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Damaged

Page 12

by Jeanne St. James


  Her thighs quivered, and she felt a fresh rush of warmth between her legs. “Your leg…”

  “Forget my leg. That’s not what hurts.”

  “Oh, God.” She groaned. “Mace…”

  “I know, baby.”

  He unbuttoned her lab coat and then her blouse. He nuzzled her neck, right at the delicate spot behind her ear, before unclipping the clasp of her bra, releasing her breasts. Her puckered nipples ached as he lowered his head to stroke one with his tongue. A moment later, he gave the other nipple the same attention. The warm wetness combined with the rough texture of his tongue once again almost drove her over the edge. Digging her fingers into his hair, she kept him there while he sucked one then the other into his mouth—softly nipping, kisses quickly following the scrape of his teeth. She released a low, drawn-out moan.

  This was torture. But torture never felt this good.

  He impatiently pushed Colby farther back on the worktable, knocking her paperwork to the floor unnoticed. She wanted to protest, but when he slid a finger along the soaked edge of her panties, no words escaped. And when he drove one and then a second finger deep into her, she gasped. To hell with her paperwork.

  “I’m,” his fingers slid out and along her pussy lips, “just,” they drove deep again, “going to,” he curved his fingers deep within her, “take you,” he stroked that spot, “right here,” that sweet, sweet spot, “right now.”

  Colby gasped again and was about to come. Just when she felt the beginning of the contractions, his fingers disappeared. Damn! He ripped her panties down past her knees. She tried to kick them off, but they got caught on one ankle. She was in no position to fix the problem, and frankly, she didn’t give a damn at that instant. She heard the zipper of his jeans then, Oh…the naked head of his cock slipped over her swollen clit, making her shudder. One tiny shift of her hips, and he would be inside her. He had to have read her thoughts, because he suddenly shifted, sliding his whole hard length against her heated flesh instead. His cock became slick with her arousal.

  “Do you want it?” He plucked once more at her nipples.

  “Yes.”

  “How much?”

  “I—”

  “How much?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  Why was he delaying? “A—a lot.”

  “You are so fucking wet. Lift your hips.”

  He leaned back slightly when she did.

  Colby tried to grab his hips with her legs to drag him closer. But he was fumbling with his jeans which were pulled down his hips. The denim framed his rigid cock, the dark curly hair, and his balls so nicely. But she didn’t want to see how hard he was; she wanted to feel it. Inside her. “Now,” she moaned.

  “Not yet.” He dug for his wallet.

  “Now!”

  “No.” He grimaced and cursed when the wrapper refused to tear open.

  “Mace…” She snagged the condom, ripped it open between her teeth and impatiently rolled it over his hot, steely length, stroking while she did it. When she reached the root of his cock, she cupped his balls and squeezed slightly.

  “Christ, Colby!” he panted. He fisted his cock once, twice, and his whole body shuddered in response. He grabbed her wrist, breaking the contact of her nails lightly raking his balls. “Fuck!”

  He held her hips tightly, tilted them a little higher, and with a grunt, he buried himself deep. As the breath whooshed out of both of them, Colby forgot how to breathe. He kept himself buried to the hilt and made small thrusting moves against her so his balls teased against her anus while his pelvis ground against her clit. The tiny thrusts drove her crazy. She needed to come. She couldn’t take it much more.

  With a grunt, he said, “Hold on.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Hold it.” He dropped his forehead to her chest and gasped for air.

  Her heart would thump right out of her chest if she didn’t come soon. “Mace!”

  He cursed, threw his head back while arching his back, and slammed his whole length into her again and again and again. Colby clawed at the counter, grabbing at nothing, and let out a low wail.

  “Now!” He came with force, and her contractions drew him even deeper until they were both spent.

  A moment later, he struggled to catch his breath. His chest heaved as he practically collapsed over her, the majority of his weight only held up by his forearms on the counter.

