Punishing Me (Shaft on Tour #6) (14 page)

BOOK: Punishing Me (Shaft on Tour #6)
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“No,”
Daisy gasps, shaking her head in disbelief. “You did not just shove that down
your pants. You’re older than six, aren’t you, Mack?”

“Hey,”
Hunter shouts, defensively. “The six-year-old in the house is not the one
shoving her hand, or anything else for that matter, down her pants. If you have
an issue, take it up with your own spawn, woman.”

I
shrug, “Dedicated enough to kick your ass, take my phone back, then look up the
video later and post it on all my social media sites since it’s obviously not
going anywhere,” I reply, winking at him. Realization dawns all across his
face. Biting back my laugh, I step closer. “Now, are you gonna give me my phone
back, Mr. Gingerpants, or am I going to have to use force?”

Lifting
the front of his shirt, he exposes the tight ridges of his abdomen. The lines
of his pelvis, and that fucking V, couldn’t be more prominent if they had stage
lights and flashing arrows. My mouth goes dry, but everything south of my belly
button starts humming like a finely tuned engine.

Damn
him.

His
eyes follow my gaze, to where the skin disappears beneath the soft, red and
black cotton of his pants. Looking at me through hooded eyes, he smirks. “Go
for it. Unless you’d rather do this in private?”

“Holy
shit,” Hunter says, slapping Aiden on the back. “She refuses to eat bacon, but
she’s gonna touch his cock? Women, dude, I’ll never understand them.”

Reaching
out, I run my fingers along his abdomen, circling his belly button slowly with
just a feather light touch. “Is this what you want, Nicky?” I purr, meeting his
eyes. “To flex your muscle?” Stopping at the hem of his pants, I run my index
finger slowly back and forth before letting my fingers linger on the skin just
above the drawstring. “Does it make you feel like a big, strong man to
manipulate me in front of everyone?” I ask, running my fingers over the exposed
red hairs of his happy trail. “Know what?” leaning in, I tilt my chin up and
lick my bottom lip. Smiling, I yank the hairs between my fingers, ripping them
clean from his body. “You don’t intimidate me.”

“Ow,”
he yelps, slapping my hand away when I go for more. “Shit. Fuck. Damn. Ouch!”
He jumps back, and just like I knew it would, my phone falls down his pants leg
and onto the floor.

Bending
down, I grab my phone with two fingers and shove it into my pocket. Straightening,
I wink at him before looking to Daisy. “I think I’m going to go for a swim.”

Chapter Fifteen

Darryl is a Dick

Mack

“So,
how long did you and Ireland date?” Chase asks, arching her brow at me.

“And
what did you do to fuck it up?” Daisy asks, shaking her head.

“What?”
I ask, rubbing at the sore patch of skin on my pelvis. Damn that woman. Who the
hell does that to someone?

And
why in the hell are people so insistent on removing all the hair from my body
today?

“Seriously,”
Chase says, studying me. “I thought maybe you two were fucking, but this makes
so much more sense.”

“We
are not fu—“

  “Ew,”
Daisy shudders. “Please don’t use the term fuck. We need another word. And we
can’t use his name, either.” Shaking her head, she covers her eyes, as if that
is going to help somehow. “It just can’t be him doing anything to anyone that I
have done, or could ever plan to do. Let’s picture that guy from the zombie
show Aiden watches. You know, the one with that big cross bow and the Harley?”

“Are
you kidding me right now?” I shout, throwing up my hands. “That dude hasn’t
washed his nuts in at least three years. But, you’d rather picture him and his
raunchy dick than me?”

Chase
and Daisy look at each other in silent question, then back to me. “Without a
doubt,” they nod in unison, making the guys laugh.

“That’s
just wrong on so many levels,” I mumble, scrubbing a hand over my face.

“Now,
Darryl,” Daisy, says, looking anywhere but at me. “Can I call you Darryl?”

“No!”
I shout, throwing up my hands. “You can’t.”

“In
all seriousness, though,” Chase interrupts me before I can tell Daisy exactly
where to stick the invisible crossbow I know she is picturing me with right
now. “I don’t know how I didn’t catch on before, but there’s history there. So
spill it.”

“He
probably popped her cherry on prom night and never called her again,” Aiden
laughs and my whole body tenses.

“Oh
my God!” Chase gasps, throwing an ink pen at me. “You did, didn’t you? You’re
such a shit!”

“No,”
I argue, holding up my hands in my defense. “It wasn’t prom.”

“Real
dick move there, Darryl,” Hunter scolds. “Someone ever tries that shit with
Jasmine, I’ll carve out his balls with a rusty soup spoon and hang them from
the rearview mirror of the tour bus.”

“Would
you stop calling me Darryl?” I shout in irritation. Rolling my eyes, I look at
Hunter. “And are you seriously going to lecture me on my past sexual exploits?
You’re not known for calling the next day either, you know?”

