Chapter Twelve

Mac

"Maren, wait!"

I take off after her, realizing how this must look. I think I can catch her, but I underestimate how fast she can run. Those long legs take off down the street like she's a goddamn deer, and I have to pound the pavement to finally reach her. I grab her arm and she yelps into the night, struggling to free herself from me. But my hold is tight. I swing her against the building and cage her in so she can't escape, my face inches from hers. I note the tears in her eyes, which surprises me. It also kills me. I know Maren isn't one for crying. I know she hates that I am seeing her this way, even though she has no idea what she just saw. I hate that, even though she's wrong, I'm to blame for those tears .

"Get off me," she growls, pushing at me. Maren is not weak, but her efforts are fruitless because I don't budge. I know that if I do, she'll take off again, and I'm tired of chasing her.

She eventually stills, probably realizing she doesn't have a chance against me. I take the moment to run my thumb over her cheek, catching the tear that's brimming her eyes. Maren turns her head, squeezing her eyes shut. But I notice the smallest shift in her breath, how she inhales, how her face softens and a small groan escapes her lips. I can't help it. I press my body into hers, feeling her soft curves fall into every hard inch of my body.

"I can explain," I murmur into her hair, brushing my nose against her ear.

She shakes her head, her eyes still squeezed shut. "You don't have to explain anything, we're free to see other people."

I cup her face with firm fingers, turning her head, waiting until she finally opens her eyes and looks at me.

"No, we aren't. I'll consider this casual, if that's what you want. But I am not and will not see anyone else as long as you're sharing my bed, and I expect the same from you." I study her, seeing how she will take this. When she tries to turn away again, I tighten my hold on her face. "Just the thought of some other man touching you is enough to drive me insane."

"So you can imagine what I'm feeling right now," she spits out. Her eyes shoot daggers at me, daring me to argue. "I'm not fucking stupid. You've obviously made your choice, so let me go so I can forget I ever knew you."

She starts to fight me again, but I press firmly against her and crush my mouth on hers, stealing her breath. She resists for only a moment, but soon she's clutching my shirt, kissing me back, and fuck me, I wish I could take her right here. She makes me ravenous, the way my mouth can't get enough of her. The way my hips grind against hers, and how she meets me with each thrust. I want to wrap her long legs around me, feel her cunt throb on my dick, and taste every goddamn inch of her.

Even as mad as she is, she demands my attention through just a kiss, her mouth searching mine for so many things we've left unsaid. I shouldn't feel this possessive. And yet, as her arms snake around my body, her face tilted to mine as I drink her in, it's hard to believe we don't already belong to each other.

Her phone vibrates against me from her purse, and this time I let her break away from me as we both pant to catch our breaths.

"It's Claire," she explains, not even looking at her phone. "She's waiting for me, and probably thinks I've been mauled."

"Tell her to leave without you," I order.

"But she's my ride. "

"You have a ride." I fish her still ringing phone from the purse, hit the button, and hand it to her.

"H-hello?"

Her dark eyes stay on me, even as she talks to her friend. A flash from last night infiltrates my mind. The way she looked lying naked on my bed, completely at my mercy, when she finally let go and opened herself to me. The sweet taste of her when I dipped my head between her legs, a nectar I can almost taste now. I inhale sharply, taking her lilac scent with me.

"Go ahead without me," she continues into the phone, her gaze remaining on me. I can see the hesitancy in her expression, but I also see the need. If she was going to leave me, she would have by now. "I ran into… uh, I ran into a friend and we have some catching up to do." She pauses as her friend speaks. "Claire, I'm okay, I promise."

"Let's go," I growl. My hand finds her hip and I pull her toward me, but this time she pushes me off her. She turns her back to me.

"Mustard," she whispers, and I tilt my head. What? But I'm now close enough to hear the other side of this phone conversation.

"I'm coming to get you," her friend says. I step closer to hear better.

"Claire, no. I'm not saying the code word because I'm not safe. I'm with a friend— "

"Put them on."

"No, I'm not—"

"Put them on or I'm calling the cops."

I snatch the phone from her hands, and Maren whips around, eyes flashing as I put the phone to my hear.

"She's with me."

There's a brief silence on the other end. Then, "Mac?"

