Rage

by Michelle Pace

  him enthusiastically. As he pulled down her lacey panties, her

  familiar responses were hurried and wanting. He slipped a finger inside her, amazed at how wet and ready she always was for him.

  No longer able to contain his lust, he shoved into her roughly. He pulled back slowly, nearly pulling all the way out of her. She

  thrust herself back onto him, as if objecting. He could have

  plundered ahead, and he knew she would have loved every se-

  cond of it, but he forced himself to proceed in painful slow mo-

  tion. He wanted to savor this. To savor her.

  He pulled out of her and rolled her over onto her back. She

  cried out in protest, and he reached up and pinned both of her

  wandering hands over her head with one of his.

  “Please, Phillip.” She begged, and he placed a finger to her

  lips to shush her. When she turned her head to suck on it, he

  growled. He pushed his knee between her legs and entered her.

  Stephanie’s eyes rolled back as she thrust herself upward, driv-

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  ing him all the way inside to her core. Her snug warmth over-

  whelmed his senses, and he threw his head back forcefully, a

  moan erupting from somewhere deep within him.

  Stunned at the intensity of being inside her, his breath

  hitched. After taking a long moment to gather his bearings, his

  eyes found hers again. Her eyes languidly perused him, and he

  felt a feverish need to please her. The rise and fall of her chest was slow and rhythmic, and he disciplined himself to match his

  pace to her breathing. This proved to be torturous, and in

  minutes he lost all willpower. He buried himself inside her

  roughly, and Stephanie cried out. He paused, removing his lips

  from her temple.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, holding her eyes hos-

  tage.

  “No.” She arched against him. He continued deliberately

  grinding into her, watching her face for cues. When she tried to close her eyes or look away, he gently turned her face back to

  his. He refused to let her be anywhere but in the moment with

  him. Their long overdue reunion deserved all of her attention.

  Her cheeks flushed bright red, and he watched with fascination

  as her expression transformed from one of fear, to embarrass-

  ment, to excitement.

  “God, I missed you, love.” He whispered, feeling her rag-

  ged breath against his lips. A small delightful sound escaped her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist with the force of a

  boa constrictor. Her wrists fought against his palm, serving as a reminder of her desperate need for him. He intentionally froze

  deep inside her and kissed her delicately. She stopped struggling and begged him with her eyes. He relented and released her

  hands, which immediately went to his ass, pulling him into her

  ferociously.

  “Is that what you want?” His taunt was playful as his mouth

  moved to her breast. He engulfed her hard nipple and sucked on

  it aggressively.

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  “Yes.” She gasped and Phillip pinned her legs with his, let-

  ting her hands guide the speed of his thrusts.

  “Say it.” He knew she was close, and he needed to feel her

  come. He wanted to watch her face as she did.

  “I want you, Phillip.” She grasped the back of his head and

  put her lips to his ear. Her breath tickled him as her heard her softly whisper, “I love you.”

  Stephanie sounded like she was about to add something

  else, but his mouth found hers again, and he silenced her.

  Moments later, when she quaked around him, he couldn’t

  restrain himself from joining her.

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  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As the shimmering sun rose over Sueset Bay, Stephanie

  leaned her head lazily on Phillip’s bare shoulder. They’d slept

  some off and on, but each of them had taken a turn waking the

  other in the night for more lovemaking. Just before dawn, Steph

  tumbled out onto the patio and ran the water in the hot tub. If the sex Olympics were to continue, she knew her muscles would

  thank her for the hydrotherapy. The water level was almost

  above the jets when she felt a hand on her naked ass, and Phillip quickly silenced her surprised squeal with a mind numbing kiss.

  The sunrise had come and gone, and they’d been boiling in

  the water for twenty minutes when Phillip growled playfully and

  pulled her onto his lap like some dirty Santa Claus.

  “Hey, little girl. Want some candy?” His accent was nearly

  impossible to resist.

  She emitted a throaty laugh and shook her head. “Listen,

  baby, if we keep this up, I won’t be able to walk.”

  He touched his forehead to hers with an exasperated huff

  and stuck out his bottom lip. She kissed it with a loud smacking sound and ran her hands down his chest, resting her right hand

  on his tattoo.

  She hesitated and then traced the outline of the triangular

  shape with her finger. “Tell me about this.”

  His fair eyes dropped to her hand, and the color rose in his

  cheeks. He blinked and looked away. “Oh. Well…it’s kind of

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  embarrassing.”

  “I’m all ears.” She cocked a sassy eyebrow and smiled soft-

  ly. He positioned her so she was facing him, and she straddled

  him.

  “When I thought I’d lost you, I went to hide in the bottom

  of a whisky bottle on Inishmore. Do you remember me telling

  you about my uncle?”

  “The ex-mercenary?” she asked. Phillip nodded seriously,

  and Steph climbed off of his lap. She took the bench across from him, making herself comfortable for what could be a long story.

