by Stasia Black
He leaned over with his hands on his knees. Calm down. He needed to calm the fuck down. So he thought he’d have a few more years to prepare. So what? Nothing had changed, not really. He’d gone over his plan a million times in his head. He’d just have to act sooner rather than later.
And in the end, Danny ‘Bone’ Jones would still be dead.
In the meantime, Mack needed to smash the fuck out of something. He leaned over and yanked his boxing gloves out from underneath the bed. Then he jogged down the stairs and toward the back barn where Xavier had let him set up a bag.
He wailed on the bag for half an hour or more. Instead of releasing his tension like it usually did, though, each hit only seemed to make his blood burn hotter. In two or three weeks that murderous, raping bastard would be back on the streets. Mack slammed the bag again, immediately pulling back for another punch.
“I saw you training Torpedo earlier.”
Mack startled at the soft voice. He jerked around and saw Calla standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall of the barn.
“You’ve got a gentle touch. You were good with him.”
Sweat poured off Mack’s brow and down his chest. He leaned over and grabbed his shirt from where he tossed it earlier to mop himself off. He didn’t look Calla’s direction again.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
“Got nothing to say.” He tossed the shirt back down and reared back for another swing at the bag.
“Well I do.” She sounded impatient. “I didn’t like how you just left like that the other night.”
Mack didn’t respond, just let loose a series of jabs.
“Liam says you’re a coward and we should forget about you.”
Mack’s hand fisted tighter in his gloves. Of course that’s how that fucker would spin it. Mack stretched his neck to try to ease some of his tension. Still he didn’t look at her. “Guess he’s right,” he said.
“Bullshit.” Her voice was like a whip and he felt her take another step toward him. “I was there that night. At the dance. I saw you laughing. Having a good time. Then it’s like some switch flipped. And I haven’t seen the guy I first met that night in the kitchen since.”
Finally he turned to her. She was back in her overalls with a skimpy little tank underneath. She’d tried to tie her hair back but it was escaping all around her face. Her cheeks were pink, probably from the heat. Mack’s cock twitched remembering how her cheeks had looked the same when he was burying himself inside her. And the look on her face—that mixture of shock and pleasure, everyone of her reactions playing out on that expressive face of hers.
Mack clenched his jaw and he swung for the bag again. “So now you want to stand around and talk about feelings? We had fun the other night. Then I moved on. End of story.”
“Is it?” She took a step toward him and put her hand on his forearm to stop his next jab. “Because that guy I first met? The man I danced with? I really liked him. He was someone special.”
Mack felt her words in his gut. Special? She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. The only special he had in him was being especially good at kicking the shit out of people. He glared at her. “I was trying to get laid. That’s all.”
Calla shook her head as he talked and he could see the stubborn written all over her face. It was a familiar expression. Ben used to look like that when he wanted something. “It was more than that,” she said. “I don’t know much but I know that.”
Mack turned back to the bag. Fact was, he couldn’t look at Calla now without seeing Ben.
Just one more reason to shut this shit down. “Oh yeah?” he sneered. “And why do you think you know anything? You were a goddamned virgin. Fuck, most teenagers have more experience than you. Besides, three months from now, I’m outta here. Right after the competition.” It was the conclusion he’d come to about fifteen minutes into wailing on the bag. He respected Xavier enough to finish what he’d committed to with training the mustang. But after that, he was out. The grim reaper was coming for Bone, and Mack would be the one to introduce them. “I don’t need any complications between now and then.”
Calla put her hands on her hips. “I don’t have to be a complication. I’d like to be your friend.”
“Already got enough friends.” He swung at the bag again. The impact went up his arm and into his chest. He punched again, even harder. He hadn’t wrapped his hands with tape before putting his gloves on, and if he kept it up this way he’d find his knuckles bloody when he pulled them off.
Calla scoffed. “You don’t have any friends.”
“Exactly.” Punch. “And that’s how I like it.” Jab, jab, punch.