I flex my jaw, if only to keep from grinning like a fucking idiot. Maren's obviously talked about me to her friend, which means she broke one of her own rules. I'm not as secret as she'd have me believe.

"Yeah."

"So listen, I know Maren is a big girl and can take care of her own," Claire says into the phone. "She could probably even kick your ass, though I hear you're a tank. But she's also my best friend. If you hurt her, I swear to god, I'll hunt you down and make you pay."

This time, my smirk breaks through. I hide it with a cough, shooting a side glance at Maren. Figures she's watching my every move.

I grunt my agreement, then hand it back to Maren. She glares at me, but I see a hint of curiosity in her eyes. I'm starting to wonder if she's actually angry, or if she's just using it as a front to keep me at arm's length. Then again, the fact that she even got that angry seeing me with someone else… again. Does she think she's already mine?

"Yes," she whispers into the phone, then it's her turn to hide a smile. I can hear Claire squealing through the phone, even though Maren has stepped a few feet away, her back to me. I move closer again, but this time it's not to listen in. I wrap my arms around her, then wait to see how she reacts.

"I'm not going to do that," Maren says to Claire. She turns remaining in my arms, her face inches from mine. I stand my ground, my eyes daring her to make a move. She doesn't, but she also doesn't step away. Instead, she matches my gaze, even with the phone attached to her ear.

"I'll leave my locations services on," she finally says, "but don't look for my body until tomorrow." Her hand has found my chest, and I am well aware of the pressure of her fingers, almost as if they're touching my skin. Her palm remains still, but her fingers trace a hypnotic circle. I keep my stance rigid, but inside, she's turning me to lava.

She finally hangs up, and I have completely forgotten why we are out here and not tangled in my sheets. We stare at each other, the electricity building between us until it feels like a goddamn inferno in my chest. I lick my lips, preparing to dip my head to her pretty mouth, when she slams her hands against my chest with such force that the current is broken.

"What the fuck, Maren."

"Who is she?" she demands.

And that's when it all comes back. The look of hurt on her face. The way she stormed out of that restaurant. How obvious it is that this woman cares about me more than she'll ever let on. I bite back a smirk, then resist the urge to flinch when she lands an icy glare on me. I'm not one to cower—I've been through too much shit to be afraid of anything—but damn if this girl doesn't have some serious sass. I'm half tempted to rile her up, just to see her in action. I don't, though.

"She's not who you think, I'll tell you that much."

"You know what I'm thinking, asshole?" She slams her hands against me again. I don't move, even though this tiny thing packs a punch. "I'm thinking I had the best fuck of my life with a guy who has me re-thinking everything I've ever thought about relationships, only to hear crickets."

"The best, huh?" I raise an eyebrow, challenging her to take it back. Her eyes remain like daggers, but there's another kind of heat brimming beneath that fiery gaze.

"You're missing the point. Why didn't you call?"

I see the slightest wince, as if she can't believe the words coming out of her mouth. I get the feeling that Maren isn't one who begs, or even gives second chances .

"You're the one who left me, Maren," I remind her. "I figured you didn't want me to bother you."

"Then I see you on a date," she says, completely ignoring anything I'm saying. "And not just any date, a date where you're presenting her with something in a little box, which leads me to believe this isn't just another one of your casual flings, but something more serious. Which would make me the other woman, and that's an incredibly shitty thing because I would never try to steal another woman's man."

"You're not."

"You're right, because I'm done, Mac. We had our fun, but I get to walk away while you get to explain to your girlfriend why you're here with me and not with her."

She starts to leave, but never gets that far. I push her back up against the wall, her hands pinned above her head. She could fight me, but she doesn't. Her breath comes out in hot, sweet pants, her heart racing against my chest.

"That woman is not my girlfriend," I growl. She starts to argue, but I press my mouth to hers, effectively shutting her up. "Are you going to listen?" I ask, still against her lips. She nods as much as she can with limited movement.

"She's not my girlfriend. She's Amanda Crawford, an estate jeweler," I continue. "She traveled from out of the area and met me at Breakers so she could see if the sapphire Cartier brooch I have is something her boss wants in his collection."

"You were…selling it to her?"

