Hearts in Darkness Collection (Hearts in Darkness Duet)

by Laura Kaye

  Well now she was turned on. “Appetizers after, remember?”

  He nodded, his crooked smile bringing one of his dimples out to play.

  Heath gave her a few instructions and then his tattoo machine came to life on a low buzz. “Let me know if you need a break. This one’s going to take a little while, so it’s completely fine.” From the corner of her eye, she caught him dipping the tip into a little cup of black ink, and then leaned in, his gloved hand falling on her back.

  Makenna bit her lip at the first contact of the needles. It kinda hurt, like something almost sharp scratching you, but it was tolerable. “Not too bad,” she said to Caden, who was sitting in a chair right in front of her.

  “There will be more sensitive places, but nothing you can’t handle,” he said, his dark eyes full of a sexy look that was part pride, part satisfaction, and part lust. Appetizers were going to be good.

  “How you doing, Makenna?” Heath asked.

  “Good,” she said, staring at Caden. “No problem.”

  “So Caden said you two met in an elevator,” Heath said, amusement plain in his voice.

  “We really did. We were trapped in it for over four hours,” Makenna said, smiling. It was a little weird to talk to someone she couldn’t look at, but she couldn’t move while he was working. “In my office building. I rode it just today.”

  “That’s quite a way to meet someone,” Heath said with a chuckle. “How come nothing like that ever happens to me?”

  “Maybe you don’t ride enough elevators,” Makenna said.

  The tattoo machine pulled away from her skin. Heath laughed. “I guess I don’t,” he finally said, leaning back in.

  The needles hit a sensitive spot along her spine that had Makenna grimacing. Originally, she’d been thinking of putting the piece on her shoulder, but when she’d decided on the bigger size, she thought it would look better in the center. Heath had warned her that the central placement meant inking over bone, which could hurt more, and it sure did.

  Caden braced his elbows on his knees so he could lean closer. “Want to play twenty questions?” he asked.

  She smiled, knowing he was trying to distract her and appreciating the heck out of the gesture. “Are there still questions left we haven’t asked each other?”

  “Probably,” he said. “For example, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you your favorite sex position.”

  “No laughing,” Heath said, as Makenna tried to hold back her humor. Heat filled her cheeks. “Also, TMI. However, I like TMI, so feel free to answer, Makenna.”

  Since the needle was away from her skin, she did laugh that time. “Okay, so maybe there are questions we haven’t asked.” She winked at Caden as Heath got back to work. “And, to answer the question, the second part of the night on my floor.”

  Caden’s gaze went molten. He flicked at the spider bite piercings with his tongue. And that had parts of her going molten, because she knew how freaking talented that tongue was.

  “Yours?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “The same night, but the first position,” he said, flicking at his piercing again. So, his favorite was her on top of him. That had been hot too. The position gave her a fantastic view of so much of his ink and all of his piercings, not to mention his darkly handsome face as she took him into her body again and again. She could still hear his voice saying, Ride me, Makenna. Use me. And just the memory made her need to squirm in her seat.

  “What’s your favorite holiday and why?” she asked.

  “Thanksgiving,” he said immediately. “Because this Thanksgiving was the best of any holiday I’ve had in years. Almost the best I can remember.”

  Aw. That answer hit her right in the chest and made those words want to jump off her tongue again. “Mine has always been Thanksgiving, too. Although Christmas is a close second. Those are the holidays that always bring family together again.”

  Caden nodded. “What is one thing you’d change about your life if you could?”

  She studied him for a moment, wondering if this was just a playful question in the game or if he was still wondering about her feelings for Cameron. But the answer was an easy one. “I wouldn’t change anything about my life.”

  Eyebrow arched, he gave her a skeptical look. “There has to be something.”

