by Bethany-Kris
“No, you’re certainly not. I had you pretty hot earlier, didn’t I?”
Melina’s cheeks tinted with a light pink. “Hey, now—”
“Keep your bark, Melina.”
“Mac!”
“Save the bite for later,” he finished with a wink.
Melina huffed, crossed her arms, and glared at him from the passenger seat. “Does this really seem like the right time for you to go on with your usual cockiness? Do I look like I’m in the mood for any of that?”
“You look like you need a break,” Mac answered honestly.
And she did.
Melina’s eyes were tired, her usual fight was dulled. She wasn’t sitting as straight as she usually would in her seat, and a wariness emanated from her.
“So,” he continued, drawling out his words, “… forgive me if I’m trying to make you relax a little bit, doll.”
“Relax, huh?”
“Yes. It seems as though we’re going to be spending a lot of time together in the near future, and not all of it will be fun. Relax. Get comfortable. Right now, we’re safe. Chill the fuck out and don’t sweat the rest.”
“Easy for you to say,” Melina muttered. “No one wants to kill you.”
“You do realize that my public statements about being with you put me on the same platform as you, right?” Mac asked quietly. “Calling you mine, vouching for you, and bringing you into the fold like I did, makes me responsible for you, Melina. If Luca decides to pull the trigger on you, then I will quickly follow.”
Melina quieted in her seat. “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’.”
“I didn’t know it was like that.”
“The mob sees a man for what he is underneath his charming smile and nice clothes. A human—one with a word and blood. If his word can’t be trusted, then his blood can be spilled. You have my word, Melina. Please let me keep the blood from spilling, too.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“That all you got?”
Melina sighed. “No, but I’m too tired and confused to come up with something better. I think relaxing sounds pretty damn good right now.”
“I agree. How big is your bathtub?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your bathtub. How big is it?”
“Big enough,” she replied.
“For two?”
Melina glanced away, but Mac had seen the hint of her smile before she did. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“I guess we will, doll.”
“This was not what I thought you had in mind when you asked if my tub could fit two people,” Melina said softly.
Mac grinned, continuing his massaging of Melina’s ankles and calves from the other side of the large bathtub. Her smooth, caramel skin, wet from the hot water and bubbles, felt like satin under his fingers and palms.
“Is that so?” he asked.
“I thought … well, never mind.”
“Sex. You thought I wanted sex.”
Melina shrugged. “Don’t most men?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, doll?”
“You’re not most men,” she said, sinking lower under the water.
“Well, I try not to be.” Mac laughed a husky chuckle. “I won’t deny that I’m not thinking about sex with you in this tub right now, but that’s not what you need.”
Melina opened one eye, watching Mac over the mounds of bubbles and sloshing water. “How do you know what I need?”
“The same way that you knew what I needed earlier at the Pivetti mansion. It’s no different. People pick up on things, doll. Now, shut that pretty mouth and let me work here.”
She did, but not without a playful glare.
Mac went back to his exploration of Melina’s legs. Her quiet little moans filled the bathroom as he massaged away the stress in her muscles and washed her mile-long legs.
“A good man always takes care of his girl,” Mac said quietly.
Melina’s eyes opened again at those words. “But I’m not really your girl, Mac.”
“So? I should still take care of you.”
“What if I was?”
“My girl?” Mac asked.
“Yes.”
Mac cocked a brow, eyeing Melina as she grabbed a loofa off the ledge of the tub and began dropping dollops of milky-colored body wash onto the frilly cloth. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
Melina drew the loofa over her arms, covering her slick skin in white suds. “If I was your girl, then what would you do, Mac?”
Ah.
Mac smiled, leaned forward, and snatched the loofa from Melina’s hand. He ignored her quiet “hey” and started running the loofa up and down her legs with smooth, long strokes.
“Mac, I asked you a question,” Melina said.
“I would spoil you rotten,” Mac said, shooting her a look through his hair that had fallen down over his gaze. “Whatever you wanted, whether you needed it or not, I would make it happen. I’d make damn sure you felt as beautiful as you looked, regardless of what you needed to feel that way. I’d take you out every chance I could, just to show you off to the people who can’t have you because you’re all mine. But I’d have my fucking hands on you all night, so that they’d know to stay away. It’d probably feel like my fingerprints were burned into your skin because I’d be holding you that tight.”
Melina’s tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip. “What else?”
“I’d always keep an eye on you, even if you didn’t know I was doing it, just to make sure you were good and safe. I’d wake you up in the morning, every single morning, with my hands all over you and my mouth kissing all the spots I could find. I’d make sure that whenever you were stressed out, or something was on your mind—bothering you—that you could take some time away from life and the world to be just you again. Simple stuff, you know.”
“Simple.” Melina scoffed. “Right. That sounds more like worshipping, Mac.”
Mac didn’t see the difference. “If a man cares enough, worshipping his woman should be the simplest, easiest, and most obvious thing for him to do every day, doll. She should be the most important thing on his mind. The first and last thing he considers every day and night.”
