by Naima Simone
“I want to see all of you.” He sat back on his heels, his gaze meeting hers—burning into hers—as his fingers worked the button and zipper of her jeans. When she didn’t move to stop him, he quickly divested her of the denim, panties and boots. Belated modesty decided to rear its inconvenient head, and she crossed her arm over her not-flat stomach and angled one leg over the other, concealing herself.
“All of you. Don’t try to hide from me,” he reiterated. “You’re a fantasy. My fantasy, and it seems like I’ve waited forever to have you. Not going to let you deprive me of it. Of you.”
She blinked, his words—the admiration in them, the possessiveness in them—sending her mentally reeling. His fantasy? Had she ever been anyone’s—
“Oh God.” The words exploded from her as his mouth opened over her sex. She hadn’t even realized he’d parted her legs, much less... “Maddox,” she groaned, ecstasy bursting inside her like a geyser.
Without her permission, her legs fell open on either side of his wide shoulders, granting him even more room, easier access. She peered down her body, and the sight of his eyes closed, cheekbones flushed red, thick auburn hair spread over her thighs, his lips wet with...
“Holy hell.” Her hips bucked, writhed, seeking more of that devasting and dirty pleasure.
Tunneling her fingers through his cool, dark red strands, she held him close, unconcerned with anything but chasing the beautiful, stunning orgasm that threatened to crack her in half.
“I could drown in you.” He thrust a finger inside her—no, two—filling her. Oh, Jesus. She wasn’t going to survive his voice, his mouth and his hand. “I could drown in you and never want to come up for air.”
He latched onto her again, his talented and devilish tongue swiping over the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, torturing her with flicks and firm but indulgent licks. Tremors rippled through her, leaving her shaking, and nearly incoherent cries spilled from her.
“Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she chanted, riding his mouth and fingers. “I need...”
His fingers curled inside her, massaging a place high up as his lips pursed around the button that was the epicenter of her pleasure. He drew hard on her and rubbed harder.
And she was done.
Gone.
He hurled her over the edge, and with a scream that abraded her throat, she went.
By the time she returned to herself, trembling and raw, Maddox had his jeans shoved down around his thighs, his dick in his hand and a condom packet caught between his teeth. Ripping the foil open, he removed the protection and sheathed himself in economical movements that should’ve been far from sexy. But everything this man did screamed sex. And though she’d just enjoyed an epic orgasm, her body hummed; her sex softened, quivered.
Maddox was going to be inside her.
That alone—and those thick, tree-trunk, hair-dusted thighs cradling that beautiful cock—was enough to have her aching and empty.
She stretched her arms toward him, and he captured one of her hands, pressing a kiss to the palm. Using his grasp as leverage, he gently pulled her to a sitting position. Frowning, she stared up at him, but when his hand lowered to her hip and squeezed, his intention dawned as clear as a bright summer day.
Unease flooded her, momentarily batting back the clawing need. She’d never had sex in this position with her ex, because he hadn’t liked the view. No, he’d never vocalized the words, but she knew. What if Maddox...? She shook her head, lowering back to the blanket. No, she couldn’t...
His hand shot out, cradling the nape of her neck. He shifted, crouching over her. “I don’t know what just went through your head, but when I said I wanted to see all of you, I meant all. There’s no part of you that I don’t find fucking gorgeous and sexy. No. Part.” He planted a hot, openmouthed kiss to the sensitive skin under her ear. “Turn over and get on your hands and knees for me. I’ve dreamed about this ass,” he murmured, squeezing her hip and the upper part of her behind. “Now be the brave woman you are and give it to me.”
Lust razed her to the ground, and part of her wondered how she wasn’t a pile of ashes. She blinked up at him, and in that moment, she would’ve offered him anything.
She’d already given him more than was wise.
Slowly, she turned, moving until she did as he asked, pressing her hands and knees to the blanket. Fire tinged her face. She felt too vulnerable, too exposed. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t...
His hands stroked up her back, curling over her shoulders, then retracing the path, not stopping until he cupped her behind.