  Makenna thought about it for a long moment, then took a few seconds to breathe through another sensitive patch of skin. “Um, then, I would’ve wanted my mother to have lived longer so I could’ve known her. But then, honestly, if she had lived I wonder if my relationship with my father would’ve been as close. I would hate to lose that. Do I get to ask that one back?” She didn’t want to put him on the spot in front of Heath, but he’d asked the question and had to know she’d want to ask it of him, too. That was how they’d played this game in the elevator that night, the game that had helped bring them so close together.

  He gave a tight nod and waved a hand at himself. “I’d get rid of the anxiety and the claustrophobia and all that bullshit.”

  “I get that,” she said, hating that he wanted to change anything about himself when she loved him so much just as he was. She didn’t want perfect, she just wanted him. In all his gorgeous, funny, considerate, and sometimes angsty glory. “But you do realize, if you hadn’t been claustrophobic the day we met, you might not have asked me to talk to you in that elevator. You might not have needed my help, and then we might not have gotten to know each other.”

  He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in a way that brought out the harshness in that utterly masculine face. Finally, he gave her another nod. “Fair enough. Your turn.”

  Wanting to lighten the mood, she thought of something funny to ask. “What’s your favorite line from The Princess Bride?” She was already smiling as some of her favorites came to mind. Funny movies of all kinds were their thing.

  Caden grinned. “When Vizzini says, ‘Inconceivable!’ And Montoya says, ‘You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.’ Oh, or maybe when Vizzini says, ‘Stop rhyming and I mean it,’ and Fezzik replies—”

  “Anybody want a peanut?” all three of them said in unison. The needle pulled away from her skin and they all laughed.

  “There are too many good ones in that movie,” Heath said.

  “It’s true,” Makenna said, her cheeks hurting from smiling. “I like the priest who pronounces ‘marriage’ as ‘mawage,’ and of course the classic, ‘My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father—”

  “Prepare to die,” they all said again to more laughter.

  The questions went on for a long while. They talked about silly stuff like favorite ice cream flavor, what they’d eat for their last meal, and what other countries they’d want to visit, since neither of them had ever been outside the States. They asked about more serious stuff like what job they’d want if they couldn’t do their current one and what the top items on their bucket lists were. As always, the conversation was fun and engaging, animated and moving. They’d always given great talk.

  “I’m about two-thirds done,” Heath said. “Let’s take a little break.”

  “Okay,” Makenna said, standing up to stretch. She was tempted to look in the mirror, but she really wanted to wait to see the finished tattoo.

  Caden stepped to her side as if to look.

  She whirled away. “You get to see when I get to see—when it’s done,” she said, not knowing if Heath had added the part Caden didn’t know about.

  “So it’s like that, is it?” he asked with a smirk.

  “It’s exactly like that.” She gave him some smirk right back.

  “You’re doing great, you know,” he said. “It’s a big tattoo for your first time.”

  She checked to make sure Heath wasn’t right behind her, and then said. “I like it big. You should know this.”

  The smile he gave her said he wanted to devour her. “Is it time for appetizers yet?”

  “Ready to wrap this up?” Heath sa
id, sitting down on his rolling stool again.

  “Definitely,” Makenna said, taking her seat. “And for the record, Caden, it’s almost time.”

  Caden had really enjoyed sharing this experience with Makenna, and he was still kinda blown away by the fact that she wanted to do it in the first place. He knew that she really liked his tattoos, but she’d told him that she’d always been afraid they would hurt. And here she’d barely reacted the whole time.

  He wasn’t surprised, though. Makenna was soft and sweet, but she could also be tough when she needed to be—like when she was calling him on his bullshit, or like how she was so well adjusted about the death of her mother.

  “There,” Heath said after a while. “All done.”

  The smile Makenna wore absolutely owned Caden. It really did.

  “Can I see it now?” she asked. Heath handed her the mirror, and she walked kinda backward toward the full-length. “I get to see it first,” she said, grinning at him and sticking out her tongue. For a long moment, she studied herself, moving the hand-held mirror this way and that, and then her eyes went glassy. “I really love it,” she said. “Heath, you are so talented. It’s amazing.” Her joy was palpable, and it lit Caden up inside.

