Beyond the Seduction

by M.A. Stacie

  Trace grimaced. He’d been working the bar at Metro, the host of an underground boxing scene, for a few years. He’d watched many fights featuring Kyran Reese long before his sister had hooked up with the man. However, since they’d married and had Ella, the sight of Kyran pounding his fists into another man’s face didn’t sit well with him. His sister didn’t have the same problem with it, always letting Trace know that fighting was a part of Kyran. It was what he did, and he was good at it.

  Since Dale and Ella, Kyran had reduced the number of times he visited Metro, though Trace couldn’t dismiss the concern he had for his sister and niece. All it would take was one good punch to knock Kyran out. Maybe for good. He’d seen it happen, and without question, it would devastate Dale. She adored her husband.

  “Yeah, Kyran’s fighting. Pulls in real big crowds. His dad must be putting him through some shit for him to need the stress relief.”

  Drum shrugged. “Reasons don’t matter to me. I could use the cash I get after his victory.”

  Needing to end the conversation, Trace nodded and picked up his jacket. He shoved his arms into the sleeves, hating the sensations coursing through his body. His stomach sloshed at the thought of Emmie and Tatum, his chest aching with the constant loss he felt. He tried to shed the memories—they would get him nowhere, but they’d been his family, damn it, and he’d loved Tatum. Masking those thoughts was why he needed Shae. The woman had no idea how much she made him smile. She had the ability to hide all the blackness and brighten what was left of his life. She didn’t treat him as though he was wounded. She didn’t know any of it.

  Grumbling, Trace shoved the door to the bar open and walked out onto the street. A line had begun to form, people wanting to go into Carter’s for the night. He glanced along the line, mentally kicking himself for hoping he’d see her. She wasn’t in line.

  Sticking his arm out, Trace hailed a cab. He gave the alley a quick glance, his balls throbbing as he recalled how she’d felt pressed against him in the darkness. It was agony. He had to look away.

  A cab pulled up to the curb and the door opened. He was about to climb in when a familiar set of green eyes met his from within. “Hi.”

  His heart gave a double beat, exhilaration zapping through his veins like a rush of adrenaline. “You came,” he said, shooting her a dopey grin he wasn’t at all ashamed of.

  Shae smiled back, still seated in the cab. “I don’t know why.”

  “Sure you do. Move over.”

  Her brows drew together as she shuffled across the seat. Trace climbed in, giving the driver his address before he could second-guess himself.

  “Um, where are we going?”

  Trace took a moment to look at her, to regroup after seeing her again, before he replied. His gaze swept up her toned dancer legs, the sight making him salivate. Her skirt was short, though not indecent, her top a low scoop neck. The tips of his fingers tingled as the urge to touch her began to build. Shae continued to stare at him, doing her own assessment. The air grew thick within the confines of the cab, his cock starting to twitch in response to the increasing tension.

  Trace loved this part. The beginning. The game that asked more questions than it answered. The part that left both parties hungry for confirmation that their arousal was not flowing one way. Not that he needed it. Her arousal was reflected in her eyes, those eyes that were making his body come to life. The knot in his chest unfurled, and his shredded heart hurt a little less.

  “I promised you fun, so that’s where we’re going.”

  “Will I like your version of entertainment? I can’t say I was taken with it when you tried assaulting me.”

  Trace lowered his tone. “As I recall, I didn’t try. My hand was in your panties, and my tongue was in your mouth.”

  Shae snorted. “There you go again with your dirty words.”

  Reaching across the seat, Trace grasped her hand. “I only do it because you react to it. Your chest flushes pink. You like my dirty words, Shae.”

  She hung her head, her dark, bobbed hair hiding her face. She’d done that before. Whenever the conversation became too intense, she struggled to make eye contact. He was going to change that. The woman next to him would learn to look right at him during the most intense experience they could ever have. She was going to be with him all the way when he fucked her. More than anything, he needed to see her truth. He wouldn’t be fooled again, even if it was just something light between them.

