Perfectly Toxic

by Kristine Mason

  He shrugged. “You’re cheating.”

  “How?”

  “Because it’s true. You want everything to be just so, and that’s not how life is. What’s funny, I don’t think you want perfect, anyway.”

  “I don’t even know what to do with that ridiculous statement.”

  “Tell me to shove it up my ass, for all I care. It’s true.” He took a step forward. “Do you know why I got back into the repo business after the accident? Don’t answer, because you’ll be half wrong. I went back because I couldn’t handle what you couldn’t—us, pretending to be cool with doing normal couple things.”

  “What in the world are you talking about? You were still on your meds and—”

  “I hated taking drugs. You know that. But what you hated was that everything was becoming too perfect.”

  “Now that’s crap.”

  “Is it? Think back. You were bored. I couldn’t take us out on the Harley—which I’m still pissed you took. You missed going to the bar and meeting up with our friends. You missed that edge. The badass boyfriend who used to fuck you against the wall after a stupid argument.” He crowded her space. “Admit it.” He sifted his hand through her hair, then tugged, forcing her neck to arch slightly. “Admit you liked it when I was rough, and how you hated playing Melanie Homemaker. Working eight to five, cooking dinner, gardening, sitting on the couch watching TV.”

  God, she’d hated it. She had missed the old Cash, but dang if he wasn’t back and in rare form tonight. Except, she wasn’t the same woman she was two years ago. She had a regular job like she’d had then, came home and did regular things. When she was bored, she worked on whatever car she had in her garage, or tried new recipes—which Daddy loved, since he was her guinea pig. She didn’t need the hard partying, a cocktail or two was just fine. She had her favorite shows she liked to DVR. Crap, she had ATL. Her mind worked quickly, honing in on the night she’d disposed of a dead bodies in her daddy’s swamp. Oh, God. If Cash knew the truth…

  “Remember the rules,” he reminded her. “Honest answers.”

  “I missed the old Cash,” she admitted.

  He brushed his lips along hers, then released her hair and took a step back. “As pretty as you look in it, lose the shirt.”

  Holding his gaze, she gripped the hem of her lilac shirt that accentuated her cleavage and waist, then pulled it over her head. “Your turn.”

  “Did you leave me because you thought I was half the man I was before the accident?”

  “God, no. I left because I loved you so much it ate at me. I know that sounds stupid, but I don’t know how else to describe it. Seeing you…” Images of him bandaged, swollen and bruised slammed into her. “I don’t ever want to see that again. It’s bad enough I can’t erase it from my memory. But knowing the risks, you went back for more. The moment you had the chance, you took another repo job. Even after the last one nearly cost you your life. Lose the jeans and tell me why.”

  “Because I missed the rush,” he said, unzipping his jeans. “Because I thought you’d get bored with me—which you did.”

  “Check yourself. I admitted to missing some parts of our pre-accident life, but you never gave us the chance to adjust to being a married couple once you’d recovered. Without any thought of me, let alone my opinion, you just dove right back into the repo business.”

  He tossed his jeans on the floor. “Get rid of your pants and tell me this…do you blame me for the miscarriage?”

  She let the denim capris pool around her ankles. “Not once. It just wasn’t our time,” she said, the anguish, the heartache in his voice, made her chest hurt. She’d never forget the agony in Cash’s eyes when her doctor had informed them they’d lost the baby. Cash had been just as excited as she’d been over the pregnancy. After growing up without a father, he couldn’t wait to show his child all the love he’d missed. Needing to hold him, she kicked off her sandals and capris, then reached for him.

  “Game’s not over.” His gaze cautious, vulnerable he took a backward step. “Do you miss me?”

  “You changed up the rules and skipped my turn,” she said, her throat tightening. She didn’t just miss him, she ached to be back home and in his arms, where she belonged.

  “I don’t care.” He glanced to her pale pink bra and panties. “You have on extra clothes, so answer.”