  When his breath came more evenly, he kissed her nose, her eyelids, her lips, before licking the hollow of her collarbone. She was sure it tasted salty.

  “Damn,” she whispered when she caught her breath. “That was one hell of a lunch break.”

  Mace chuckled softly against her shoulder, still buried inside her. “Your food’s getting cold.”

  She brushed the damp hair off his forehead. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  10

  He had promised Colby he would meet her at the house. They planned to start painting the porch today, but Mace was running later than expected. The hardware store had been understaffed and busy. Even worse, his order of eight cans of paint didn’t make them any happier, especially when he wanted them put in the shaker machine first. And that was after they had to mix the custom cream color Colby had fallen in love with.

  At least she had enough paint at the house to get started before he got there. He could picture her already splattered with paint—in her fiery hair, on her clothes, covering the freckles on her cute nose.

  As he steered his truck around the corner onto Colby’s tree-lined street, he noticed the back end of an old car sticking out of her driveway. The overgrown brush lining the property’s border concealed the rest. But there was enough of the vehicle exposed allowing Mace to recognize an early 90s Caprice. Primer gray.

  He fought the urge to slam his foot on the gas, to hurry to the house, to get to Colby as soon as possible. Instead, he pulled over to the curb and collected himself. He jammed the gearshift in park before hopping out of his truck.

  His instincts kicked in while he lurked along the edge of the property, staying close to the neighbor’s side of the shrubbery. When he got to the back corner of the property, he climbed through the vegetation and carefully snuck through the back door of the house.

  Colby couldn’t keep her mind off Mace no matter how hard she tried. She was happy. Really happy. At least for now. Every time she thought about having sex with him—the best sex of her life—at his house, at her house, at the lab, wherever, she practically melted into a puddle.

  But he frustrated her too. One minute, he would do something to anger her, the next minute, he would turn around and make her heart—and pussy—ache. She was falling deep…

  She tried to resist it. Resist him. But after only a couple weeks, she couldn’t. She felt nothing like this before. Never. She was in love…with his lovemaking. Only that, she tried to convince herself. She swore to herself over a year ago she wouldn’t fall into a similar trap again. She wouldn’t break her own promise.

  Though she would allow herself to enjoy Mace and all he offered for now. That was the limit. She’d enjoy his tenderness, his wildness, and his roughness. He didn’t think he’d be around for more than a couple months. She would take those days. And those nights.

  She painted the porch, making long, soothing strokes. Long, deep lines of color. Back and forth. Colby shut her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. She pictured Mace’s body above her, his cock hard and ready, nudging against her, opening her up—

  “Hey, babe.”

  Colby froze, the paintbrush tumbling from her fingers. She helplessly watched it fall on the new porch floor and splatter. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Nothing. But she closed her eyes once more and forced herself to take another deep breath. A slow, deep breath between trembling lips.

  “What kind of welcome is that?”

  The familiar male voice made her world spin. She clutched at the doorjamb to steady herself, her nails digging into the wood.

  “Aren�
�t you even going to turn around and give me a hug?”

  His hand gripped her upper arm and, with force, spun her around. Colby opened her eyes and looked straight into Hell. Craig.

  His dirty blond hair was still short and neatly trimmed. Blue eyes and lean muscle made up his six-foot frame; it was what had attracted her in the first place. But it wasn’t just lean muscle, it was pure mean muscle. And like Mace, he could sweet-talk anyone wearing a skirt. But only when he wanted to.

  “I’ve missed you something fierce.”

  Fierce wasn’t the word. Evil was more like it. The reason she had purchased the gun and learned how to shoot it stood in front of her. He was the sole reason she left her hometown—where she had been born and lived her whole life—to move here. Her little new-found heaven was fast becoming her living hell. Once again.

  “Cat got your tongue?” he purred. He reached out, brushing a knuckle down her cheek.

  She bit back a whimper. If she showed even a sliver of fear, he would only be more brutal.

  He liked fear. He fed off her terror. She shook her head, dislodging his hand.