  Twisting in his seat, he lifted his hand and combed her hair from her face. Shae looked up at him through her lashes, raising her face when Trace cupped her jaw. “My kind of fun will make so many other parts of your body blush. I can’t wait to see it.”

  “You’re talking as if your plan is a forgone conclusion.”

  Trace chuckled, flashing her a grin as his hand skimmed along her jaw to cup the back of her neck. “Are you telling me it isn’t?” He pressed his lips to hers, intending for it to be aggressive but as their mouths caressed it turned surprisingly gentle. Trace shuffled along the seat as his tongue slid across her bottom lip. His thigh pressed against hers, and a soft exhalation whispered between them. Shae reached up to grab the front of his jacket, another sigh slipping free.

  Her taste hit him hard, every drop of blood in his body rushing in one direction. To his cock. It kicked against the button-fly of his jeans as it tried to bust free from the confines of the denim. Sheer fucking torture. All thoughts of the cab ride and being cautious fled. Trace wanted oblivion, and he wanted it with Shae.

  Her tongue slipped into his mouth, tentative at first but steadily growing bolder. Lust pumped to the rapid beat of his heart, his kiss growing fierce as desire laced his every action.

  Breaking free, Shae pushed at his chest. Her eyes were wide, her breathing stuttered.

  He scowled as the desire-filled fog began to clear. “What the . . .”

  “Here,” she whispered, pressing her fingers against her kiss-swollen lips.

  Blinking, he looked around the cab, understanding when he saw what was outside the window. He’d been so lost in the kiss that he hadn’t heard the driver tell them they were at their destination.

  Wow.

  Still stunned, Trace tossed a few bills at the cab driver and all but dragged Shae out onto the street. He kept one hand locked around hers, the other fumbling in his pocket for his keys. When he found them and opened the main door, he paused. There would be no going back from this. The home he’d shared with Emmie and Tatum would be forever changed. To do this would be a huge step.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling Shae into the large hallway and up the stairs to his apartment. She laughed, and he could have sworn she muttered something to herself. Something about her being crazy. However, he chose not to question her about it. Instead, he opened his front door and turned to face her before they entered. “One question,” he said, surprised at how husky his voice sounded. “Fun. Yes? Casual. I’m not doing serious, Shae. I can’t.”

  She took one step toward him. “Casual. One night. Nothing more.”

  His apprehension eased at her response. He stepped aside to allow her in, grinning at her reaction to the space. She gawked, her mouth dropping open when she took in the expanse of the studio apartment. The room was only half filled. Emmie had taken most of it. Packing boxes littered the far wall and a solitary couch sat in the center.

  “Been here long?” she asked.

  “A while.” He shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the couch. “In fact, I’m looking for a new place.”

  “Too much space?”

  “Something like that.”

  He wasn’t going to talk about it with her, so with the express purpose of distracting her, he placed his hand on Shae’s shoulder and pushed the fabric of her top down her arm. Her gaze darted to the door as he repeated the action on the other side. The thin fabric slipped past her bra to pool at her waist. A curse left his lips at the sight of her breasts cupped in black lace. The lights remained
off, the street lights the only illumination they had, but Trace didn’t need the light to know Shae’s skin was pinking.

  He raised his hand, tracing the strap of her bra. He flicked the little bow that adorned it before trailing his finger along the swell of her breast. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to rip the thing off and feast on her delicious flesh. The woman had an amazing pair.

  Her focus remained on him, her bottom lip held between her teeth as she waited for his next move. He needed a taste. He licked his lips at the thought while he hooked his finger into the bra cup and tugged it down to reveal her pert nipple.

  “Trace, do you have protect—”

  He shushed her, lowering his head so that he could draw her nipple into his mouth. He flicked his tongue, feeling a shiver beneath his touch. Keeping her upright, he wrapped his arm around her waist, grunting when she pulled on his hair. The zipper on the back of her skirt took a few attempts, but he soon had it undone without tearing his mouth from her nipple.