“You’re
right, I’m not.” Hunter takes a step toward me, all humor leaving his voice. “I
never made promises of a future with a woman until Chase. Sex is supposed to be
about orgasms, not heartache.”

“I’m
not sayin’ it was right,” I say, turning for the door. “But, for fuck’s sake,
neither is punishing me for the rest of my life for a mistake I made when I was
seventeen.”

“She
fell in love with you, didn’t she?”

 Chase’s
question hits me so hard it could have been a concrete block that weighed a
thousand pounds and done less damage. At seventeen years old, the idea of
anyone falling in love with me was unthinkable. I refused to believe it was
possible. She was good and sweet. Ireland had dreams, where I was just roaming
around hoping to catch a break.

“She
did,” Daisy agrees, her eyes widening in realization. “You know it. Then you
broke her heart. Oh, that poor thing!”

“Poor
thing, my ass,” I fire back. “She’s not innocent by any means.”

“So
you’re saying she asked for it?” Chase snarls, her face hardening.

Shit.

“That
she deserved to see something worth falling in love with you, only to be
crushed by the lies you dropped on her at a time when she was completely
helpless and vulnerable?” Daisy asks, pressing a hand to her chest. Her eyes
well with tears, spilling over the sides and down her cheeks. “You’re a
bastard.”

“Uh
oh,” Gray winces, taking a step toward Daisy, no doubt to comfort her since I
have managed to piss off almost every woman in the house today before lunch.
“Warning. This is not a drill. Take cover. Emotional female death stares in
three, two, one…”

“Right,”
Aiden agrees, swallowing hard. “If a woman is mad enough to cry, you better
run. Run far. Run fast. Run right fucking now.”

“You
can’t be serious, Mack,” Chase says, shaking her head. “It’s called
falling
in love for a reason. If you fell off a roof, do you think you’re going to walk
away from that shit without it leaving you fucked up?”

“She
did not fall in love with me,” I snap, tired of this conversation and their
unwanted opinions. “When the hell did it become gang up on Mack day? I have
shit to do, so do you. None of us have time to sit and have this stupid fuckin’
discussion.”

Making
my way down the hallway, I try to get a handle on my temper. No, I am not proud
of every decision I have made in my life. But they were mine to make. I also do
not appreciate being put under the microscope so that everyone can put their
two cents in either. My life: my way. Even as a kid. I took the responsibility
of my own choices and didn’t have a board meeting with everyone I knew about
color choices and fabric types every time I changed my fucking underwear.S

I
may have made a mess of things in my life at times, but I never took anyone
down with me.

Since
coming to work with the band, I have had a mirror held up in front of me. Every
ounce of me in clear view to be appraised. As time goes by, it gets closer and
closer, everything becoming more clear to me. And the more I stare into the
reflection, the more I question everything about what I see.

This
is not okay with me on any level.

Halestorm
blares loudly through the sound system on side of the house where the pool is.
My hands fist at my sides as I make my way to the backdoor. Stepping out, I
round the porch and spot her diving into the water. The tiny scraps of red
fabric, barely covering her body, taunt me like waving a flag at a raging bull.

“The
fuck is your problem?” I shout over the wailing guitars and hypnotic lyrics of
Lzzy Hale. Flinging open the black iron gate to the fence surrounding the large
in-ground pool, I shove the brown lounge chair, sending it slamming into the
glass table. Her white towel falls to the concrete and stone.

I’m
mad at her.

At
me.

At
the entire goddamn world.

But,
right now, all I can see is her.

Her
arms and feet cut through the water as she swims the length of the pool,
heading toward me. Reaching the edge, just feet from me, she reaches out and
grabs the stone ledge. Standing to her feet, she slowly opens her eyes and smiles.
“Oh, hi, Dominick. Didn’t see you there. Something wrong?”

“Are
you in love with me?” I blurt, louder than I mean to.

“What?”
she asks, the color draining out of her face.

“You
heard me,” I argue. “Yes or no.”

She
blinks furiously. “Are you drunk?” she asks staring at me like I should be
committed. “Or just an arrogant son of a bitch?”

“No,”
I snap. “I asked you a question.”

“One
that I’m not dignifying with an answer,” she replies, turning her back to me.
“Go exercise your new authority where someone gives a damn.”

Kicking
off the wall, she swims for the other side of the pool. My blood boils. “You
wanna play games, baby,” I say, turning and grabbing the chair. “You best be
prepared for return fire.”

The
chair flies through the air, landing about halfway out in the water with a huge
splash. Though it was nowhere close to Ireland, her body lurches back in the
water mid-stroke. She screams, spinning around to face me. Her eyes narrow, her
entire face hardening.

“What
the fuck is your problem!” she screams, pushing through the water, headed
straight for me. “Are you crazy?”