“Everyone needs friends. I’m just starting to realize that. I lived most of my life lonely and thought it would never change. I was wrong.” Her voice went soft. “You’re wrong too.”
“Look, little girl,” Mack spun on her and pointed a glove her direction. “You were an okay fuck, but shit, I never would have touched you if I knew you were gonna get all clingy and shit.”
Calla’s nostrils flared and her hands clenched. “Maybe Liam’s right. Maybe you’re nothing but a bully.”
He wished she’d stop bringing that fucker up. He hadn’t missed the way Liam was always finding some way to touch her whenever the two were in the same room. Like a dog staking his fucking claim.
After several more long moments of him not responding, Calla threw her hands up in the air. “I give up.”
She spun and walked away. Mack forced himself not to watch her go. If she looked back, he didn’t want her to see him looking after her like a lost fucking puppy.
No, better for everyone involved if he took out his frustrations on this goddamned punching bag rather than pulling a sweet girl like that into his fucked up sphere.
He’d been a selfish fuck to ever look for distraction in her soft arms in the first place. But that was over.
Bone was out of prison. His purpose was clear now. He’d train up to peak condition again. Make himself a machine. To do the only thing a savage like him was good for.
“She didn’t want to listen when I told her you were a lost cause.”
Mack gritted his teeth at hearing Liam’s voice behind him. What, suddenly the back barn was Penn fucking Station? Why couldn’t they just leave him the fuck alone?
“People want to deny it but breeding matters. Just take the mustangs. Maybe we get them trained to follow a few commands so we can sell them as a work horse at the auction. If we’re lucky. But they’ll never be anything more than what they were born as.” His lips twisted in disgust. “And nothing compared to a purebred.”
Mack sneered, turning to look at Liam. “I take it you’re the purebred in this little metaphor?”
Liam shrugged, a superior smile on his face. “Just calling it like I see it.”
“Yeah, well no one fucking asked you.” The mood Mack was in, Liam better shut his goddamned mouth and run away with his tail between his legs if he knew what was good for him. “You should be happy. You’re getting the girl. That should satisfy your ego.” Mack couldn’t help adding. “Even if it’s just ‘cause I’m letting you have her.”
The vein on Liam’s neck stood out as he took a step toward Mack. “She feels sorry for you. I’m sure I can convince her to give up on her little charity project without too much trouble. Your mongrel arse doesn’t deserve her and you know it. Not that it stopped you from getting your dick wet though, did it?”
Fucker pushed it too far. Mack had been itching for a rematch ever since Liam had gotten in those hits that night in the kitchen. ‘Sides, if he was gonna take on Bone, he could use all the practice he could get.
Mack shook his head and feigned like he was gonna walk away. Then he spun on his heel and swung at Liam.
Liam’s eyes went wide with surprise and he ducked out of the way of Mack’s glove at the very last second.
“Oh, ya want to batter me? Fine.” Liam raised his fists. “I’m happy to settle
once and for all who’s the better man. I was light-weight champion for three years running at Exeter. Woulda been four,” he smirked, “but I got thrown out for fighting.”
This time it was Mack’s turn to smirk. “Think you know how to fight because you could beat up some other pansy assed rich kids?” He shook his head and pulled off his boxing gloves, cracking his fingers as he went. “This is gonna be fun.”
He faked a jab and then reared back, letting loose a punch that would have smashed Liam’s face in. If the little fucker hadn’t danced away at the last second, that was.
“Boxing is all about footwork,” Liam said, doing more of that stupid bouncing around bullshit.
Mack was almost too busy laughing at him to dodge when Liam let out a left-cross. He barely managed to knock Liam’s hand away mid-air.
But Liam was ready and came back with his right, landing one right on Mack’s jaw. Motherfucking piss ant son of a—
Mack roared and ran full speed into Liam. He caught him off guard and took him to the dirt floor. Liam grunted in pain as Mack landed on top of him but Mack didn’t waste a second pinning him and then trying to get his arm around the fucker’s neck to choke him out. Right before he could, though, Liam grabbed Mack’s shoulder, jerked his arm across, and then rolled out from underneath him. Slippery little fuck—
Next second he was jumping on Mack’s back and slamming him into the ground. Then he did some fucking ninja move, grabbing Mack’s arm, putting a hand around the back of his neck, and then ramming into him from the side until he flipped Mack on his back.
