“Fuck me?” I breathe against his lips.
Fox leaves a lingering kiss at the corner of my mouth while grabbing the back of my thighs and lifting me into his arms as he stands. “You never have to ask twice, baby.”
We leave the kitchenette area on one side of the converted warehouse space, but don’t make it far. He drops me on the back of the couch and wastes no time peeling my tiny shorts off, tossing them aside before popping the button on his jeans. I watch in fascination as his powerful thighs are revealed and my breath grows short at the sight of his cock, hard and ready.
He slants his mouth over mine. Taking a fistful of my hair, he angles my head back so my neck is bared for him and breaks the kiss to lick a stripe up it. I shiver as he trails hot biting kisses back down.
“We could’ve died today.” It’s sinking in. The thrumming beneath my skin reaches a fever pitch. I meet his hooded eyes. “Make me feel alive?”
He keeps hold of my gaze as he releases my hair and drags his fingers down my body, over my folds, eliciting another shudder from me. He flicks his attention down briefly to watch his finger sink into me and I bite my lip, almost crying out in protest when he pulls it out. Holding up glistening fingers between us, his mouth curves into a seductive smirk.
“Thought so. Look at that, you’re fucking soaked.”
My cheeks prickle with heat, but I won’t avert my gaze or hide from my arousal. Fox’s smirk stretches wider and he kisses me hard, pushing my legs further apart.
Balanced on the back of the couch, I don’t have much to hold onto, so I cling to his muscled shoulders and shudder as his cock enters me with one sharp thrust. My mouth falls open at the intense heat coiling in my core.
“Fox,” I gasp, nails digging into his tattooed skin as I wrap my legs tighter around his waist.
There’s a gleam in his eyes as he lifts one of my legs, stretching it high enough it drapes over his shoulder. He tests my flexibility and swipes his tongue in a slow arc over his lower lip when he finds the position is within my limit. Holding my hip with one hand, he grabs my nape with the other, trapping my leg. His thrusts are powerful and something dark and feral swirls in his eyes that stokes the fire burning in me. When he hits a spot that lights me up, my back arches and my nails rake across his skin, making him groan.
Our movements are passionate with an undercurrent of roughness that I crave.
His fingers clamp tighter on my nape as his skin slaps against mine. He pulls me closer and kisses me demandingly. I lean into it, a strangled cry sticking in my throat.
We almost died. Someone shot at us. But we’re alive. We’re fucking alive.
I break the kiss first, tilting my head back and closing my eyes. Fox curses, lips pressed to my neck.
“God, yes,” I push out. “Don’t stop.”
“That what you need, baby?” His teeth scrape a sensitive spot on my neck, followed by his tongue. The vibration of his low laugh drags me closer to the edge. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Your pussy is begging for my cock.”
I level him with a look, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He grins at me when I pull his face up from my neck. “Then keep going. Make me feel good.”
“You want to come?” He snaps his hips to punctuate the question.
I nod, a moan escaping me as he hits that spot again.
“Hold on tight, or I’m going to fuck you so hard you fall off this couch.”
Air punches out of me and my stomach dips with the spike of desire racing through me. The force of the next thrust makes my eyes roll back in my head. My entire body lights up, needing more, more, more. He takes me hard and fast, controlling and commanding my pleasure, and I have no choice but to obey.
A scream tears from my throat when I come. Fox’s grip flexes on me. His thrusts turn more powerful as he chases his release. With a deep rumbling growl he stiffens and his cock pulses, filling my pussy.
This is what I needed—him making me feel how alive we are.
Thirty
Maisy
Fox wasn’t about to let me out of his sight for the foreseeable future, but I convinced him I needed to leave his converted warehouse or go stir crazy if I didn’t get out for a bit.
The itch under my skin was killing me and I wouldn’t tame myself or hold back from what I need anymore. My usual yoga routine wasn’t helping. I needed fresh air and something normal to beat back the memories of being shot at yesterday. I promised to be careful while I hung out with Thea at her bakery. He tried to shove his gun in my purse, but since it wouldn’t fit and I refused to carry it on me, he told me with finality that I had an hour before he picked me up.
