MakeMeShiver (9 page)

“As much as I’d have liked to, no, I didn’t kill him.” She closed her eyes, balled her fists and decided it was time to confess. “I slept with Michael last night.”

Candice frowned, her perfectly arched, brushstroke eyebrows creasing. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I could have sworn you just said you slept with Michael.”

Hurt and anger combined, snapping her already teetering control. She should have woken up in Michael’s arms this morning, partaken in a recap of the fantastic sex they’d shared and had the opportunity to enjoy breakfast with him before they thanked each other and ended what never had the chance to start. That’s how one-night stands occurred with people you knew, right? It was only with strangers that you got the hell out of Dodge as soon as you woke up and realized the party was over.

“Damn it, don’t do this right now!” Lacey snagged the coffee pot and turned to the sink. “I know, okay? I get it. I fucked up. He got what he wanted and that’s that. You were right and I was wrong. There. Are you happy?”

“Hold up.” Candice took the pot from her and turned off the water. “Don’t put words into my mouth, and don’t go spouting off. As far as I knew you were dating Scott as of yesterday. Then this morning you bust into my house, demand coffee and tell me you spent the night with Michael. Since there’s only one Michael I can think of who fits the bill, I have a feeling there’s more going on here than a night of great sex.”

The fight left Lacey’s body. Screaming at Candice wasn’t the way to go, and technically she didn’t even have the right to be angry or upset with Michael. It had been a wonderful night but it was never meant to be more than that. He’d never lied to her or made false promises. It had been exactly what it was—two consenting adults sharing an extraordinary night together. She was just too enamored to accept it with dignity and tact, keep her mouth shut like she should have and move on.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Now that we have that settled,” Candice placed the filter inside the machine, “tell me what’s going on.”

So Lacey did, starting with Scott and Karen, working her way to the car wreck and consequent tow and finally revealing all of the lusty details of her night with Michael. It was if a dam had burst wide, lancing the wound so it could begin to heal. Each sentence was expelled in a rush, coming out faster and faster.

It wasn’t until Candice pulled her into a comforting hug that she realized she wasn’t just gabbing about her pain and anger, hurt and betrayal, hope and loss. She was doing something she hadn’t done in years.

Damn it all to hell.

She was crying.

Chapter Seven

He was going to kill Aly.

As Michael stood outside Candice’s apartment, pounding on the door, he lost any sense of sympathy he’d had for the woman. How could he feel sorry for her after he’d witnessed the devastation she’d caused? All he’d gotten was a glimpse of Lacey’s bloodshot eyes and blotchy, tear-stained cheeks before she’d slammed the door in his face, but it was more than adequate.

Fuck if the knowledge that he’d caused her suffering didn’t kill him.

It hadn’t taken him long to track Lacey down, considering Candice was her only friend in town. However, it was obvious more than enough time had passed for her to get well and truly upset. An argument was taking place just inside, Candice’s huskier voice bickering with Lacey’s obviously exhausted one. Candice didn’t want to draw attention to her apartment and Lacey didn’t want to speak to him. Not that he blamed her. Still, he wasn’t leaving until they hashed this out. Wounds of any kind were always worse when left to fester.

“I’m not leaving until you open the door.” He banged his fist in the center of the wood, using more force than necessary

“Damn it, Lacey.” Candice’s voice was muffled. “It’s ten o’clock in the morning! My neighbor will call the cops. She lives for this kind of shit!”

“I can’t talk to him right now,” Lacey said in a rush. “Tell him I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“I’m not leaving, Lacey,” he warned in a steely voice, loud enough for her to hear. “Like it or not, you’re going to hear me out. You owe me that after last night.”

“I owe you?
I fucking owe you
?”

More bickering took place before he heard feet stampeding toward the door. A chain rattled, the deadbolt slid free and suddenly he was face-to-face with a very livid Lacey.

“That’s rich, Michael. Who in the hell do you think you are?”

He didn’t answer and forced his way inside. She shrieked in outrage, pounding his shoulders with her balled fists.

“Get out, do you hear me? Get out!”

The moment the door was closed, he wrapped his arms around Lacey despite her outraged cursing and thrashing. He peered over her head and met Candice’s furious glare.

“Can we have some privacy?”

Candice folded her arms over her chest. “What makes you think you deserve that?”

“I’m here to explain and apologize.” He grunted when Lacey landed a hard blow to his ribs.

“You stay right where you are, Candy.” Lacey panted between kicks and slaps. “He’s not staying.”

“I wager I’ll be here as long as I like, darlin’.” He tightened his hold, trapping her against his chest.

“Damn it! Let go of me, you overbearing bastard!”

“I’m not letting go. You’re going to listen to what I came here to say.”

“The hell I am!” She landed a hard heel to his shin and kept squirming. “You’re going to walk out the door and hope it doesn’t hit you in the ass on the way out!”

A loud boom from the adjoining wall was accompanied by a furious bellow. “Keep it down or I’m calling the police!”

Lacey stopped struggling and Michael said a silent thanks to the pissed-off neighbor for intervening and making things easier. “I need to talk to you. If you want me to go after I’ve had my say, I will.”

“I don’t want to hear it. I want you to leave.”

“That’s tough shit, because I’m not going anywhere.” When she started to argue he asked, “Do you want the neighbor to call the cops?”

That seemed to get her attention. “Okay, fine,” she grumbled. “Let me go and we’ll talk.”

The minute his arms loosened, she lunged away and scurried across the room. She didn’t look at him as she slid into the large recliner next to the television, glanced at Candice and gave a curt nod.