  “Caden, I like this woman a lot. You’re welcome to bring her around absolutely any time,” he said with a wink.

  Makenna laughed. “I mean it, it’s great. So much better than I even imagined.”

  “Well, you’re welcome,” Heath said.

  “Do I get to see it now?” Caden asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

  “You do,” she said, her expression suddenly shy. She turned around, and Caden came closer.

  The black ink was stunning against her fair skin. And she was right, Heath’s work was meticulous as always, crisp and clean and executed perfectly. The Celtic knots were beautiful, and the way the tree blended with them was interesting and unique. Across the bottom, six initials in an old-looking font formed a curve among the tree’s roots—M, E, P, I, M, C. Caden looked closer. The second M had a smaller letter hanging off of it on a little flourish. C.

  “Say something,” she said.

  He met her gaze in the mirror. “It’s incredible,” he said. “And it looks fantastic on you, just like I knew it would. What’s the little letter C?” That hadn’t been on the design she’d shown him earlier.

  Meeting his gaze in the mirror, her expression went so, so soft, and she gave a shy little shrug. “The C…is for you.”

  The words hung there for a moment, and it was like the room sucked in on him. “For me?” he heard himself say as if from a distance. Blood rushed through his ears.

  She nodded.

  “But…but this…this is your family tree,” he said, the room going a little Tilt-a-Whirl around him.

  In an instant, she was right in front of him, hands on his chest and bright blue eyes staring up at him. “To me, it feels like you are part of my family, Caden. And I wanted you there.”

  “I…I…don’t know….” He shook his head, entirely overwhelmed and overcome. “I mean, that’s amazing of you to do. I just can’t believe you did it,” he said, not exactly sure what he was saying.

  And then something else occurred to him. She’d put his initial on her body. It wasn’t exactly the same as his name, but close enough. And he’d always heard that tattooing a lover’s name jinxed the relationship. It was bad luck. And for him, was there any other kind?

  It was a stupid superstition, of course. But it was like him resisting telling her “I love you” because he didn’t want to tempt the fates, or the gods of mayhem, or whoever was responsible for bad things happening to good people. His brain was already imagining the ways that little curve of a C could be easily changed into something else—a heart, a clover, another knot.

  And Jesus, here he was thinking about not wanting to tell her that he loved her when she’d permanently claimed him on her very skin.

  “No one’s ever done something like that for me, Makenna,” he finally managed, his brain still only vaguely connected to his mouth. “It’s…it’s amazing.”

  Her smile was pure joy. “I hope you don’t mind. Once I thought of it, it just felt so right. So I went with it. You’ll always be a part of me.”

  “Let’s get you bandaged up,” Heath said, waving her over to the chair again.

  Caden watched him work on Makenna and listened to him give her aftercare instructions, but he did it all as if he was watching it from across the room, from somewhere outside his body. His heart raced and his chest went tight.

  Clearly, the tattoo of his initial plucked at his anxiety, but what he said was true—no one had ever done something this special for him. Ever. It was just that, offuckingcourse, that made him scared.

  Terrified, actually.

  After everything he’d lost, how could he have something so, so good for keeps?

  Chapter Ten

  Caden was ravenous for Makenna the minute they walked through her apartment door. He was on her in an instant. Pressing her back against the kitchen counter. Dropping her purse to the floor. Tugging off her coat.

  He was using her. He knew he was. Using her to help shut down all the bullshit in his head. Because when he was with her, when he was in her, it all went away. It always fucking went away.

  But she seemed to be right there with him. Shoving off his jacket, burrowing her hands under his shirt, jerking it up. They worked it off together.

  Their kisses were urgent, deep, rough. He devoured her—her skin, her tongue, her moans. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  “Still…too…many…clothes,” Makenna rasped around the edge of a kiss, her hands pulling at the button to his jeans.