“An hour and that’s it,” he reminds me when he drops me off on the main street lined with shopping boutiques, galleries, and a coffee shop. “I don’t like leaving you here.”
“I’m grabbing smoothies with my bestie, not walking into a life and death situation.” He growls in displeasure and I bend to give him a quick kiss. “I’ll be fine. Look, see? There are yoga moms. Totally safe.”
As I gesture at the cheerful storefronts and the women I usually see in my classes pushing their kids in strollers amongst the other shoppers enjoying the summer day, his chiseled jaw works. Some people look our way, pausing to stare at him while they whisper to each other, probably spreading more lies about him.
“You should always be prepared,” he says gruffly. “Be careful and keep an eye out. We still have no idea if they know you’re with me. I’d rather no one found out if it keeps you safe.”
I point to Thea’s bakery in the middle of the block. “I’m going right there. Nothing’s going to happen.”
If I say it enough times, I’ll believe it.
He brushes my waist. “If you need me, you call right away. I’ll be back in an hour to get you.”
I nod and watch him drive off, admiring the sight of him on his motorcycle. A pair of women in LuLulemons and trendy corduroy baseball caps wave to me as I head down the sidewalk.
“We missed you in class this week,” one of them says.
“I know, sorry. I’m on a break for a while,” I offer with a smile. When they exchange a glance and tilt their heads in silent yoga mom language—aka totally judging me—I add, “Figuring out stuff for my freshman semester.”
“Oh,” they drawl in unison.
“Keep working on your crane pose, you’ll get there.” I infuse cheerfulness I don’t feel into my tone. “It’s all about practice, ladies.”
I leave them behind and keep heading for the bakery.
A familiar voice nearby stops me in my tracks. Mom. Ducking under the shaded awning of a boutique, I hide behind a rack of clothes and pretend to browse until I spot her up ahead with Mayor Taylor and another man in tow. I’ve managed to avoid my parents around Ridgeview since I left, but I didn’t think I’d run into her downtown in the middle of the day. Shouldn’t she be at her office instead of having lunch with the mayor?
Then again, Fox and I traced her to that shady abandoned warehouse when she was supposed to be at work for an important meeting. Thinking of what happened after we went there yesterday sends a shudder rolling through me. I came out here to get away from the thoughts rattling around in my head.
It’s weird to look at her now that I know she’s working with criminals.
For a moment, I wonder if the mayor is in on their scheming. The old mayor was in some way, since they got him to overlook Dad’s promotion with a bribe.
This is an opportunity I can’t waste. I take out my phone and send a quick text to Thea letting her know I’m running late. She won’t mind and this could be important to help us figure out more of what’s going on.
Keeping my movements casual, I sneak my phone through the rack and snap photos of the three of them as they talk. They’re too far to hear clearly. Mom seems tense and the guy with the mayor is frowning. I don’t recognize him and it only tugs harder at my suspicion.
They turn and head my way. Crap. I shift around the boutique’s sale
racks and fake being absorbed in a vintage red suede number that, actually, I would love to have.
“Maisy.” Not a question, barely a hint of surprise at running into me, and no trace of worry or remorse for the things she said to me the night I left.
I meet my mother’s cool gaze. “Mom.” My attention shifts over her shoulder to the mayor. “Mayor Taylor.”
The third man stands close to the mayor. He has cropped hair and looks rough, even in a cheap suit stretched to its limit by his barrel chest. His steel gaze sweeps over me, making my skin crawl. Must be a new bodyguard.
“Nice to see you, Maisy,” the mayor says. “I hope you’re feeling better. Your mother mentioned you caught a bad stomach bug when I saw you last at the steakhouse.”
“Right,” I say, glancing accusingly at Mom. Any lie she can spin to keep her from looking bad is fair game. “I was sick to my stomach.”
Partially true, since my parents tried to force sleazy Sam Blake on me as yet another way to control my life. Now I know all their dirty skeletons they hid from Holden and I.