  Straightening her spine, she reached behind and unhooked her bra. “Every day.” She dropped the bra next to her capris and held his gaze. “My turn. Why didn’t you try to stop me from leaving?”

  “I did.”

  Half-heartedly. Sure, they’d argued, and he’d given her a few lines as to why she should stay, but that had been it. She knew Cash. Knew that if he wanted something, he made it happen. He was a fighter, didn’t quit and never liked to lose. “Liar. If you don’t have the guts to be honest, then don’t bother taking off the boxers. I’m getting dressed and leaving.”

  “You want to know the truth?” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want you to reject me.”

  “Reject you?” she echoed, utterly confused. “I left you. Most people would consider that a rejection.”

  “So?”

  “So that makes no sense.”

  “To me it does.” He took a step forward. “You missed the old Cash, right?”

  “Not enough to give up on our marriage.”

  “Maybe not then, but what about later?” The vulnerability was back in his dark eyes. She hated it. Hated that for whatever reason he had in his mind, she was the cause of it. “You didn’t reject me when you left. You didn’t leave because you didn’t love me, or because you were bored with me. You were pissed off that I went back into the repo business, and that was your way of trying to get me to stop.” He cupped her cheeks. “We remained married, stayed connected, and even though we still fought, I got to see you, touch you, tell you I loved you. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked.”

  She rested her palms over his hands. “How can you say that?”

  “Because it meant I still had you. You’d left because of my job, not because of me.” He slid his hands from her face, then twined his fingers through hers. “What if I had quit, and you couldn’t adjust to married life? What if you missed the edge, the fights, the parties? What if you decided I was too much of a regular guy? Leaving me for those reasons would have been harder for me to accept, than leaving me over a job.”

  While she seethed inside, she searched his eyes, took in the regret, the worry, and kept her temper controlled. She loved the man, and that he was finally being honest. Even if the truth hurt. “You rejected me before I rejected you,” she said.

  “That’s not what I did.”

  “You’re right. You’ve been stringing me along because you were worried about getting your feelings hurt. Lemme ask you, did you ever consider my feelings?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I love you.”

  “You love knowing I’m still around, even if it’s seven hours away.”

  He gripped her arms and drew them chest to breast. “I gave you everything I have, including my last name, which I doubt you’ve bothered to use.”

  “You married me when you were lying in a hospital bed and thought you might not make it.” She struggled to break free, but he kept her pinned to him. “Maybe I should be the one worried about you rejecting me. Maybe I left here thinking you wished to God that you hadn’t impulsively married me.”

  “We were engaged before the accident. Marrying you was what I wanted. The only regret I have about our wedding day was that it was in a hospital, not on a beach like we’d planned.” He set her back, then shoved his dark boxer briefs over his lean hips. “My turn. If I quit the repo business, do you still love me enough to give us a shot?”

  “You should quit for you, not me.”

  “Not an answer,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “And not what you’ve been preaching for the past two years.”

  No, it wasn’t. But after this game of honesty, she w
asn’t sure if she could commit to anything without giving it thought. Cash had been so worried about being rejected, he’d allowed them to live separately—yet still be a couple. He’d brought up his worry that she could become bored with him, and he was right to be concerned. Yes, she’d changed. Yes, they’d lived together for years before the accident, but they’d only lived as a married couple for a short time. During their first year of marriage, she was either busy putting in extra hours at the garage or taking care of Cash as he finished his therapy. Then there was moving back to Tallahassee. Being back in the Glades had been healing for her. She loved living close to Daddy, working at the airboat company, being part of a big family. Was she ready to give that up, along with ATL?

  “Don’t bother taking off the panties. Your answer is clear. I’ll take the guest room.”

  She blinked away the tears blurring her vision and stared at her husband. Watched as he turned his back, exposing the scars from hours of surgery. The scars represented so much physical and emotional pain. As he knelt to grab his clothes, she wiped at a tear. “What if you end up resenting me?” She shoved off her panties. “What if you decide I’m boring and want someone else?” she asked, and threw them at him.