Mack struggled but the bastard still had one hand around Mack’s neck and his knee on Mack’s other arm.
Liam grinned in Mack’s face as Mack wriggled and fought to get free. “Did I mention I also dabbled in wrestling?”
Superior piece of shit. Mack might not know any fancy fucking wrestling techniques, but he knew the basics of getting out of a tight spot. He reached behind his head and grabbed Liam’s hand, jerked it down with pure force, then jammed his elbow into Liam’s body. He used the momentum to flip Liam so he was on his back.
Liam hit hard and his chest moved up and down as he breathed heavily underneath Mack’s body. His teeth clenched. “So you know how to get out of a half nelson. Good for you.”
“I know how to get a mouthy little shit on his back, if that’s what you mean.” Mack ground Liam into the floor, chest to chest.
The more Liam jerked and tried to get out of his hold, the wider Mack’s smile got. “Guess brute strength wins out over breeding.”
Liam’s face went red and he tried to knee Mack in the kidneys from behind. Mack just shifted so he pinned Liam’s entire body and not just his upper half. Which meant his pelvis came into contact with Liam’s.
He almost jerked back at what he felt.
Liam had a huge fucking hard-on.
Liam’s eyes flashed and he yanked to try to get away from Mack. All that accomplished was rubbing his cock more against Mack’s. Liam was wearing jeans but Mack only had on athletic shorts and he felt every inch.
When his own cock stiffened in response, again Mack almost pulled back and let Liam go. But then he saw the way Liam’s face had gone cherry with embarrassment.
“So I’m white trash not worth the shit on your shoes,” Mack sneered, “but you still want to fuck me.”
Liam’s nostrils flared as he glared back at Mack, jerking again to try to dislodge him. With the same results—he wasn’t going anywhere.
Mack lifted up slightly but only to get enough momentum to slam his body back down on Liam’s. The move had their cocks grinding together even more.
“Sure, I’d fuck you,” Liam shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “Or have you chauffeur me around. Or wipe down the table after I eat.” Liam’s eyes went flinty even as one side of his mouth lifted. “There’s all kind of uses for the help.”
Mack laughed. “You got one thing wrong there, little boy.” Keeping Liam’s arms pinned at his sides, he rolled him until Liam’s chest was smashed into the ground. “I don’t get fucked,” he hissed in Liam’s ear from behind. “I do the fucking.”
Then, moving to hold both of Liam’s wrists behind his back with one hand, Mack reached underneath Liam, jerked the button of Liam’s jeans free, and shoved them down to expose his toned ass.
For a second neither of them said anything. Until Liam bit out, “Condom. Back pocket.”
Holy shit. Mack was bluffing. He’d just meant to put Liam in his place. He didn’t expect him to…
Mack shoved his hand into the back pocket of Liam’s jeans. He yanked out the condom. Stared at it for a moment. Then he ripped the packaging open with his teeth.
He’d show this Irish motherfucker once and for all who was in fucking charge. They’d get it out of their system. Then Mack would be done with him.
Mack shoved his own shorts down and rolled the lubed condom down his cock.
“Grab your ass cheeks,” Mack bit out, finally letting go of Liam’s wrists. “Open for me.” Again there was a moment of hesitation. But it wasn’t even two seconds before Liam reached back and separated his ass cheeks. Exposing his little puckered hole.
Mack’s cock lunged almost of its own fucking accord. His hips did the rest.
The head of his cock pressed at Liam’s entrance.
Mack swore. This part always made him fucking crazy. Would he be able to get in there? How much struggle would his partner put up before submitting? Because he suddenly very much wanted Liam to submit. More than anything else he’d wanted in a long time, apart from Calla.