  Shae mumbled and shimmied the skirt down her legs until it hit the floor.

  “Fuck this,” Trace snarled. Grabbing her hips, he picked her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Shae dug her fingers into his shoulders. The bite of her nails gave him something to focus on other than the throb of his balls. Drum was right—being nuts deep gave him what he needed.

  Desperation had him pressing her against the wall, his foot slamming the front door closed. Trace kissed her, nibbled her lips, and flicked her tongue with his. She writhed against his cock. Right now, he was so hard he was sure he could hammer fucking nails with it. Normally, he was all about the anticipation—loved the slow seduction and the way every touch intensified the moment. However, with his mouth on Shae’s, his cock grinding against her, it could all go to hell. He wanted to fuck her until she screamed. He wanted the people on the street to know his damn name because she was shouting it so loud.

  “Condom in my wallet,” he ground out against her neck. “Back pocket.”

  Removing her hands from his hair, she delved into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. He thought his arousal had peaked before but when the damn woman tore the foil wrapper open with her teeth, winking at him while she did, he almost lost it before he’d even sunk into her. That would be really fucking embarrassing.

  Toying with her, he nipped at her breast and enjoyed the sound that emanated from her mouth. He used the wall as support while unbuckling his belt and unfastening his jeans. Shae helped push them down, both of them laughing while removing his clothes. When she attempted to stand up, he stopped her, lifting her back into position and nestling his cock against her heated core. His erection twitched, wanting more than anything to be buried deep inside her. Trace refused to wait any longer, pulling her panties aside with such force he was sure he heard them tear.

  Shae rolled the latex on. The sensation of her gentle fingers on his hardened skin had him gritting his teeth. He bucked his hips against her wetness.

  “Trace,” she said breathlessly. “This isn’t fun. It’s torture.”

  Her attempt at humor had him smirking as he gave one quick push and buried his cock into her slick, hot heat. “Holy fuck!” The woman was unbelievably tight. So fucking tight.

  “That’s better,” she said on a purr. “Now do it like you mean it, Trace.”

  He fucked her against the wall of his apartment, the sounds of her cries echoing around the expanse. He tried to hold on, tried to prolong the experience, but when she gasped into his ear, nibbling at his neck as her pussy began to clench around his cock, he lost it. He would have been mortified if Shae hadn’t come just as fast, and as they panted, they stared at each other wide-eyed.

  The tremble in his thighs eased, and bit by bit he could hear something other than the rush of blood through his veins. Shae gave his chest a small shove, trying to lower her leg to the floor. He held her firm. “What are you doing?”

  “Once, right? Fun. Just fun.” She wriggled.

  “Babe, you aren’t going anywhere.” He nuzzled her throat. “That was the appetizer. No way in hell you’re getting out of here until I’ve had my main course and tasted what’s available for dessert.”

  Chapter 9

  Shae rolled over, the smell of coffee tugging her from slumber. Her nostrils flared, her stomach grumbling, reminding her how long it had been since she’d last eaten. It also reminded her of the vigorous workout she’d experienced last night thanks to Trace Jacks. The man had not lied. The night had been anything but serious.

  Four rounds of delectable fun.

  They would have gone for round five had they not collapsed into a sweaty, panting heap on his bed. Neither one had the energy to move at that point¸ so the tangle of limbs remained that way for the rest of the night.

  Groaning, Shae tested her body, stretching to feel a familiar soreness. Her muscles ached, her knees protested. None of that was surprising given the position she’d been in on the wood floor. Round three, she thought, but then she could be mistaken. Her arms hurt, too. Trace had worked her harder than any dance session she’d undertaken.

  Smiling, she replayed the night in her head and pushed her hair from her eyes.

  “Morning, sunshine.”

  Shae flopped onto her back, not bothering to cover up her nakedness. The man had seen it all last night, so covering up now would be ridiculous. “Hey.”