  “He owns an inn there. It’s where I went…after.”

  Steph nodded silently and felt her pulse quicken. Like the

  rest of the world, she’d been dying to know where he’d been

  during what E Entertainment Television referred to as

  “Phillipwatch”.

  “It was cowardly, and I was wallowing. Anyway…his

  friend Bones came around and that dude is an Inkmaster. I told

  him I wanted something over my heart. Something Irish. It had

  to be something that would remind me never to give my heart

  away again.” The passion with which he spoke made Steph un-

  comfortable, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fo-

  cusing on the water in front of her.

  Phillip splashed forward and came to a stop in front of her,

  his hands finding her hips under the water. “Hey. I was drunk

  and stupid. Fortunately, he saw through me and knew what I re-

  ally wanted. That must be the secret talent of every exceptional tattooist. He gave me this Celtic knot.”

  Phillip took her finger between two of his and traced it

  along the tattoo. His pale blue eyes caressed her as he explained his logic. “Later, when I sobered up, I did some research. I

  know, it was backwards, but you know me. Anyway, I found out

  that knots with multiple paths interwoven like mine are referred to as “love knots.” Endless paths are thought to represent eternity.”

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  Steph felt a monstrous lump in her throat as Phillip lifted

  her hand
to his mouth and kissed it.

  “The one Bones gave me is a trinity knot. Three paths, three

  corners. I’ve been thinking a lot about it the past couple of days.

  I’ve decided the three paths are mine, yours… and the baby’s. I

  hope you don’t think that’s daft.”

  Steph shook her head and swallowed hard. “I named her.”

  Phillip whipped his head in her direction, and her phone be-

  gan to ring.

  “Shit. And so it begins.” She sighed and climbed out of the

  hot tub, creeping carefully over to her purse. She answered, and the sound of loud caterwauling greeted her.

  “You need to get your ass to the spa. Now.” Cheyenne

  spoke in hushed tones over the heinous wailing sound. It was

  clear that though it was only about seven a.m., she was already

  frazzled.

  “Is that Liam?”

  Cheyenne snorted. “No. It’s Yara. She woke up this morn-

  ing with a zit the size of Mt. Rushmore.”

  “What the hell do you want me to do about it?” Steph

  asked, admiring Phillip’s edible ripped body as he came through

  the balcony door.

  “Tell her you can fix it with the magic of photo shop, I

  don’t know!” Cheyenne exhaled, and Steph could tell she was

  smoking again. Steph was very grateful that she wasn’t a

  bridesmaid. “Misery loves company, bitch. I was just hoping

  you’d bring me some cheese to go with this wine.”

  As if on cue, the horrid sound began again. Steph held the

  phone away from her ear; Phillip covered his ear and frowned.

  “Dear God.” He laughed.

  “Did I just hear Phillip?” Cheyenne demanded, her hushed

  tone full of gossip and promise.

  “I’ll be there in a little bit.” Steph hung up and tossed her

  phone onto the bed beside Phillip. “Can I call in sick?”

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  He smiled from the edge of bed and pulled her to him, nuz-

  zling into her naked breasts. “You just have to get through today, love. One more day.”

  She wrapped her arms around him as his words resonated

  through her. One more day. Today was their last day on Noro-

  nha. She had a plane to catch the next morning, and the thought

  of flying back to Paris and away from him unnerved her. She

  wondered what would become of them, what this all meant, if

  anything. He looked up at her, and the conflict in his eyes told her that he had similar concerns.

  “I have to go.” She explained, “Cheyenne’s on the verge of

  strangling the bride.”

  “Well we can’t have that now, can we?” Phillip’s response

  was casual, “I need breakfast anyway. I have some protein stores to replenish.”

  “Quit making it so hard to leave,” she groaned, lightly

  scratching her nails across his shoulders as she released him

  from her embrace.

  “Quit making it so hard,” he replied with a sly grin. She tossed her head and laughed. Turning, she bent over to pick up

  her discarded clothes, and Phillip pulled her back onto the bed.

  “Sorry, love. I’m not quite through with you just yet.” One

  look at his mischievous grin and she knew she was going to be

  very late for pre-wedding photographs.

  As Steph climbed the long path back up to the lobby, she

  felt her stress level rising with each step. It couldn’t be put off any longer. She had to go to her room, and she had to face Christopher. He was such an unpredictable man that she had no idea

  what lay ahead. Phillip had pressed her to let him come along,

  but she knew that would only make a bad situation disastrous,

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  and she insisted on doing it on her own.

  When she finally reached the main building, she decided to

  be stealthy and took the long way around. It was a calculated

  move to avoid being seen by anyone in the dining area. She did

  not relish doing the walk of shame in last night’s clothes in front of Nathan Clayton. She cut around the front of the building and

  had nearly reached the valet doors when she saw Enrique wheel-

  ing luggage to a land rover. Her lugs turned to rubber when she

  saw Christopher trailing him, his phone to his ear. Stephanie had the overwhelming urge to run.

