by Casey Hagen
My arms grew heavy, my lungs ached, and tears filled my angry eyes as he slid us both under the rail and off the track, never letting me down while he did it.
Proficient fucker.
His skates pounded the concrete floor, the reverberation shooting through him and into me so hard my teeth rattled with it, and my mouthguard fell out with a wet splatter as he stalked away from my team.
“Practice is over! Go home!” he bellowed as he snapped open the door to his office and slammed it shut behind him, making the glass behind the blinds quake.
Dropping me on my skates, he backed me right up against the wall. “What the fuck was that?”
“You don’t know? Maybe I wasn’t doing it right then,” I spat before bringing my palm up and slapping him with everything I had, the sound of my skin snapping across his cheek a crack of thunder before an ominous silence filled the room.
His nostrils flared, his brows dropped low over his now black eyes. With a flick of his fingers, my chinstrap popped free and my helmet skittered across the floor. Grabbing me by the jaw, his fingers trembled against me as he held me there with the pads of his rough fingers sinking into my skin.
I lifted my chin and refused to look away. He fucked up, not me.
He wanted me to stand up for myself?
Fine. I did.
Now what?
“You hit me.” He growled the words against my mouth as he sucked in a furious breath, nuzzling his nose against my cheek.
I dug my nails into the skin just above the back of his shorts and pulled him against me hard. “Let go of me and I’ll do it again.”
He ground against me, hard and ready, the promise of him dragging a ragged hiss from between my lips.
“You’d like that, but no—that’s not what we’re doing now. You had your shot. You won’t get another.”
I reached for him, my hands wrapping around his balls through his shorts and squeezing.
“Jokes on you. I like it hard, Mayhem.”
He curled his hand into the waistband of my shorts at my hip and jerked the fabric down. Panting against me as he teased the corner of my mouth with his lips, his hand shot along the elastic, the back of his hand grazing right over my hot center right before he dragged down the fabric on the other hip.
“We have a rule,” I gasped out as his lips slid closer and my body defied me by clenching impossibly tight, leaving me wet with furious lust.
“No kissing. Got it,” he said with a jerky nod as he continued to yank back and forth until he had my shorts around my knees.
“I hate you.” I bit out the words, my body defying my head with every thrust of my hips against him.
Seeking. Wanting. Needing him inside me.
“We both know that’s a fucking lie,” he said as he dragged his own shorts down his thighs.
“You’re an asshole.”
He let out a scathing laugh. “This isn’t news.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to fuck you.”
I plunged my hands under his shirt and met hot, smooth skin. “What if I want to do the fucking?”
He pressed his forehead against mine. “You already have, Mayhem. I’m here breaking all the rules for you. I’ve torn open every fucking wound I have…for you,” he said, his words full of torment. “You’ve fucked me from every goddamn direction but one,” he said before swooping his arm behind both of my knees, squeezing my thighs together as he scooped me up, leaving my legs draped over his arm and off to his side. Taking another half step into me, he forced my knees to my chest with the cold wall digging harder into my back.
Leaving me exposed.
So fucking wet and exposed.
“Two assaults. Guess if you actually stuck around instead of running away, you’d be on the payroll and obligated to arrest me,” I said, delivering the words with a scathing edge while I bucked in his arms, daring him to do his worst as the head of his cock grazed over me.
A shimmer of guilt rippled in his eyes before he blinked it away, gnashed his teeth, and plunged hard and deep.
23
My chest swelled with my labored furious breaths. My muscles seized with my initial shock at her hand cracking against my skin.
Even as I knew I deserved it.
That I’d earned it a long time ago with my first betrayal.
Knowing she should punish me again because there’d be a next time.
There was no price I wouldn’t pay to finally watch her break free.
Because taking control back, taking that freedom it gave, even if it came with a complete break with sanity and reason in the heat of the moment, meant I wouldn’t destroy her when I walked away.
And walk away I would, because no matter how hard I tried, I hadn’t figured out how to break free of my own prison and the only way to keep people I loved close was by dragging them in with me.
I’d be leaving her here safe in this town I loved before proximity could change the course she’d set for herself. Before I could tarnish the bonds she’d made and the family she’d created here.
Guilt by association would destroy what she’d built.
My atonement couldn’t restore the damage done.
The stains of the past always bled through the fabric of the present.
Maybe if I’d known then that she was in my future, I would have made different choices.
I never would have left. My brother would be alive.
And Lana wouldn’t be serving a life sentence in that chair.
The pain never really subsided. It spread through me, just waiting for moments like this when it could forge together into a hard, hot blade slicing away at me from the inside out, making me frenzied for something, anything to force it back into the recesses again.
A sweet respite in pleasure, even if it came poisoned with betrayal.
Dark driving need took over as I slammed into her wet heat.
Her body stiffened in my arms even as her tight pussy clamped on to me, pulsing despite the pinch of pain clouding her eyes at the intrusion. My cock mercilessly stole every last pocket of space while demanding more, taking more, forcing her to stretch to the brink.