“Better than any dream,” he said, squeezing her flesh.
He bent over her, trailing his lips down her spine, lingering at the base to tongue the slight dip. His hands cradled her hips, his touch somehow...worshipful. His caress reverent. And like that, her doubts, her insecurities evaporated, and she believed him. Believed he’d dreamed about her. Wouldn’t reject her.
Wanted her.
He moved up her body, his chest pressed to her back. She closed her eyes, picturing them together. His huge frame covering her, his golden skin contrasting and complementing her darker tone. His silken auburn hair tangling with her coarser darker curls as he bent his head over hers.
“Take me?” he rasped, his lips grazing the shell of her ear.
“Yes. I’m yours.” The words slipped from her, unbidden. But she couldn’t revoke them. Because she meant them. God, no matter how stupid of her, she meant them.
With a deep, almost tortured groan that vibrated from his chest and through her back, he thrust into her.
Her head flew back on her shoulders, a sharp wail erupting from her. Her spine arched from the clash of pleasure and pain. The combination ricocheted through her like a discordant yet harmonious duet, and she shook with it.
His arm wrapped around her waist like a steel band, holding her to him. His low words barely penetrated, but the soothing, rumbled tone did. Second by second, muscle by muscle, she relaxed. Her sex quivered around his huge, thick length and width, slowly acclimating itself to the intrusion.
“Easy, baby.” He scattered gentle but feverish kisses to her ear, her nape, the tops of her shoulders. “Relax and breathe for me. You can take me. There’s nothing you can’t do.”
He held still above her, but as time ticked by, it wasn’t enough. The threads of pain segued into a taut, greedy need that only he could assuage. But to do that, he had to move.
“Maddox.” She flexed her hips, moaned as pleasure undulated through her. “I need you to...”
“Yeah,” he finished for her.
He withdrew, his stiff flesh dragging through her ultrasensitive sheath, setting off tiny pulses and sparks. She whimpered, and when he buried himself back inside her, it turned into a cry. Hands gripping her hips, he rode her, stroking into her. Reshaping her, branding her so she was his and his alone. No one else would do for her after him. No one could fill her to capacity and beyond, chase away the emptiness, make her...feel.
Not content to be passive, she bucked her hips, grinding against him, urging him to take her harder, faster, thrusting back on his cock. His dirty chuckle floated over her, as did his dark, low urging to “go on and get what you want,” that “it’s yours.” His words inflamed her, drove her to crash and burn with him.
Once more, he covered her, one hand folding around her breast, pinching the turgid nipple and the other slipping between her slick, trembling thighs.
“Give it to me, baby,” he growled, fingers circling her engorged button, rubbing it. “Give everything to me.”
With a choked, almost soundless scream, she broke. Cracked. Exploded into pieces, so many pieces. Her mind flew in one direction, her soul in the other. And her body... Her body belonged to him. Was grounded by him.
As she drifted back to some semblance of sanity, Maddox stiffened over h
er, his hips snapping and powering into her. He seized, his long groan echoing in her ear as he came, his heavy frame blanketing her as they both tumbled to the blanket.
He rolled, gathering her in his arms, his thick legs tangled with hers. Silence fell around them, broken only by their rough breath.
“Stay.” His low, ragged voice belied the tender stroking of his hand up and down her spine. “Stay with me.”
“Maddox.” Emotion—need, sadness, fear—clogged her throat, and she tried to pull away.
The two halves of her warred, battled. The half that yearned to give in, to remain here with him. To be what he wanted, deserved. And the half that couldn’t. That knew she would only make him resent her when she refused to give up always leaving and driving away from him. She silently wept because hurting him would be an inevitability.
But his arms banded around her, refusing to let her pull away.
“I’m not asking for forever, Cherrie.” He pinched her chin, tilted her head back so she had to meet his bright gaze. “You’re here for two weeks. I know you’ll be busy selling jewelry and enjoying the rally. And I have to work at the bar. But in between those times, I want to be with you. I want to wake up to you. Roll over and make love to you in the middle of the night. That’s all I’m asking, Cherrie. Give us those two weeks. Nothing more.”