  I may as well have a neon sign flashing the word Whore

  over my head. Joy.

  She was about to turn around the way she came when Chris-

  topher looked in her direction. His phone remained firmly to his ear, but he eyed her up and down.

  “We’ll discuss this further when I get back. Cheers.” He

  hung up. Steph inhaled deeply, unsure where to begin. Christo-

  pher pulled an envelope out of his inside jacket pocket. “This is my resignation. I’m handing you over to Debz. She’s not a shark, like I am, and she’s a bit unorthodox, but then, so are you. You should get along quite nicely.”

  “Chris, I’m sorry.” She could feel her skin growing splotchy

  as it always did when she was embarrassed. He held up a hand to

  stop her.

  “Don’t be sorry. From the beginning I knew you weren’t

  over him. I’m the one who jumped in with both feet. I knew bet-

  ter, and I ignored my instincts. Shame on me.” Enrique appeared

  at his side, gracing Stephanie with a disapproving sneer. She narrowed her eyes at him and then turned back to Christopher.

  “I need to say something to you,” Steph said, grabbing his

  arm as he turned away. He stopped and looked down at her hand

  neutrally. Pulling off his sunglasses, he looked down at her with his game face firmly in place. “You’ve been a damn good agent,

  Christopher, and a hell of a friend. You pulled me out of a very 204

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  dark place and whether you believe it or not, I’ll be forever

  grateful to you.”

  Christopher chewed on the corner of his lip as if rolling her

  statement around to get the feel of it. He nodded slowly, his eyes flitting briefly to her face. He hid it well, but the hurt under his polished surface shamed her. Without another word, he climbed

  into the passenger seat.

  Steph watched as his Land Rover sped away and disap-

  peared behind the tree line. Her phone rang again, and when she

  saw it was Cheyenne again, she didn’t bother to answer it. In-

  stead, she hurried in the direction of her room.

  Phillip couldn’t contain the swagger in his step as he wan-

  dered into the dining area and plopped down into a chair next to Nathan. With only the band members present for breakfast, it

  was surprisingly quiet in the dining room. Across from him, Bret looked like the human equivalent of a dried apple, and David,

  who for the first time in recorded history looked frayed around

  the edges, was shoving a water glass in front of Bret and waving the waitress over for coffee refills. Scot turned to Phillip, his coffee cup halfway to his lips.

  “Good day, sunshine.” Scot mused. Phillip felt his face

  break into a huge smile.

  Nathan lit a cigarette, eyeing Phillip with suspicion and

  amusement. “I heard you had a guest last night. Looks like your

  little visit was… invigorating.”

  Bret chugged his glass of water, winced, and said “Do tell.”

  Phillip paused, casting a reluctant eye around at his brothers

  in arms. “Stephanie and I worked things out.”


  “‘Bout bloody time!” David didn’t look up from the phone

  he was franticly texting on. Bret snorted and pulled a five pound 205

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  note out of his pocket and flung it at David, who stuffed it in his pocket without looking up from his text. Nathan groaned and

  reached for his wallet. Scot grinned like a fool and motioned for him to keep the money coming.

  “Fork it over, bitch.”

  Phillip gaped in shock, but never lost his grin. “You wa-

  gered on us?”

  Scot fixed him with a mock withering glance and a wicked

  grin. “Get over it.”

  “Relax. Phil. We didn’t wager on whether or not you’d

  sleep with Steph. That would be ridiculous. We just wagered on

  when,” Nathan replied. “Bret and I said after the wed-

  ding…David and Scot said before. They’re optimists.”

  Scot grinned. “And winners, it seems.”

  “I never win anything,” Bret snapped, downing more cof-

  fee.

  “Boo hoo.” David snapped, running a hand through his

  short dark hair.

  “Cheer up bloke, it’s your special day,” Phillip replied,

  dumping half and half into his coffee. The look the drummer

  gave him in response made Phillip wonder if a wedding would

  indeed take place.

  “I spent the night-- at her request, I’ll have you know—in

  Bret’s room. Some nonsensical superstition about not seeing her

  before the wedding. No big deal, I’m a reasonable man. So I get

  about two hours of sleep since I have to listen to the dulcet tones of Bret vomiting every half hour. Then at five a.m., the texts start rolling in.”

  “You could have stayed with us, David. Saffron’s quite a

  fan of your cute little bum.” Nathan flicked his ashes, and Phillip chuckled.

  “Shut the hell up, Nathan. He’s on a roll.” Scot leaned for-

  ward in his seat in anticipation. Phillip bit back a smile. He knew Scot was right; when David was on a rant, it was a rare and en-206

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  thralling event.

  “So the first said…,” David began scrolling back, his eyes

  looking crazed. Phillip mused that David looked as at home with

  his smart phone as he did twirling drumsticks. Considering his

  choice of wife, it was probably good that he’d become one with