  This was not happening. She had been painting too long, and the fumes had affected her. She only imagined this. Right? Right? Right!

  Wrong.

  Craig Jones lowered his head, bringing him only a hairsbreadth away, and inhaled deeply. “Your hair smells so good, babe. Damn, have I missed you.”

  “C-Craig. What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  He laughed. To Colby’s ears it sounded cruel, biting. “It wasn’t hard. There aren’t too many places where a biochemist can find a job.”

  “Why?” She pinned herself against the doorjamb, trying to get as far away from him as possible. He shifted closer, tilting his head. He planted one hand on the doorjamb, fingers close enough to grab her French braid in a split second.

  “Why? What a silly question. I just told you. I miss you.” He gave her a cold smile.

  “What happened to Rhonda?”

  “Rhonda.” He shook his head and smirked. “I don’t care about her. I don’t want her anymore. I want you back.”

  Her heart squeezed as if she might go into cardiac arrest. Hell, she wanted to have a heart attack. Anything. Anything to get away from this man.

  I want you back.

  I want you back.

  I want you back.

  “No,” Colby whispered and slid down the jamb to the floor.

  Craig grabbed her wrists and dragged her back up, his face a cruel mask just inches away. He continued to pull her arms until they stretched out above her, her wrists pinned to the door molding. He held them so tightly, her fingers quickly became numb.

  “No? Why not, babe? We were good together. You loved me! I loved you. I still do.”

  Something inside her snapped. She shouldn’t provoke him, but she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t help but poke at the beehive.

  “Craig, you loved me? Is that why you hit me? Kicked me? Broke my ribs and my arm? You almost loved me to death!”

  “I only hit you, babe, because you frustrated me with all your distrust and accusations!”

  She laughed, which even sounded insane to her own ears. “Oh God, Craig. You had other women behind my back. Why should I have trusted you? All my accusations were true.”

  “But, babe, they meant nothing. I only loved you.” He said it so slowly, Colby fought to keep the contents in her stomach down. This man was psychotic. Fate had played an evil trick on her when it brought him into her life.

  Craig released her wrists so suddenly, she fell back against the house siding. Her head cracked against the corner of the jamb. She ignored the pain, needing to show strength, not weakness. Otherwise, she was finished. He would never forgive her for leaving him, for sneaking away during the night from the hospital.

  He strode away from her before spinning around to pin her with his stare. “You don’t love me anymore?”

  She clenched her fingers into fists and wanted to spit in his face. “No. I haven’t loved you since the first time you blackened my eye.”

  “Colby, babe, I apologized for all that. I told you I’d never do it again. I promised.”

  Hysterical laughter bubbled up. I promised. How many times had she heard those empty promises? She heard them until her ears rang from his slaps.

  She glanced wildly toward the driveway at her parked car. Inside was the gun. And she wanted to blow this son of a bitch away.

  But, she would never make it to the car. Never. She took a deep breath to fortify herself. “This is my property, Craig. I don’t want you on it.”

  He gave her a lopsided smile. “Babe, please, you don’t mean it.”

  “Craig, I’m warning you. Get the hell off my property before—”

  “Before what? What are you going to do? Who’s going to stop me?”

  “Me.”

  That single word—those two little letters—brought a sense of salvation to Colby.

  Holy shit. Mace’s deep timbre never sounded so good. She could feel his presence behind her in the open doorway. His strength, his presence, was all she needed. She never needed him as much as she needed him that moment.

  She needed him, and he was there. He was there.

  “And who the hell are you?” Craig shouted. His chest puffed out, and he slammed his hands on his hips, taking a step closer to her.

  “Your worst nightmare. Believe me, asshole, I’ve dealt with more low-life, scum- sucking pigs than you. And let me tell you, I’ve squashed them like bugs. If you don’t believe me, just try me. I’ll enjoy breaking every goddamn bone in your fucking body.”