She relaxes a little, even though I can see she's still wary. I wait for her to ask questions I'm not prepared to answer. I can see she's curious, but also that she's holding back. There's this wall she wants to keep up, one I'm ready plow through and take what I want. But it's also keeping her from prying. If she doesn't pry, then I won't either, and the wall remains in place.

This time, the wall is my advantage.

"I need to get back in there," I say, and she immediately stiffens. "Hey." I lean down, looking her in the eyes, my hands holding her shoulders. "Come with me. I have to wrap up this sale," I pause, then look her up and down, hardening at the way her breath hitches. "Then I have some unfinished business to attend to."

She takes in a deep inhale, and I know she's thinking about our night together. I am too. The way her back arched while my mouth tasted every inch of her. The soft moan in the back of her throat as she pulled me closer. How her hips met me thrust for thrust.

Maren is calculated to a T. I saw it from the moment I first saw her, and now that she's in my orbit, I know it for sure. I could have let her have her way last night, but I also knew she was treating me like any other fuck. Another wall. Her way of keeping me at arm's length. But she'll soon find out, I'm not any other fuck.

I told her this was casual. What a fucking lie.

We walk back to Breakers, but she draws the line at joining me and Ms. Crawford while we finish the transaction. I can feel Maren's eyes on me as I take my seat.

"Everything okay?" Amanda asks, sneaking a glance in Maren's direction.

"Yes," I say, not bothering to explain myself. To her credit, Amanda waited a good thirty minutes in this restaurant while I convinced Maren I wasn't fucking someone else. But then again, this brooch is worth waiting for. I pull it out of my jacket pocket and open the box, allowing her a closer look. Amanda leaves the box on the table and uses a magnifying glass to get a closer look. While she studies the piece, I peek in Maren's direction, who quickly averts her eyes. She takes a sudden interest in her phone, and I know she's dying to keep watching us. It must kill her to play it so uncool when I know she's used to being in control. She finally does look, and the embarrassed grin she flashes at me is enough to make me want to rush this sale so I can show Maren exactly what she does to me.

Amanda is now on the phone, and I tear my eyes away from Maren as she talks with her boss. When she hangs up, she's smiling.

"We'll take it," she says, pulling an envelope from her purse. I open it, my face a damn glacier as I take in the amount on the check that once felt like Monopoly money. Even now, it's not a small number. $1.2 million for a piece of metal and some precious jewels. It just might be enough to undo some of the old man's sins.

Amanda and I both rise. She shakes my hand, sealing the deal, then leans forward and offers a small kiss on my cheek. When she leans back, there's something different in her eyes. A question. She glances at Maren, then back at me, and the corner of her mouth turns up.

"Maybe we can meet again sometime, when you're not…" she glances at Maren again, "Preoccupied." She offers a meaningful look. "I don't run."

I flex my jaw, knowing that Maren is seeing this entire exchange. I feel like an idiot for missing the signs.

"Goodbye, Amanda," I say, dismissing her proposition. She smiles again, but this time with unspoken understanding. There will not be another meeting. Not for business, nor for any other reason.

She leads the way from the restaurant, and from the back I can see the slight glance she shoots toward Maren. But my girl doesn't give her the time of day. She looks past Amanda, settling her wary gaze on me .

"Are you ready to go?" I guide her to her feet. She pauses, as if to mull something over. Then she lifts her hand and brushes her thumb over my cheek where Amanda kissed me.

"I never want to see another woman's lipstick on any part of your body," she says, and I can't help but laugh.

"You better wear lipstick tonight, because it's your red lips I want all over my body."

And goddamn, the look in her eyes rumbles through me and straight to my cock. She's like a drug, and I've barely had a taste. I need this woman in my bed tonight, and every night after.

"You should probably work on your persuasion skills," she teases, then slips her hand into mine before I lead her from the bar.

Once outside, she shivers as the cold air meets her bare arms. Her jacket is hanging over her purse, and she starts to unfold it when I stop her.

"Turn around," I command. Her eyes sparkle, and I have the feeling she's secretly enjoying when I order her around, as she complies without argument. I slide the sleeves over her arms, running my hand across her skin as I do, then rest at her collarbone. I lean forward, my lips brushing against her ear.

"Let's get out of here," I whisper. She nods and starts to turn, but she freezes as her eyes settle on a group of people across the way. Four guys and one girl.

"Lydia," she breathes.