Bad idea. It will not be as simple as he makes it sound.
If she were smart, if she possessed a self-protective bone in her body, she’d stand up, dress, get on her bike and drive into town. Not look back. This way only led to heartache, to longing for a future that didn’t belong to them.
She had to say no. As much as it would disappoint him and hurt her, she had to say no...
“Okay.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MADDOX HAD LIED.
After making love to Cherrie for the first time two weeks ago, he’d looked her in the face and lied.
When he’d told her he didn’t want forever, just the two weeks, it hadn’t been true. And now, as he watched her place her packed suitcases by his front door, he had to pay the price for that lie.
He stood in the foyer, composed and silent. But inside... Inside, he howled with panic, fear and grief. She was leaving him. Logically, he’d known the day after the rally would arrive, and he would have to watch her walk out his door. Yet somehow, he’d convinced himself that after the two weeks they’d shared—her hanging out at the bar with him, riding together, making the most passionate, soul-searing love, waking up together and sipping coffee out on the wraparound porch of his cabin... Somehow he’d convinced himself that she’d fallen in love with him just as he’d lost his heart to her, and Cherrie wouldn’t be able to leave Rose Bend. Leave him.
But he’d willingly, desperately fooled himself.
Cherrie had never spoken of a future for them. Never led him to believe she’d changed her mind about being wrong for him—being wrong for each other. Which was bullshit. She was created for him. His most primal instinct declared that fact with the assuredness of the sun rising in the east. Still, as each day passed, his hope of her realizing this truth diminished until here they stood. Her, with one foot literally out his front door, and him standing there, helplessly watching with a travel mug of coffee in his hand.
If this wasn’t so pathetic, he’d laugh at the absurdity of it.
“I think that’s everything,” Cherrie said, swiping her palms down the outside of her denim-encased thighs in a gesture that Maddox had come to realize was her tell. She was nervous.
Of what? That he’d throw himself at her feet and beg her to stay?
No, she didn’t need to worry. He wouldn’t do that.
Probably.
Maybe.
Fuck it. He couldn’t make any promises.
“Here.” He handed her the travel mug. “Coffee for the road. I’ll take your bags to the RV.”
“Maddox, you don’t have to do that. I got them.”
“Cherrie,” he said, not dropping his arm with the coffee. “Take the coffee. I have the bags.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. But the corner of her mouth ticked up, and it required every bit of restraint not to press a kiss there. He needed to get out of here. Just for a few minutes to get himself together. And carrying her suitcases to the RV that would take her away from him provided the perfect excuse.
By the time he had the luggage stowed away and double-checked the security of the hitch connecting the trailer housing her motorcycle, he’d gotten ahold of himself and returned to the house.
“You’re good to go,” he said, sliding his hands in his front pockets.
“Thanks.” She smiled, but it trembled, and his gut rolled. “And thank you for the coffee. It’s really good. You could give Mimi’s Café a run for its money.”
“Now that’s just blasphemous,” he drawled, in spite of the pain clenching his chest.
She snorted, but it was faint, and this attempt at normalcy, at “we’re just buddies preparing to say goodbye,” grated his nerves. They were so much more than that. At least she was to him.
“Cherrie—”
“Wait. I have something for you.” She bent and picked up a small gift bag by the door that he hadn’t noticed. “I made it just before leaving for Rose Bend, meaning to sell it at Daryl and Belinda’s store. But I couldn’t. This was...is yours.”
Surprised, Maddox silently accepted the bag and reached inside, removing the tissue paper–wrapped item. In seconds, he held a black leather cuff similar to the one he’d noticed her wearing the first night at the bar. But this one was thicker, and instead of lotuses, silver Celtic crosses adorned it. He blinked, battling back the sting of tears as he stared at the gorgeous piece created by her own hands and that paid homage to his heritage.
He cleared his throat, “Thank you” hovering on his tongue. Just as soon as he could squeeze it past his constricted throat.