  Mace stepped around Colby and right into Craig’s face. He blocked her with his body. His voice lowered to a deep grumble. “If you ever, ever come or ever even think about coming on this property or bothering Colby again…I swear…you will never walk again. Never. And that’s no idle threat.”

  Colby didn’t doubt his words. Apparently, neither did Craig.

  For the first time, she saw her ex shrink in fear. She had done it so many times herself. Now, the tables had turned.

  “Now, you better get the hell out of here. If I ever see your face again, mine will be the last you ever see.” Mace’s words cut like cold steel, making it clear he wasn’t a man to be messed with.

  Colby shuddered as she heard the tremendous strength in those words. Feeding off of it, she stood straighter and stared Craig directly in the eyes. “You’d better go, Craig, if you know what’s good for you. Let me make something real clear before you go. I’m not interested. Stay out of my life.”

  “Yeah, I see. You’ve got yourself a new man,” Craig sneered while he backed down the porch steps. If he’d been a dog, his tail would have been tucked between his legs.

  They stood silently until he was out of sight.

  The silence felt tense, though, and violent energy still permeated from Mace’s body. She waited.

  “Who the fuck was that?”

  Colby recoiled. She couldn’t deal with his anger. Not now. She needed him to hold her while she sobbed in relief until she couldn’t cry anymore.

  “Colby! Look at me! Why didn’t you tell me about him? Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “I…I didn’t think he’d find me. Or even want to find me.”

  Mace stood stiffly, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Unbelievable. What if I hadn’t been here? What then, Colby?”

  She pressed the back of her hand against her trembling lips. “I don’t know. I was too far away from my gun.”

  He shot her an incredulous look. “Your gun? That’s why you have one? Jesus Christ! I mean…I knew someone hurt you. I knew it.” He fumed and paced the porch. “I just didn’t realize it was physically. Fucking bastard,” he ground out. “What were you going to do, Colby? Shoot him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. You would have killed him if you had the chance.”

  He was right. She would have. “Ye
s.”

  Mace groaned and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and rocking her back and forth. Her body shuddered, stiffened, then finally melted as a sob escaped her.

  “I hate him.”

  “I know,” he whispered into her hair. He smoothed his hands up and down her back, hugging her tighter. “He’s gone now.”

  “He might come back.” She shivered and sniffled. His T-shirt became damp with her tears. She was acting foolish, but she couldn’t help it.

  “He won’t. I promise.” Mace placed his lips on her forehead. Colby knew the promise was good; Craig would never come back. She was sure being a federal agent he could “make some calls.” But, honestly, she didn’t care what happened to the bastard.

  As she attempted to wipe her tears away with the back of her hand, he stopped her and kissed them away with his lips.

  “How much did you hear?” she asked, her voice still shaky.

  “Enough.” He sat down on the top porch step and enveloped her in his arms. “You should have told me.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I…” Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. There was no point in not being truthful with him. “I felt ashamed.”

  “You told no one?”

  Colby shook her head.

  Mace’s jaw clenched, she heard him suck in a breath, then felt the tension suddenly leave his body as quickly as it had come. “Colby, let’s go home.”

  I am home, she thought when he held her even tighter.

  Mace leaned back against the living room couch, his bare feet propped up on the coffee table, the evening news blaring from the TV in the background. Colby sat next to him quietly while he finished scanning the legal document in his hands.

  He gave a bitter laugh and threw the PFA onto the table in front of him. “What a fucking joke. You know those protection orders are useless, don’t you? What do they expect you to do? Throw it at him? Give him a paper cut?”

  “It’s better than nothing, I guess.” She’d been told the Protection From Abuse order would, well, protect her. She’d been grossly misled.

  “Yeah, shit, it really helped you out today, didn’t it?” He made a fist in his lap. “Even if you could’ve dialed 911, he could have seriously hurt you or even kidnapped you before any local donut-lover would have arrived on scene. Those pieces of paper can’t stop a bullet.”

 

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