  Her underwear landed at his feet. He glanced at them, then turned and tossed his clothes back to the floor. Instead of staring at her nude body like she’d expected, he locked his possessive gaze onto hers. “I’ll never want anyone but you.” He moved toward her. “Do you ever think about being with another man?” he asked, the heat in his eyes causing her nipples to harden.

  “Not since the day you caught me stealing the car you were repossessing.”

  He ate up what little distance was between them. His erection brushed her belly. Her nipples grazed his chest, yet he kept his hands at his sides. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “I’m done taking risks, and don’t want to risk our marriage over a job.”

  He was saying everything she’d been dying to hear. With his warmth radiating against her skin, the barely-there touches, the need to be with him, to be his wife, she refused to worry about what she’d be leaving behind in the Glades. Cash was a man of his word. If he was willing to give up a job he loved for her, she would do the same for him. If they still didn’t work out, then at least they’d given their marriage a fair shot.

  She twined her fingers through his. “Yes,” she said, then gasped, when he moved their joined hands behind her back.

  “Yes, what?” His eyes were filled with need, hunger and the hint of uncertainty. He pressed her body against his until they were completely flush. “I need to know.”

  Despite the sexual tension, the desire rushing through her body, images of the faces of the people she’d leave behind quickly ran through her mind. But she’d had a life here, too. And she was only seven hours away from home.

  Home. It was time to come home to her husband.

  She rose to her tiptoes, then brushed her lips along his. “Prepare yourself, honey. Mel’s comin’ home.”

  “About damn time,” he said, then captured her lips in a searing kiss that left her breathless and wanting more.

  She writhed against his body, struggled to move impossibly closer. To break free from his hold so she could touch him, run her hands along the hard contours of his body.

  “Let me touch you,” she demanded.

  He tore his mouth away to kiss her neck. “I need you in our bed,” he said, releasing her hands, then lifting her in his arms.

  She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him. Tangled her tongue with his in a sultry open-mouthed kiss. She loved this domineering, he-man side of Cash. Loved knowing she was his. Loved the way he branded her, took control. Loved that he loved her, no matter that others thought she was nothing but a crazy, white trash girl from the swamp.

  When he reached their bedroom, he eased her onto their bed. He pinned her arms over her head, then broke the kiss. “I hate it when you’re not here with me.” He kissed her again, then dragged his lips along her neck. Releasing her arms, he cupped her breasts. “So sexy,” he said, thumbing one nipple, while taking the other into his mouth.

  Desire shot straight to her core. She ran her hands along his neck and shoulders. Wrapped her legs around his and lifted her pelvis. It had been too long and she wanted, needed him inside her.

  He met her gaze as he shifted to her other breast. She let out a harsh breath when he slowly traced a circle around her areola.

  Frustration tore through her. She gripped his head. “Please.”

  He flicked his tongue along her nipple. “Please, what?”

  He was going to play sex games now? Breathing hard, anticipating the pleasure he could give her, she’d play whatever game he had in mind. “Suck it,” she said, then drew in a sharp breath when he did. As he rubbed his calloused hand over her hip, then brushed it along her labia, she held his gaze. How many nights had she gone to bed wishing she could look at him this exact way? Every night. She’d missed the intimacy. The skin to skin contact. The pleasure.

  She leaned forward slightly, touched his jaw and brought his mouth back to hers. Kissed him with urgency, with unabashed need, until they were both breathless.

  “I’ve missed the way you taste,” he said, cupping her breast. “Six weeks is too long.”

  Six weeks and three days to be exact. That had been the last time she’d seen him, touched him. “No more waiting.”

  A small, smug, sexy smile tilted his lips. He pressed her against the pillows and leaned back. After moving her legs apart, he ran his hands along her inner thighs and stared at her sex. “I’m going to make you come,” he said, pressing his finger between her folds, then slowly pulling out and rubbing her clit. “When I’m done, I’m going to do it all over again.”