But instead, when he parted his lips, “Stay with me” emerged.
He couldn’t tell who was more shocked, him or her. Though he craved nothing more than for her to choose him, he’d had no intentions of asking again, of pressuring her. But now that the plea echoed between them, he didn’t make excuses or play it off as a joke. He couldn’t. Not when he felt like he was fighting for his life. Because in a way, that’s exactly what he was doing. Fighting for their happiness, their future. For them.
So no, he didn’t take it back. He repeated it. “Cherrie, stay with me.”
“Maddox,” she breathed, already shaking her head, but he crossed the space he’d deliberately placed between them, cupping her face and stopping the motion.
“Listen to me, baby,” he said, his thumbs sweeping over her cheekbones. “You love it here. I’ve watched you since you’ve been here. This town, Daryl and Belinda. You could be happy in Rose Bend if you just give it a chance.”
“Yes, for two weeks out of the year, Maddox,” she argued, circling his wrists. “For vacation. But moving here? That’s not realistic.”
“Why?” Urgency roughened his voice. “Why is it more realistic than living in Chicago? Stay here. With friends. With me. With me, Cherrie.” He gave her head a small shake. “With the man who wants you here. Who can’t imagine waking up tomorrow and not having you here. Who loves you.”
She stared at him, her lovely eyes glistening. Gently, she tugged at his wrists, and he obeyed the nonverbal demand, releasing her.
“Y-you can’t love me. We just met. It doesn’t happen like that.”
“You can’t tell me how I feel, baby,” he countered softly. “And if you want to stand there and claim that you don’t love me, too, then you’re in denial.” He tilted his head, lowered his voice. Gentled it. “You love me, Cherrie. And that scares the shit out of you.”
“No,” she murmured. Then more adamantly, “No, Maddox.” She lifted her hands between the
m, palms out. “Just because you say it doesn’t make it so. This is what I didn’t want. If I’m scared of anything, it’s this. I shouldn’t have let this go on. Let this happen.”
“Let what happen?” he growled. “Like I said on that hill two weeks ago, this was inevitable. You lost control of your health, of your life months ago. And now you’re so determined to regulate everything. Your diet, your lifestyle, your body. Well, some things don’t work like that. When life, fate, God, or whatever you believe in offers you a thing of beauty and faith, you don’t analyze it to death. You don’t question the hows or whys. You just leap. I’m asking you to leap with me, Cherrie. I swear I will never let you fall.”
“You think you’ll be there,” she rasped, a tear slipping down her cheek. “And I believe with all my heart that you want to be. But Maddox, you didn’t want the life your mother led. It’s why you settled here. You need a woman who will be here by your side day after day. Who you can make a home with. Like you said, someone you can wake up to. I am not her. I can’t be. I’ve tried being someone I’m not for another person, and it only ended in pain and disillusionment. You’ll only end up resenting me like Kenneth did.”
“Don’t compare me to that asshole. Would I love to have you here every day instead of on the road several weeks out of a month? Yes. That’s because I want to hoard every minute, every second I can spend with you. But it’s not the amount of time we spend together, it’s the quality of the time. It’s what we do with it. Baby.” He reached for her, but at the last minute, curled his fingers into his palm and lowered his arms, desperate to touch her, but not without her permission. “Your happiness, your success, your peace is more important to me than coffee together. I’ll take those weeks, days. I’ll build you a workshop behind the house. Or we can lease a shop in town. Whatever you need. Whatever brings you back to me. Let me be your home base.”
“I can’t.” She backed away from him, her face twisted in such pain that he nearly rocked back on his heels. “Don’t you get it? I can’t. Kenneth said he loved me, but he ended up despising my job, despising me. I got over that. But if you... Maddox, if one day I saw that same look on your face, I wouldn’t get over it. I don’t know if I could survive that. So maybe I am scared or a coward. But at least now, you don’t hate me for not giving you what I can’t. For being who I’m not. I’ll take that, Maddox. It’s not much, but I’ll take it.”