Candice nailed him with a scathing look. “If you cross the line, you won’t have to worry about my neighbor. I’ll call the cops myself.”

He watched Candice walk down the hall. When he heard a door close, he released the breath he’d been holding and cautiously made his way to the recliner. Lacey was curled up in a protective ball, her knees tucked to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs. Long gone was the seductive vixen he’d played with, fucked until she couldn’t see straight and wrapped his body around when they drifted off to sleep. This was a woman who was defensive and on edge. The expressive face that told him so much the night before was no different now.

She might listen to what he said but her mind had already been made up.

He took a knee in front of her, desperate to touch her but unwilling to upset her further, and tried to remember what he’d planned to say.

“I can’t do this, Michael.” Her words were quietly spoken and even, the fight from earlier long gone. “I should have made things clear beforehand. I don’t do casual sex. It’s not my thing. Last night was wonderful but I’m not comfortable with your lifestyle, and after meeting your,” the pain she experienced as she struggled for the proper terminology was etched all over her face, “
slave
this morning, I know I don’t want to be.”

“That’s part of the problem. You don’t know anything about my lifestyle,” he said solemnly, inching closer. “I don’t have—or want—a slave.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t insult my intelligence. I met her. I talked to her. She offered to cook me breakfast for Christ’s sake.” He watched her grimace at the memory, as if it were the most reprehensible thing imaginable, and it was difficult to bite back a grin. She was not only adorable when she was angry, she was positively irresistible.

“I would never insult your intelligence, just as I would never insult you by bringing another woman into my home.” He placed his hand over one of her socked feet. “It’s true that I was involved with Aly, but the relationship ended long before I met you at Haddie’s. It’s been over for months.”

The confusion and doubt that flickered across her face were immediately replaced with a steely anger. “She had a key to your house.”

“No, she used the spare I keep under the flowerpot on the porch.”

Lacey pulled her foot away. “She called you Master.”

He sighed and gave her space. “Aly refers to all Doms as Master.”

“She didn’t just refer to any Dom. She referred to
you
as Master.” She started to rise, straightening her legs. “Why are we even discussing this? It was fun, we enjoyed ourselves, and now it’s over. End of discussion.”

“All right, that’s enough.” He grasped her feet and held them firmly, ensuring she couldn’t kick her way free. “You have every right to be upset, I’m not disputing that. But you’ve taken everything that’s happened this morning entirely out of context. You
are
going to listen to me. It’s not a request.”

She didn’t struggle, glaring at him. “There isn’t anything you can say that’s going to change my mind.”

“Please.” He maintained eye contact, hoping she could hear the sincerity in his voice even if she didn’t want to place any faith in it. “Hear me out.”

She studied him quietly before she rolled her eyes, exhaled as if annoyed and nodded.

“In order for you to understand what happened this morning, you have to understand the situation.” He drew a deep breath, hoping like hell Lacey was the compassionate woman he believed her to be, and started from the beginning. “Aly met the man who introduced her to BDSM when she was seventeen. He was sixteen years older than her and took advantage of her inexperience and youth. By the time she graduated from high school she was living with him. He demanded a full-time, 24/7 D/s relationship. She lived with him for seven years as a full-time slave until a couple of years ago when he packed a bag, removed Aly’s collar and told her he was moving. He’d already put the house on the market and purchased a condo in San Francisco. He left her with enough money to get back on her feet and start over.”

The agitation in Lacey’s face became replaced by sympathy. “That’s horrible.”

He nodded in agreement. “As someone who had been told what to do for over a quarter of her life, Aly had a hard time returning to a world in which she had to make all of her own decisions. Her family had cut her off when she left home, which meant she only had a few connections through the club. By the time I met her she’d managed to conceal just how much she needed the full-time lifestyle. We explored a relationship for a few weeks but when it became apparent that she was going to require that level of commitment I ended it and told her she needed to find someone who could give her what she needed.”

“But she was at your house today, and she let herself in.”

“It was bad luck. Aly’s hurting and she came to me to see if I would reconsider. Your being there was nothing more than shitty fucking timing.” He waited, allowing her to process the information. “Some Doms like to have more than one submissive. I’m not one of them. I don’t have any interest in fucking other women or adding more to the mix. My kink doesn’t extend to ménage situations, swapping up or multiples play. I don’t want another woman, and as I sure as shit don’t want another man touching you.”

“What was last night to you?” Her tear-swollen eyes were pensive, her hair tangled around her shoulders. He heard the misery in her voice, saw how much it hurt her to ask the question. “Was I just some woman you brought home for the night?”

Moving closer, he lifted his hand and cupped her chin. “You will never be ‘just some woman’, Lacey. Last night was something I’ve never experienced before. Something special.”

Tears were brimming in her eyes, the watery sheen so heavy that her misery would spill onto her cheeks and cascade down her face in salty trails.

“I don’t know if I can believe that.”

“Then let me prove it to you. I know this has happened fast between us—too fast in a lot of ways. Give me a chance to show you that you’re the only woman I need.” Rising over the couch, he leaned close, lips so near to hers he could feel the caress of her breath. “The only woman I want.”

He waited, wanting her to make the decision, knowing that the choice to move forward was no longer his to make. It was agony, watching her eyes as she internalized his words, when all he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

“We’re so different, Michael,” she said after a lengthy pause. “Aside from great sex, we don’t even know if we’re compatible.”

It was difficult not to demand that she remember everything they’d shared the evening before, to force her to face the fact that something was happening between them, when he realized she might not give them a second chance. Sure, there was sex, but there was also something a hell of a lot more substantial than a satisfying fuck. He’d once thought he was too proud to beg, but he was coming pretty damn close.