  “God, I need you,” he said, his mind an overwhelming blur, his chest still too tight from before.

  “I’m right here,” she whispered. “Right here.”

  But for how long?

  The thought came out of nowhere and struck him stupid. He froze, then blinked. As if someone had just unexpectedly punched him in the face.

  “Caden?” Breathing heavily, lips swollen, Makenna peered up at him in the dim glow thrown off by a light mounted on the bottom of one of the cabinets.

  He hoped the dimness hid the parts of him he didn’t want her to see. Like the darkness had in the elevator.

  “Need you,” he said again, diving back into the kiss. He pulled her with him as he walked them haltingly toward her bedroom. They were a tangle of hands and kisses and shedding clothes. By the time they’d reached the bed, Caden was hard and aching and desperate to bury himself inside her.

  “Condom. Hurry,” she said.

  He couldn’t have agreed more. He had it on in a flash and then he turned her to face the bed. “Kneel,” he rasped.

  Makenna crawled onto the bed, her back arching so fucking beautifully, her ass right there and waiting. Her tattoo flashing at him from under the protective plastic wrap in the ambient light coming in through the window.

  He couldn’t wait.

  He couldn’t.

  Taking his cock in hand, he found her opening and pushed home.

  She took all of him. Just like she always did.

  Buried deep, her body accepting every bit of him, her moans proclaiming her pleasure, all the noise between his ears ceased. Just fucking went quiet.

  And it was such a relief that all he could do was give in to the goddamned incredible perfection of it.

  His hips started moving, slower at first, but quickly faster, chasing, needing. He grabbed hold of her hip with one hand and her shoulder with the other, his focus centered on her tattoo—on his C. On the way she’d claimed him when he couldn’t even—

  No.

  He slammed his eyes shut and focused on the slick friction of her body accepting his, on the softness of her skin against his. The sounds of harsh breathing and colliding bodies and the stream of moans spilling from her lips filled the room, and he focused on those, too.

  It did the job. Too
well. Because out of nowhere his orgasm was an unstoppable force. “Fuck, I’m coming,” he gritted out. His cock jerked with each spasm, his hips moving in punctuated thrusts as it played out. He was almost numb from the intensity of it. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, easing out of her. It was the first time in all the times they’d been together that he hadn’t taken care of Makenna first.

  Because you weren’t really with her just then, were you?

  She turned onto her side, her smile apparent in the dimness. “Why would you apologize? That was freaking hot.”

  He disposed of the condom, then returned to her on the bed. “Let me make it up to you, Red,” he said, slipping in behind her, his hand sliding over her hip.

  “Caden, maybe you can’t see the blissed-out expression on my face in the darkness, but trust me, I’m not complaining right now.” Humor was plain in her voice, which meant she hadn’t clued in to how out of it he was.

  “I want you to come,” he whispered in her ear, making sure he didn’t press against her tattoo. It would be tender for a few days. He pulled her thigh over his, opening her core to his touch. “I always want you to come.” She was wet and hot, and her hips pressed into his fingers as they swirled in a firm circle over her clit.

  On a long, low moan, she pressed her face back against his, enough that he could make out her expression. Eyes closed, she did look blissful, happy, trusting. And instead of that making him feel better, it suddenly made him feel like a fraud. Because he couldn’t give her all of him, could he? He wouldn’t reveal all of himself to her, would he? He shouldn’t burden her with all the doubts and fears and uncertainties that had been building up inside him lately, should he?

  Eyes tightly shut, he leaned his forehead against hers and concentrated on stroking her just like she liked it. He needed to give her this. At least this. If not everything she deserved.

  She deserves better than you.

  “Oh, God, I’m coming,” she said, her hips surging. “Oh, God.” Her body shuddered through the climax, and then she sighed on a long breath. “Wow. Appetizers rock.”