle. “I will never sleep with you again. And I will never, ever be your wife. I’m going to go get our sham marriage dissolved as soon as I can file the paperwork on Monday.”

When she yanks open the door, I have to laugh. Tommy stands on the other side, foiling any dramatic exit she was planning to get away from me.

Sinking onto the couch, I go back to staring at the ceiling as the two of them go out on the deck. I can still hear her voice. The slight irritation that’s there because of me.

No, nothing much changes. I’m beginning to get that. In the four years I’ve been gone since I married Chelsea Taylor I haven’t been able to forget about her. Last night just made me want more of her on my cock. And today reminded me of how much I like to get under her skin.

When I was riding toward Reverence yesterday, I thought I knew what I was going to do about Chelsea fucking Taylor. Sure, I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life, but getting the marriage absolved and nailing shut the lid on that particular mishap had seemed like a logical step.

Except now, I’m not so sure. Maybe I do have a plan after all.

Chelsea

“You look a little frustrated.” Tom leans on the wooden railing of the deck, his chest and biceps slicked with sweat from his run, and guzzles the bottle of water he snatched on our way through the kitchen. “Something going on?”

“Why on earth were you running in this heat?” I plunk down on the end of the picnic bench.

“Sweating out the toxins.” He grins and dumps the rest of the water over his head, letting it dribble down his face and shoulders.

“You’re such a show pony.”

“And you are really bad at changing the topic.” He narrows his gaze on me. “So what’s going on?”

I tap my fingers on the table. Telling Tom about Mace isn’t something I have any intention of doing. After all, I’ve been keeping this secret from him, from all the Hadleys, for a decade now. And there’s absolutely no point in rehashing the past. Not even if minutes ago it was standing in the living room with a rather impressive bulge that had my mouth watering despite my best intentions. “It’s just your brother. Him, coming home. It’s surprising.”

“Sure is.” The bottle crunches as he squashes it between his hands and then shoots it at the trashcan. It bounces on the rim before dropping out of sight. “But you two seemed to be getting along last night.”

Until you passed out. Then we were
really
getting along.
“You don’t know the half of it.”

“And now? Is he being a dick?” He shoves off the railing and perches on the edge of the table beside me. “Do you want me to say something to him?”

“No.” I squeak, answering a little too enthusiastically. That would lead to Mace thinking he was getting to me, which I don’t need. If he’s going to stay like he says he is then he’s right about us needing to find a way to be friends again.

We were once. All the Hadley boys, and me, and then Claire later on.

“You never did tell me what happened between you after Rush left.” Tom’s staring at me, and I have to concentrate on removing the cap from my water so I can choke some down.

I dated Rush, but fell for Mace.
“I don’t know. After Rush left Mace started acting like a jackass.”

That much is true. After the night we spent coiled around each other in the barn, I knew things could never go back to the way they had been, and I hadn’t wanted them to. That’s why I’d had to go after Rush. Maybe he hadn’t had the common decency to break up with me himself, but I didn’t care about that so much as telling him about my feelings for Mace. That as hard as I’d tried to keep from falling for his brother I hadn’t been able to help it. I didn’t want him finding out from someone else, didn’t want it to come between them.

But I hadn’t gotten to tell Mace that, not that it would have mattered anyway. I’d been nothing but a pair of open legs. I doubt he even remembers that night, or why we settled into the more comfortable role of frenemies. It’s been so long now, I shouldn’t remember it either, but I do. For some reason I can’t shake it off.

“What are you talking about?” Mace joins us, giving me a side grin as he plunks himself down beside me, so close his body brushes against mine with a little static charge that makes my skin goosebump.

“I was asking Chelsea why you guys stopped being friends back when we were all still in high school,” Tom says.

“Did we stop being friends, Chelsea?” Mace raises an eyebrow. “Here, I thought we were much closer than
just
friends.” His hand lands on my knee under the table, and the sudden touch makes me jump. “I thought we were family.”

I glare at him, but it doesn’t stop him from sliding his palm up my thigh, little tingles developing everywhere he’s touching. I want to tell him to stop it. I want to take his hand and rip it off my leg, except his fingers are pressing into my flesh, reminding me of the way he yanked me to him last night, and for some reason I can never get enough of that sensation. “You’re like the big brother I never wanted.”

“Never wanted? Now, I’m sure that’s not true.” He smirks. He freaking smirks at me, and makes this sound in his throat, the sound he makes when he’s cocky as fuck about something. “In fact…”

Oh my God, I can’t let him tell Tom what really happened. Not after all this time. It was so long ago it shouldn’t even matter, but I don’t know how any of them would take the fact I jumped into bed with Mace the night Rush left town. Especially since I am still not willing to admit that I’d had feelings for him back then.

I jump up from the table, careful to stomp my foot down on his, and watch as that stupid smile slides right off his face.
High heels 1, Cocky Fucker 0.

“I’m sorry, did I stand on your foot?” I press my lips together to keep from grinning. “I’ve got to go meet my sister for lunch.”

I make it to the front door before Mace catches up with me. “Hold your horses, Hells. I wasn’t going to tell him the real reason you and I stopped being friends.”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what it looked like you were about to do.” I spin around to face him, but I probably shouldn’t have. He crowds me back, his face right up against mine, so close I can smell the scent of his body wash. Something masculine and spicy that tickles my nose and has me wanting to inhale deeply.