  She grew slick from his touch, his words. Her nipples had grown so hard, they ached. She shifted her gaze from where he leisurely glided his fingers, to his thick length. If she could angle her body over a foot, she could take him in her mouth. Licking her lips, imagining the taste of him on her tongue, she moved. Cash pressed her back down, brushed his hand along her breast, before moving between her thighs.

  “Cash, let me.”

  “Nope.” He raised her calf to his shoulder. He kissed her behind the knee, then slowly leaned forward, placing more open-mouthed kisses along her skin. When he grew closer to her sex, he gripped her bottom with both hands and looked up at her. “I told you, I’m going to make you come.”

  The man was too damned sexy and sure of himself. But she knew how well he could use his lips and tongue, and counted on him being right. “All I’m hearing is a lot of talk and no action.”

  The smug grin returned. “Then I guess I better shut up and fuck you.” He swiped his tongue between her folds. When he flicked it along her clit, she pressed her heels into his upper back and arched her pelvis closer to his mouth. Humming his approval, he tightened his grip on her rear and kissed her sex as he’d kissed her mouth. Possessive, greedy, his lips and tongue driving her crazy with desire.

  She shoved her hands through his hair and held his head still. “Right there, baby,” she encouraged him. His dark eyes glittered with determination and lust. Each flick of his tongue along her clit brought her closer and closer to the orgasm he’d promised. Goose bumps cascaded along her skin. Her inner thighs tightened. Pure pleasure suddenly blurred her mind and shot through her body. Groaning his name and still holding his head, she arched her back.

  Before she could catch her breath, Cash knelt, moved her pelvis toward his until the head of his erection was pressed against her. “Ready to come again?”

  She moved to one elbow and reached for him. “Always,” she said, running her hand along his hard abs.

  With a swift thrust, he entered her. She dropped to her back, and groaned as he rubbed his thumb along her clit. Dug her heels into the mattress to match each push of his hips. Oh, God, it was too much, yet not enough.

  As if he somehow knew, Cash raised her legs an
d placed them on his shoulders again. Resting his hands on her thighs, he thrust. When his breathing grew labored, he fell forward, used his arms to brace his body and drove deep. With Cash’s big body sheltering her, his hard length inside her, pleasure, comfort and a strong sense of security filled every crack in her heart their arguing had caused. She loved Cash. Not for his body, not for the material things he could give her, but for his heart. No matter what the future held for them, he was her man. No matter if they ever parted ways again, no one knew her, understood her and accepted her, like Cash. And no one could replace him. Ever.

  He lifted his chest. “Take your legs off my shoulders. I want to feel your breasts against me.” When she did, he let out a satisfied sigh. “God, did I miss this,” he said, placed his hand under her head, then kissed her, the thrust of his tongue mimicking the thrust of his hips.

  Surrounded by him, by the love she knew couldn’t, wouldn’t ever fade no matter how many miles were between them, she hugged him close. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. “Come with me,” he said, grinding his pelvis against hers.

  The friction of his coarse hair against her clit sent waves of pleasure through her body. Her breath quickened. Her heart raced. More goose bumps coated her skin as she ran her hand down his back to grip his tight rear.

  He moved faster, harder. “Come on, baby.”

  She panted, met each thrust until she shattered. Her sex gripped him, convulsed around his length, held him deep inside as he let out a harsh breath and tensed. Moving her hands from his taut butt to his scarred back, she hugged him again. Tilted her chin and sought his mouth.

  His warm breath puffed against her lips before he captured them in a slow, sensual, soul-tugging kiss. When he rolled to the side, taking her with him, she rested her head against his shoulder and ran her palm along his chest.

  He kissed the top of her head. “I told you I’d make you come.”

  She tweaked his nipple. “Bet you can’t do it again.”

  Chuckling, he squeezed her close. “Give me thirty minutes and you’ll lose that bet.”