“Relax,” Mack ordered, putting his hand on the bottom of Liam’s spine. “Open up more.”
Liam pulled his cheeks even further apart and Mack thrust in at the same time. And fuck, yes. The crown of his cock breached the tight ring of muscles. Liam’s body spasmed underneath him.
“On your knees.”
Mack kept pressing forward with his cock as Liam pushed back against him, struggling up to his knees.
“That’s right,” Mack said, grabbing Liam’s ass hard. “Look who can’t wait to take it up the ass. How long you had a hard-on for me? How many nights you slept in the wet spot after coming to the thought of me? Come on,” he lunged deeper. “Tell me.
Liam turned and glared over his shoulder. “Fuck you.”
Mack laughed. Shit but this felt good. So goddamned good. “No, fuck you.” He shoved his cock all the way in to the hilt to emphasize his point. Liam’s mouth dropped open and his face contorted. Pleasure or pain, Mack couldn’t tell. He suspected both.
“Show me how fuckin’ hard you are for me.” Mack reached around Liam’s waist and grabbed for his cock. It was a good size. Fucking thick too.
“You stuck this cock in Calla? You two fuck after I left?”
Liam’s eyes opened again and he smirked. How he had the nerve to smirk at Mack while he had his cock up his ass, Mack didn’t know.
“I fucked her so good she couldn’t even remember your name by the time I was through.”
Mack jerked his hips back and then he rammed back in. Liam grunted as his body jolted forward. Mack grinned.
“You ride her as hard as I’m riding you?”
Liam’s eyes narrowed in challenge, his head still swung back to look at Mack over his shoulder. “You call this hard? I barely even feel your mickey. That a pencil back there?”
Oh he was fucking in for it now. Mack growled in determination as he pulled out and shoved back in. All the way. No fucking mercy. And Christ, the way Liam’s body clenched on him.
Then Liam shifted, shoving back against Mack’s thighs as Mack thrust forward. Mack grabbed one of his shoulders and then started pounding the fuck out of him.
And for the first time since Mack had read that fucking email earlier, his mind cleared. Christ, he’d forgotten how a good lay could do that. Make all the other bad shit go away.
Ben had known. And he’d known Mack needed it just as much as he had. But Mack
had always had to be careful with Ben. He couldn’t take him hard. Not after what Ben went through. No matter the dominance games they played, Ben was only comfortable with certain positions. Certain role play. Slow and easy, that’s how it had been between them. Every inch Mack gained he had to coax from Ben, even though it was Ben who’d pushed them being together in the first place.
But Liam apparently wasn’t in the market for slow. And pile driving his ass like a mad motherfucker seemed to turn the guy on even more. His hips bucked as he rode Mack’s cock, faster and faster until the slap of their flesh echoed around the barn.
That was when he heard a high-pitched yip of surprise. And it didn’t come from Liam. Both Liam’s and Mack’s head swung to the barn door and Mack froze.
Fuck.
It was Calla.
19
LIAM
Shite. Liam stared at Calla. This was bad. What the hell had he been thinking?
“Calla, I—” Liam started but then broke off. Because what could he really say while Mack’s cock was buried up his arse?
Her eyes were wide as saucers and she had a tall glass of lemonade in her hand. “I thought you might be thirsty, working up such a sweat,” she whispered, eyes flicking to Mack.
A heavy silence fell around them.
“After all the shit I said to you, you came back with fucking lemonade?” Mack’s voice was half-strangled.
Calla gulped and looked down.
“I’ll just go—” Calla started but Mack cut her off.
“You aren’t going anywhere. You’re gonna sit your ass down right here,” Mack pointed to a bench beside them, “and take off your overalls.”
Liam swung his head to glare at Mack over his shoulder. “Don’t you fecking talk to her like that.”
Mack’s nostrils flared. “So you’re the only one I can order around like my little bitch?”
Goddamned bastard. Liam didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know why he’d spread himself when Mack asked. Not thinking had been the whole damn problem. When Mack had him pinned, so easily taking him down…