“I
was wonderin’ the same thing about you,” I fire back, kicking her sandal across
the stone, sending it down the steps into the water.

“You’re
gonna regret that, Asshole.”

“Not
the first, won’t be the last, sweetheart. Bring it on,” I challenge, not giving
one shit that I’m baiting her.

Climbing
the steps, she lunges for me with a roar. This time though, I’m ready. As
always, her knee goes straight for my dick. “Oh no, you don’t.” Grabbing her
arms, I spin her, pulling her back against me. “Gonna have to be faster than
that.” She struggles, her wet body making it hard to keep her still. “Keep
fighting me,” I growl into her ear. “I like it and I think you do too.”

“Fuck
you, Dominick,” she spits, her chest heaving with her accelerated breathing.

I
smile against her skin. “I think you’d like that, too.” Tugging her earlobe
between my teeth, I grind my cock into her ass. She hisses out a breath, but I
don’t miss her hips as they press back into me. “But, you’ll have to ask
nicely.”

“I
wouldn’t ask you to piss on me if I were on fire,” she seethes in response.

“How
come I don’t believe you?” I ask, thrusting my hips into her ass again, smiling
victoriously when she lets out a little moan. “You continue to push me,
Ireland, but you have no idea what you’re asking for.”

Spinning
her around to face me, I grip her jaw with my fingers. My other hand slides
down her wet body, stopping on her ass. “Stop,” she breathes, but it lacks any
conviction.

“If
you really mean that, Ireland,” I say, running my fingertips along the edge of
her bottoms. “Say it again.”

Looking
up at me, she blinks slowly. Her mouth opens, just enough for her tongue to
sweep out over her bottom lip. With every breath she takes, her nipples press
into my chest, only confirming what I already know.

Ireland
wants me.

“Tell
me.” My hand slips inside her bottoms, squeezing her ass. “Tell me exactly what
you want me to do, Ireland.”

“I
hate you,” she whispers, her eyes drifting closed. “My skin crawls every time
you touch me.”

“Liar,”
I reply, rocking into her and squeezing her ass again. “You said that right before
I slipped my fingers into your pussy and felt you clamp down on me. Go on, tell
me you hate me, baby,” I say, my fingers running down between the cheeks of her
ass. “Your body doesn’t seem to agree with you.”

“Bastard.”

My
smile spreads and she shivers, swallowing hard. “Spread your legs for me,” I
taunt her, my middle finger teasing her entrance. “You’re wet already, aren’t
you?” I ask, sliding my finger inside her when she opens herself to me without
hesitation. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she licks her lips. She
knows what is coming, and what’s more, she wants it as much as I do.

“Why
are you doing this?” she asks, so quietly that I almost miss it.

“Because,”
I tell her, nipping at her jaw with my teeth. “I can’t stop wondering what your
pussy tastes like.”

Cupping
the back of her head, I pull her mouth to mine. It’s explosive. Ireland’s arm
comes up around my neck, anchoring herself to me, while the other slides into
the waistband of my pants and grabs my cock. My fingers yank at the tie behind
her head, ready to rid her of the scraps of red fabric that are keeping me from
getting my hands and mouth on her naked body.

Scanning
the yard, my eyes land on the little gazebo looking shower house we have never
used. The thing is barely big enough for two people, but the blooming ivy
covering the lattice and wood work makes it nearly impossible to see inside
unless you walk right up on it.

“Let’s
take this party on the road,” I say, slipping my finger from her pussy and
hoisting her up by her ass. “I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Ireland’s
lips go to my neck, sucking in a patch of skin when my cock loses her hand. She
finds a torturous rhythm. Kiss, lick, suck, bite. Fuck. My knees nearly buckle.
My cock aches to be inside her, wanting to hear my name on her lips again when
I make her come.

Barreling
into the gazebo like a madman, I settle Ireland down on her feet long enough to
rip my shirt over my head. “Here?” Ireland scans the floor and the room around
us, her brow arching. “What if there’s a snake, or bugs? Dominick, I swear if
something bites me, they’ll be shipping you home to your mother in a cardboard
box.” Ignoring her smart-ass comment, I rip her top off, tossing it to the
floor. My eyes and hands go straight to her tits. Cupping them both in my
hands, I run my thumbs over her nipples, smiling when they harden further from
my touch.

Not
wanting to waste any time, my hands slide down her ribs, yanking the ties free
to the bottoms. They fall to the concrete floor, exposing her to my greedy eyes
completely. Unable to help myself, I drop to my knees.

“Goddamn.”
Grabbing her hips, I pull her body to me.

Diving
face first into her pussy, I lick and suck at her clit like a man starved. A
moan rumbles from her lips, nearly making me blow my load. “That’s the sexiest
sound I have ever fucking heard,” I growl against her skin, earning me another
moan.

BOOK: Punishing Me (Shaft on Tour #6)
12.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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