Melina’s gaze flitted from Mac’s face and then down to the bubbly water. “Oh.”
Oddly, it bothered Mac like nothing else that he could tell Melina had never been given the pleasure of having a man treasure her like she should be treasured. No one had every loved her enough to worship the very ground she walked on, or had seen her for the beautiful gift she truly was.
It nagged in his chest.
Poked at him like a needle.
Over and over.
Like a damned tattoo was being penned permanently to his skin, reminding him that Melina deserved someone who would treasure and treat her the way she should be cared for. Didn’t he have enough going on where this girl was concerned, without adding something like that to the pile as well?
Mac sighed, shaking off the strange feeling. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, anyway.”
Melina sucked in a quiet breath before asking, “Why not?”
“You’re not mine, doll. Or at least, you don’t want to be.”
Melina didn’t respond, but she wouldn’t meet Mac’s eyes again.
He continued washing her stress away.
Mac didn’t need a response.
Mac lifted the cup of coffee to his lips and took a sip of the hot liquid. The coffee settled on his tongue, heady and bitter, as he took in Melina’s apartment again. The place was in need of decorating, as it was just the basics for furniture and the walls were bare. With several wide, large windows overlooking a quiet part of the city, it had a great view. Mac bet the place looked spectacular in the morning, with sunlight flooding in through the glass and spiraling across the hardwood floors.
“Admiring my view, huh?”
Mac spun on his heel at Melina’s uncharacteristically soft voice. She stood in a simp
le cotton shorts and tank ensemble. Her bare toes wiggled against the hardwood floors as she watched him with a smile.
“It’s pretty nice,” Mac admitted. “You’re higher up than I realized.”
“Do the heights bother you?”
“Not a bit. Besides, a bit of fear keeps a man awake. What doesn’t kill you, and all that nonsense.”
Melina laughed. “You have a funny way of looking at things.”
“Yeah, I try. I was wondering about something else, though.”
“Shoot.”
“The cost of this place,” Mac said, carefully choosing his words. Melina was not the kind of woman who would like a man pointing out that she had clearly picked an apartment that was far above her price range. Independence and all that garbage. “Can you afford it?”
Melina’s lips drew thin. Instantly, Mac wondered if he had stepped over a line.
“I could have afforded it, before, when I first got it,” Melina admitted.
Mac frowned. “And now you can’t because you have to give up the escorting.”
“Probably. Twelve-month lease says I’m still on the hook.”
“Damn,” Mac said, feeling a weight press down on his shoulders.
Responsibility was a bitch.
One Mac didn’t know how to shake. In a roundabout way, his involvement in Melina’s life forced her into a bad situation. She had to give up her job, she was left with a place she couldn’t afford for long, and now she had a mark on her head that could put her into an early grave if Mac couldn’t get the attention from Luca Pivetti to wane.
It was shitty all the way around the board.
Melina, seemingly seeing the guilt raging on Mac’s features, said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out. I am nothing, if not a survivor. I don’t know how to fail.”
“Easier said than done, doll,” Mac settled on saying.
“I was thinking about something.”
The strange softness in Melina’s tone had Mac turning to look at her again. “What’s that?”
“What you said earlier to me.”
“In the bath.”
“Yeah,” Melina murmured.
Mac ignored the heat traveling through his body at warp speed. His little plan to let Melina relax and be cared for instead of worrying about the stress and craziness surrounding them had left him with a semi-erection that just wouldn’t go down, no matter how hard he tried. Touching this woman, cleaning her, listening to her little sighs and her sweet voice while they were close in a bath of hot, soapy water had been perfect. It had also taken all the control Mac had inside of him not to reach out, pull Melina into his lap, and fuck her raw.
Once they were out of the bath, dressed again, and some time had passed, Mac was still semi-hard. But he was able to disregard it with some distance between them.
“What about it?” Mac asked.
“I thought about what you said,” Melina replied quietly. “You know, about what you would do for someone who was your girl.”
Mac lifted a single brow high. “I said you, doll. If you were my girl.”
“Okay, me.”
“Glad we got that cleared up.”
Melina smiled slyly, and shook her head. “Anyway, my point is that I realized something.”
“Like what?”
“Like everything you said you would do, you have done. For me, I mean.”
Mac held back his smirk, but barely. He wondered how long it would take Melina to put two and two together about his earlier statements. “Oh?”
“Yes. You’re not as slick as you think you are, Mac.”
“Actually, I’m even more so, but we’ll leave that alone for another time.”
Melina pursed her pretty pink lips like she was considering arguing with Mac. Thankfully, she didn’t. “Nonetheless, I wanted to thank you for doing all of that for me. You don’t have—”
“I do,” Mac interrupted smoothly. “Because I want to. And as I told you earlier tonight, I want to know more about you, doll. If I didn’t give a damn, I would leave you to fend for yourself. I have a feeling there is a lot more to you than just what I’ve seen so far. I’m still interested in learning the rest. Don’t mistake my interest for simply kindness. I’m not kind to just anyone, doll. I don’t care about just anyone.”