Her head dropped back against the wall with a thud. Her lips broke apart on a sharp inhale just to slide into a jagged groan.
Back arched, her breasts squeezed against my chest, the clothing separating us only adding to the frustration. Her neck stretched out before me, the cords taut, bringing the tattoos to life when they slid along with each flex as the ink climbed over her skin to the roots of her hair.
Tears shimmered in her eyes and I hissed between my teeth as I fought the urge to pull back and slam into her again.
There was no relief for my pain if I had to punish her to get it.
“You did this to me,” she said, her voice breaking, the adrenaline surging through her only moments before, slowly receding as she struggled past the tears clogging her throat.
The imprint of her hand burned on my cheek. The outline of her fingers carrying the bulk of the sting.
“I know,” I said taking a ragged breath.
I hurt everyone I love.
Everyone.
“You let her in where she could hurt me,” she said as one hand pushed against my shoulder even as she sunk her nails into my ass with the other and pulled me in deeper, animosity and need warring between us.
“I’m sorry,” I rasped. “God, I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Show me,” she whispered, her voice rough.
Eyes locked on hers, my heart squeezed as a hot tear rolled over the edge of her eyelid and cascaded down her flushed cheek.
I captured it with my lips at the edge of her jaw, the salty flavor ripe on my tongue as I drew out of her, shivered at the cold air hitting my wet cock, and drove back into her again.
Her fingers locked in my hair as she yanked my mouth under hers, her tongue diving for mine as I rocked into her, each thrust driving her up against the wall as she gasped agains
t my lips.
The kissing rule lay dead at our feet, lifeless and cold.
And now I understood why she’d grasped on and erected that barrier between us to begin with.
Danger lay here.
In the feeling.
In the way her body accommodated mine, her survival instincts all but nonexistent as she let the wolf right through the front door. Pulsed for him even, in every squeeze of her muscles around my throbbing cock begging for more.
Taking everything on the most primal level.
The vulnerable, intimate sounds spilling from her heated mouth fueled me faster and harder as we both spiraled into this attraction between us. As our bruised hearts called to one another despite reason.
Despite the dead end ahead.
Ignoring the frantic warning screams in the distance to turn back.
Eyes wild on mine, she sucked in a breath as she locked on my cock, ruthlessly squeezing, making me fight for every thrust.
A fractured cry tore from her throat as she bathed me with her wet release, her eyes glazing over as she quaked from the inside out.
She wasn’t seeing me anymore.
But fuck did I see her.
Her passion, her life force shimmering, finally breaking free on the track, and in my arms. Lost in pleasure, her chest heaving as she fought for every breath, she milked me. The sensation coiled tight, becoming so intense every thrust into her drew my balls up tighter until she became sweet pain, a live wire I was helpless to resist.
Refusing to dive off the edge alone, she anchored herself to me with the bite of her sharp nails carving into my skin while plunging barbs into my heart with the plea in her bright eyes.
Trapped, succumbing to everything she demanded, I toppled over with her.
Gasping breaths filled the room, each of us trying to gain control over our racing hearts. I cupped her chin and held her there while I took her mouth one last time before reality came crashing in, fucking up everything we found in this moment.
“Did you just fuck me with your skates on?” she whispered over my lips.
A laugh rumbled deep in my chest. “Hell yeah, I did.” I brushed a final kiss over her lips before taking a step back, easing her legs down at a more comfortable angle. “Like being on wheels could stop me.”
“God, that went straight to your head, didn’t it?” she asked with a loopy grin.
“Probably.” I gave her a lazy smile while her own skated feet dangled over my arm.
She reached for my hair, tugged, the satisfied smile curving her mouth falling away in an instant, a painful cry slipping through her lips.
Yanking her hand back, she winced. “Shit.”
Lowering her to her skates, I steadied her arms until she got her balance, and carefully lifted her swelling hand. “We have to get that looked at.”
MAISY
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
That’s me.
Stupid.
And walking funny.
That part wasn’t stupid.
Priest marched me into the ER with a towel-wrapped icepack around my throbbing hand.
I was tired. Just sick and damn tired of the whole thing. And frankly, a bit worried about this newfound taste for violence I had.
Priest’s cheek still carried the mark from my hand even an hour later.
I hit a cop. Like, really hit a cop. Not one in this jurisdiction and it was a damn good thing he liked me and all, but holy fuck, I hit a fucking cop.
“Grab a seat and I’ll get you checked in,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead before steering me off to the waiting area.
If I couldn’t play in the snow, and frankly, with my bum hand I couldn’t play anything, I’d damn well wait in the small atrium of the waiting area and enjoy the pretty…a welcome distraction from the incessant beat of my heart pulsing in my swollen hand.
Pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to feel it there.
Rounding the corner, I skidded to a stop when I spotted Tilly. She lay slumped in one of the few chairs, her legs spread out, her head tipped back with a bag of ice on her eye.