  Trace stood at the foot of his bed wearing a pair of unfastened, dark jeans and clutching a mug. His disheveled hair stuck out at odd angles, looking like he’d spent the night having sex. Another reminder that they’d done exactly that.

  Pleasure rushed through her, the thought that her fingers had helped do that to his hair had pride swelling within her chest. The feeling intensified when she noticed a small hickey on his neck. She’d marked him as hers, temporary though it was.

  “You want some coffee?” he asked, lifting his mug.

  “God, yes.”

  “Not the first time I’ve heard you say that in the last twenty-four hours, babe.”

  Her stomach flipped, her skin heating at his guttural tone. “Yeah, um, I’ll apologize in advance for any complaints you get from your neighbors. I was a little—”

  “Loud? You were, but I fucking loved it.”

  “Thanks?” she replied, well aware that it came out as a question.

  Trace snorted and shook his head. “I should be thanking you, but there you go again making me smile.”

  Shae sat up, searching the floor of the loft space for her discarded clothes. “It would appear I aim to please.”

  Trace tossed her a T-shirt she didn’t recognize, and when she slipped it on, she was surrounded by his deep, musky scent.

  “No aiming, babe. You pleased. More than once.”

  “We had a good time, huh?” She climbed out of bed, walking with him to the small kitchen area.

  “Yup. It was totally what I needed. That’s why I should be thanking you.”

  “Seems a bit off for you to thank me for sex.”

  He smirked. “And yet I am.”

  Shae reached over and poured herself a coffee, the silence not as awkward as she’d expected. The night with Trace had been wild and intense. She’d experienced thrills she had never had with any long-term partner. The intensity led her to believe the morning after would be uncomfortable. Yet they were now teasing each other as they had in the days prior to their night of passion.

  Taking a slow sip of the bitter brew, she eyed him over the mug. His startlingly bright gaze met hers, causing her thighs to clench. The look he shot her dripped with sexual intent. It left her uncertain how to proceed. Their agreement had been a casual one night.

  “Do you need a ride home?”

  Shae took another sip of her drink while weighing up her options. “Kicking me out?”

  “No.” He rubbed his chest. “I just don’t want you thinking your only option is a cab. I’m happy to give you a ride.”

  The teenager in her h
ad her giggling. “You did that. Last night.”

  Trace snickered. “And you say I have a dirty mouth?”

  “I didn’t say anything naughty,” she protested, shifting to sit on a stool by the counter. Trace watched her, his gaze heating as he stared at her legs. His T-shirt covered very little, even though it was too large for her.

  She liked his flare of interest—it made her regret the night a little bit less. His continued appreciation of her meant that the attraction was real, but he was serious about it being a one-night thing. He wasn’t her first one-night stand, but she didn’t make a habit of partaking in them either. They were good for the ego until she was alone.

  “Maybe you should . . . say something naughty.”

  Shae stared at him. Was he probing for more from her? More than just one night? She opened her mouth, trying to think of a way to address it when he tipped the remains of his coffee into the sink and turned his back on her. “I can take you to the studio or home, if you give me directions.”

  Draining her mug, she stood up and began to collect her clothes off the floor. Whatever it was that Trace felt for that moment had now disappeared. He’d locked it down and ended any further conversation.

  “I can get a cab, Trace. You don’t have to go out of your way to get rid of me.”

  “Not what I’m doing, babe.” He bent down and picked up her purse, handing it to her before he spoke again. “That was vibrating its way across the floor this morning. I’m assuming your cell phone’s in there. Otherwise, you have a mouse living in your purse.”

  “It’ll be my friend checking up on me. I told her I was meeting you.”

  “The blonde who was having a fit at Carter’s?”

  “Ha! Yeah, Kate. I’d better text her.” She began tugging on her skirt, still looking around for her panties. Without a hint of embarrassment, she pulled Trace’s T-shirt off and tossed it back him. She felt his gaze on her as she fastened her bra and put her top on but she didn’t make eye contact. When she did look up, she was surprised to see him wearing the T-shirt she’d just removed. She still didn’t have her panties.