Melina swallowed hard. “But you do care about me.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Mac laughed under his breath. “Again with this ‘okay’ nonsense. What happened to the Melina with her sharp responses and her quick wit?”
Melina lifted a single shoulder like it didn’t matter. “She’s still there. She’s just … processing this awful day.”
“It’ll pass,” Mac promised.
“Good. But right now, I want to sleep. I’m tired. It’s late.”
“Go ahead. I’ll take the couch.”
Melina fiddled with her fingernails. “I was going to ask if you wanted to share the bed.”
Mac’s throat tightened as his cock thickened. “To sleep, or …?”
“Smooth, really.”
“Hey, I’m not in the business of hiding my intentions, doll. If you want me to jump in bed with you and fuck you until you fall asleep, let me know. I’m up for that.”
Melina grinned wickedly. “Rain check, Mac. Tonight I just want to sleep beside someone. A familiar, safe someone.”
Mac let her words settle in.
He was familiar to her.
And safe.
Mac put his darker desires away in a locked box. “I can do that for you, doll. Whatever you need. All you have to do is ask.”
Melina nodded, but her smile fell slightly. “Thanks.”
“I buried my father the same day I met you,” Melina said.
The words had been whispered into the dark. Mac was sure that Melina probably believed he was asleep already, or that he couldn’t hear her. He decided to stay quiet and let her talk.
“Next to the priest who said a few words before leaving quickly, and the man who shoveled the dirt back into the hole, I was the only person there,” she continued.
Mac swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. “What about your mother?”
“She died when I was eight. Ovarian cancer.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Melina sighed softly, and turned in the sheets. Mac felt her hand skim closer to his side, but she didn’t touch him. He stayed still with one arm under his head, and the other resting over his bare midsection.
“I have a few memories of her. All good ones. Even at the end when she was sick and knew she was dying. She never showed it. That’s probably where some of my stubbornness comes from.”
Mac managed a smile in the darkness. “At least you know where your roots come from, doll, and what makes you … you, so to speak. What about your father?”
“Dying to know, are you?”
“Only what you want to tell me.” Mac rolled to his side and used his arm as a prop to hold himself up. He found Melina watching him with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. The way her dark eyes burned into him felt like fire spreading over his nervous system. It didn’t really burn, but it felt damn good. “And guessing by the fact you brought him up while we’re getting ready to sleep, I think you want to talk about him, too.”
Melina’s gaze dropped quickly. “Maybe I do. I haven’t got anyone to talk to him about. No family. No friends.”
“Loneliness looks terrible on a beautiful woman.”
“Does it?”
“Come a little closer and you won’t feel so alone.”
The corner of Melina’s lips lifted into a smile. “We’re supposed to be talking.”
Mac didn’t give her another chance to refuse him. Reaching out, he snagged her wrists in his palms and dragged her to his side of the bed. Melina instantly softened in his arms when he wrapped them around her. Her head tucked under his chin, and her hands balled into fists against his chest.
Comfor
t.
Sweet-smelling skin.
Soft hair.
Silky lips pressed feather light to his pec.
Mac drew in a quick breath. “That’s better.”
“It is,” Melina whispered.
“Talk to me.”
“Daniel, my father, was a former Marine. Lance Corporal.”
Mac stiffened. “A military brat.”
Melina laughed. “Is that all you got from that?”
“It explains a lot, Melina. About you, for one. But for Luca and his opinions, too.”
“Maybe I should have told you, but I didn’t think it was important that my father had been in the military. It wasn’t like it fucking mattered to anyone else, that’s for sure.”
The unhidden anger in Melina’s tone managed to take Mac by surprise. “You don’t sound like you’re very proud of him and his service.”
“Him?” Melina released a shaky breath. “Him, I adored. Him, I couldn’t be more proud of.”
“Then what is it?”
“The military. He was dishonorably discharged for disobeying orders to leave a small contingent of his men behind enemy lines in Afghanistan. He ended up losing his left arm up to the elbow in the attack. When he came back … when he came back, he—” Melina stopped abruptly, and her fists balled even tighter.
Mac ghosted his hand from the small of her back to the nape of her neck in gentle swipes until he could feel the tension start to release. “It’s all right, doll. You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to.”
“I do, though. My father suffered from PTSD. The night terrors were the worst. Sometimes he drank, which only exasperated his issues. He had severe anxiety and we just didn’t have the money to get him the help he needed. I started escorting to pay for his medical bills. I wanted him to get better, because no one else gave a damn. The military forgot about him. The government overlooked him and his service. The men he saved were allowed to return to their posts, while he had been shamed and stripped of his position for what he’d done. My father was a good man—an honorable man who took care of his family and his men.”
“And his country,” Mac murmured.
“Well, his country turned on him. They didn’t give a shit about what happened to him. He was the little guy—the forgettable one. He was left to handle what he’d seen and the things he’d been forced to do on his own, without so much as a fucking thank you or a proper funeral when he died.”