It’s subtle, but the corners of her mouth pinch in disapproval. She does a good job of acting like everything’s normal while each slight gesture tells me I’ll be sorry if I make a scene. Years of learned behavior rises in me, calling me to her will because it can’t be unlearned overnight. I clench my teeth.
Do you know? I want to scream. Do you know that the psychos paying you shot at me and Fox?
“You should be at home,” Mom says with a well-practiced casual air. She’s a pro at doublespeaking to get her meaning across without raising alarms to anyone who doesn’t know what she’s really like. “It’s too soon for you to be out and about after how seriously ill you were.”
Translation: stop fucking around and do as I say.
Pressing my lips into a thin line, I stretch my arms overhead in a show of defiance. “I feel a lot better now.”
“All the same, I’d rather see you go home, sweetheart.”
The mayor’s bodyguard is eerily transfixed on me. He gives me a yellow-toothed grin when I catch him staring at me for the third time instead of keeping an eye out for any potential threats, like a bodyguard is supposed to.
I roll my shoulders back. “I don’t think I will.”
Mom’s eyes flash in annoyance. “Well. If you insist on being difficult.”
Is it difficult or am I just thinking for myself? Not that she’d care. Her world only consists of what she wants to control.
“Jacqueline,” the mayor says. “We should…”
“In a moment. We’ll make it on time for the...” She pauses and her sleek bob swings when she turns back to me. The bodyguard shifts restlessly and she sighs. “Investors. I just want to make sure my daughter makes it home.”
She grabs my wrist, nails digging in hard. I suck in a breath, shocked that she would do it in front of an audience. There isn’t a shred of empathy or compassion in her gaze. If she doesn’t know I was shot at, I doubt she’d be moved.
The truth of it is a punch to the gut. After seeing proof of her dirty business dealings, I can barely look at her. We haven’t had a great relationship, or even an okay one for years, but it hurts to know she feels little for my well being.
A rumbling around the corner snags my attention. Fox’s motorcycle turns down the road and relief washes over me. He must’ve stayed nearby. With his leather jacket, tousled dark hair, and the fresh cuts from our run in with the criminals my parents are working with, he looks every inch the dangerous bad boy whispered about throughout town. Mom and the others stiffen at the sight of him.
Oddly, she exchanges a look with the bodyguard, as if he’s the one in control rather than her or the mayor.
“Bye, Mom.”
Yanking my wrist from her talon-like nails, I keep my gaze locked with hers as I move toward the curb. The bike stops behind me and Fox’s stony presence envelops me like a hug, warding off anyone else who dares get close while welcoming me into its embrace. Mom watches, enraged, as I get on the back of the bike and wrap my arms around Fox’s waist.
“Maisy,” she hisses.
Fox revs the engine, arrogantly cutting off whatever she tries to say next to save face and puts a hand over mine for a beat.
Mom cuts a sharp glance to the bodyguard, then the mayor, before looking back at me and silently commanding me to get off the motorcycle. I set my jaw. All I hear is the sound of glass shattering and the angry blast of gunshots.
Without another word, we peel away from my mother, the mayor, and his bodyguard. Later I’ll apologize to Thea for ditching, but Fox couldn’t have come at a better time.
It’s like he knew I needed him. No matter what, he’ll come for me.
Thirty-One
Fox
Bright light filters through the industrial windows, making Maisy’s hair shine in the summery morning rays. It’s fanned out on the pillow as she sleeps. One of her hands is tucked beneath her cheek and the other reaches out to me, draped over my inked chest. Carefully, I roll toward her with a content, sleep-tinged sigh.
Having her in my arms, in my bed, to chase away the tortured images my mind fills with in sleep is wonderful. They haven’t been bothering me as much. It’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in years.
As I watch her, she cracks her eyes open groggily. My lips twitch and my heart turns over. For someone that loves to move and stretch her body with yoga, she doesn’t love mornings. Maybe yoga is what helps her accept being awake.