She looked almost young again. Stripped of all expression, with her eyes closed, her face almost peaceful.
I’d seen her like this before, icing her face. Only we were fifteen and she’d been laughing at a joke I told her, flipped off the back of the swing she’d been lazily kicking herself on, only to have it nail her in the bridge of her nose when she sat up.
She’d bled down the front of her shirt—well, my shirt—my favorite, that I’d only ever let her borrow.
This had to end. This standoff between us robbing us of time and joy. Every faceoff costing us precious things we wanted.
I dropped into the seat and slumped alongside her. “Aren’t you tired? I know I’m fucking tired.”
She cracked open her good eye and sunk even lower with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, so fucking tired.”
“You were my best friend,” I said quietly.
“Until you left me.” Resigned hurt. That was the only way to describe her tone. Like it was one more letdown on the mountain of letdowns and she couldn’t let it go.
“I didn’t want to. I did everything I could to stay.”
She sighed. “I know. Fuck—I know.” She shifted the ice and hissed as she settled the pack against the goose egg that was her eyebrow. “I heard you begging them—asking them to find a foster home that would take us both. You always did dream big.”
“What you said about my mother—”
“It was a low blow. I guess…I just panicked. We fell into step on the track—”
“No, the first time. At Bay Wilderness. When you told those girls that my mother had to die to get away from me…”
She shook her head and swallowed hard. “I should have never said it. I never once meant it. You were leaving and I was going to be alone. The thought of that place at night, the crying, the fighting—living through that without my best friend, I latched on to whatever I could—whoever I could. And I was so damn hurt that my parents just signed me away. They were off living it up somewhere and I was reduced to a problem child on paper with a list of defects—all unlovable.”
All these years and she still carried it. Maybe more than the rest of us, but then the damage ran deeper with her, the twist of the knife in her back just the beginning of the betrayal. Total abandonment all because she didn’t conform to their idea of what she should be. Instead of accepting her, they slapped labels on her: difficult, stubborn, rebellious, and destructive. Her rich family, with all the money in the world, didn’t even pretend they cared by sending her off to boarding school or abroad under the guise of giving her a top-notch education or life experience—nope, they signed over their rights to the state, sold their properties in Galloway Bay and the surrounding areas and left.
They left her here where she’d have to forge a new life in the ruin of her old one. She’d catch glimpses of the places she called hers but would never be hers again. There was an extra dose of torture in that and I didn’t have to wonder why it turned into savagery to survive, or on the track.
“I loved you,” I whispered next to her, not quite ready to admit that I still did. Not sure she had earned the words.
“I know…you were so easy with love it was terrifying. Your mom taught you that.”
“She did.”
“What my family did to me, it doesn’t excuse what I did to you. It will never make it right. Those girls, there was only one way in with them. I had to speak their language,” she said, her voice thick with shame. “Cruelty. When I fell into step with them, I proved my parents right and I’ve been trying to live with that ever since.”
“I remember at one time it being us against them. I miss that.” I reached for her hand then and curled my fingers around hers. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too. So much I freaked. The team—they take their cues from you, you know,” she said with a quick squeeze of my fingers. “They were all ready to let me in the
minute you did. If I made it into that circle and lost you again, I didn’t know what I’d do.”
“We aren’t those kids anymore. We aren’t at the mercy of others. If you want to keep me, keep me.” I shrugged, my heart limping toward the signs of hope at putting this to rest. “And I’ll keep you.”
“Not so sure Priest will let me stay on the team after what happened.”
The man in question had appeared from around the corner and leaned against a pillar just seconds before, hanging back watching, but with less than ten feet between us, no doubt hearing our every word.
“Probably not,” I said as I met his eyes, smiling at the twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I guess it’s a good thing it’s not up to him.”
His dark eyebrow shot up and he cocked his head.
“You sure about that?” Tilly asked, sneaking a peek at me from her good eye.
I nodded. “Yup, I slapped him silly too.”
“You didn’t land that punch.”
“No, but look,” I said, pointing at the man himself.
Tilly pushed up in her chair and leaned toward Priest. “Ooooh, a direct hit. Wanna borrow my ice pack?”
“I’m good, thanks.” He slid his hands in his pockets and crossed one ankle over the other, settling in. Giving us space, but not letting me out of his sight. Tilly had to earn that trust back with good behavior I guess.
Or maybe I was the one he needed to watch out for.
“Let’s start over.” I gave her a cocky nod of my chin and narrowed my eyes all suspicious-like as though this was our first meetup in the yard at a state prison. “What are you in for?”
Tilly pursed her lips and bobbed her head. “Some crazy bitch lunged at me like I was Thor carrying a pizza in one hand and a six-pack in the other. Apparently, she didn’t like my beer choice so she pummeled my face.”
“How do you know she didn’t like the beer?”
“Cause she took off with the pizza,” Tilly said, hitching a thumb at Priest. “A total misunderstanding. She might have had rabies. Animal control is on the lookout on account of the attack being in daylight and all.”