“Morning,” she whispers huskily.
With a cute little grunt, she snuggles closer and smiles at me. I caress her back and enjoy the feeling of her head resting on my chest. It’s quiet and comfortable for a few minutes. This is nice, not having to worry about my problems or a plan or what happened two days ago, nothing but enjoying the beautiful girl in my arms.
“You feel okay?” she asks a while later.
“Yeah,” I say, touching one of the scabbed over cuts on my cheek. “They’ll heal in a few days. Not the worst I’ve dealt with.”
She lifts her head, propping her chin on my pec to peer at me with her sleepy hazel eyes. “What do you want to do after all this is over?”
I go to answer, then pause. Do I have a life plan? My life has only been focused on revenge for so long. I never thought past it.
“I don’t know,” I say slowly.
Her calf slides against my leg beneath the sheets. I like it, all the little ways she touches me. She hums and shifts, folding her arms over my chest to rest her head on, her bare tits pressing into my skin. I lick my lips and skate my fingertips down her sides.
“What about the stuff you make? You could do something like the work you do with reclaimed materials. People would buy the things you build. Or do you like working on cars better?”
Her lips pucker in thought and I’m too busy breathing through a wave of fondness mingled with the tug of arousal low in my stomach when her body moves while she talks.
“You could open a workshop that gives you the space to do both.” Her eyebrows waggle. “Y’know, because you’re so multitalented.”
As her voice dips with double meaning, she slides her soft body over mine, straddling me. Shit, I’m liking where this is going. My hands automatically find her hips and a pleased rumble vibrates in my throat.
“I…yes, I like that idea. Never thought about it much before.”
I can barely string together a sentence, too distracted by the way she looks with the sheets pooled around her waist, hair mussed from sleep, hunger burning in her gaze. Proud of her body and happy to have me admire it. Her lashes flutter and she puts her hands on the ocean and crow on my chest as she continues in a hushed voice, painting a dream of the future.
Her skin is soft. I move one hand from her waist, pushing my palm up from her stomach, through the valley between her tits, not stopping until my fingers wrap around her throat. The corners of her mouth lift in approval. Using my hold on her neck, I pull her down to s
teal a kiss.
Mine, I think with a flare of possession.
“It’ll be close enough to the beach to hear the seagulls,” she mumbles against my lips between kisses. “Venice Beach, I think. Just a couple blocks away. And nearby, I’ll have a beachfront yoga studio of my own. I’ve been thinking that’s what I want to do, after my road trip. Just picture it.”
I’m liking the idea more and more, but my thoughts haze over as she sits up and sinks onto my cock with this wicked half-lidded bliss on her face that has me ready to blow my load the minute I’m fully inside the wet heat of her pussy.
“Anything you want,” I rasp, fitting my hands back to her waist and groaning when she starts to ride my cock. “As long as I’m with you.”
All the things I thought I had to do seem less vital to living right now. This is all I need. When I’m with her, everything else fades away.
Victory gleams in her beautiful golden eyes and, god, I love her. I fucking love her.
It takes a few days, but I managed to get what I needed to fix the blown out glass on the Charger. After the repair is done, I climb the steps and find Maisy in a nest of sheets on the bed in a sports bra with the laptop, squinting at the screen. We hit a snag with the sealed employee file Ethan gave us that even Colt has had trouble decrypting, so she’s combing through the copied hard drive from her parents’ place searching for a way to get in.
I scrub a hand over my jaw as I watch her for a second, pushing away the thought of what happened the other day. Putting her life in danger is unacceptable. I’m still pissed those fuckers took a shot at her just to get at me. Even though she said we should keep going, I’m wondering if I should pull the plug on this.
Again I’m hit with the idea to put her on the back of the bike and just go. Leave Ridgeview in the dust while I take her wherever we want. Go find the life she talked about for us. I’ve spent so many years on this, but being with her makes me rethink what’s important.
Savage Wilder: Dark New Adult High School Bully Romance (Sinners and Saints Book 4) Page 26