Chapter 24
“Mac, put me down.”
Ember hangs over one shoulder, her naked wet body against mine as droplets fall from her hair onto the stone path.
“Do we have a problem, Everett?” The crowd parts as I walk through the gardens, music still bumping in the background. “Or are you fucking stupid? I asked you to do one thing and you’ve fucked it. What if my father saw? The rest of the town sure as hell did.”
Pushing the wooden door to the garden shed open gets us away from the party. The noise quiets when the door creaks shut. Green overflows the space, plants and flowers littered throughout. The smell of earth blends with flowers, but the rum off her breath is what I smell most.
“You don’t listen to me either,” she yells. “Especially when I say shit like put me down!” Ember wriggles harder, my eyes landing on a pile of frost blankets in the corner. Kicking some tools aside, I move towards them and follow her command. “Ow!” she yells, her ass hitting the blankets.
A wooden stool sits next to a stack of soil and I collapse onto it, rolling up my sleeves. Ember looks up at me, her wet hair hanging over her face, her naked body exposed and her mouth twisted.
Leaning forward I tug on the choker she still wears. She stumbles closer before she tugs back, the collar tightening around her.
I cock a brow as she tugs harder, like she doesn’t care that it’s choking her but I won’t let up. And she won’t either. It’s a game of chicken with her breath on the line and it doesn’t look like she’s giving up.
“Fuck,” she spits, red filling her face. “You.”
Tilting my head to the side, I see how much she’s willing to endure. “How much are you willing to sacrifice to prove you’re a stubborn little slut?” She makes a gurgling sound, my cock coming to life. “I told you to stay away from Gray.”
“Why?” she squeaks, using the bit of air she has to annoy me. Psycho.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re a team.”
With gritted teeth, she stares right into my eyes. Her words cut short but I hear each one. “Then where the fuck were you?” Loosening my hold, I lean over to catch her when she falls. She speaks between gasps of air, those watery, bloodstone eyes shooting up at me. “Where the fuck were you, Mac?” Lifting her off the ground I lay her over my lap, pinning her with one arm. “Are you fucking hard, you psycho?” She wriggles more and that doesn’t help. “What are you gonna do? Spank me?”
“Yeah, I am.” My hand slaps on her wet, naked ass, the sound ringing through the shed. Her body arches off my lap, another gasp leaving her before I do it again.
“That”s all you got?” She urges me on like she wants more. Like she needs more.
Smack!
The way my cock hardens underneath her and the way she pokes her ass up tells me I’m right.
Grabbing a fistful of her wet hair gets her to arch her back some more. “I will make you stay in line if that’s what you want.” My words are as firm as my hand landing on her ass. She hisses on the next smack but I don’t let up. I hit the same place over and over again. But something tells me she’s getting more than pain. “You like pissing me off, don’t you, Everett?”
“Real men are men of their word, McKinsley.”
“Real men like Gray?” My fingers trail to her slit, telling me more than she ever will. She’s so fucking wet and that only makes me harder. “Does Gray make you wet like this?” Pushing my fingers inside her, I smack her ass again. “Or is that from pissing me off?” A moan escapes her when I thrust my fingers inside her wet, warmth. My free hand moves back to her hair, tugging on it. Her head lifts, her body getting hotter against my lap. “I asked you a fucking question and you better have an answer for what that was.”
“You left me.” Her words land through her moans. “And that video?” My thrusts slow, my brows lowering. “We’re not a team. You’re a dictator and you don’t care who you hurt. Greta, Gray, me…”
Pulling on her hair, I swing her to her knees, my cock bulging through my slacks. With one hand around her strands, I unbuckle my pants and my cock springs out like he”s craving her mouth. She looks at it, then me. Her fluttering eyes tell me she wants it. “You owe me an apology.”
Pulling her to my cock, a stillness washes over me when she takes me in her mouth. And it’s everything I remember. Calmness. Rage. Peace and mayhem.
Pushing her head further, she chokes but I keep her there until the feeling of her throat makes my toes curl in my shoes. Pulling her away, I smirk at the tears streaming down her face.
“You as sorry as you look, Butterfly?” She spits on my dick in response but that only riles me up. Putting her mouth back on my staff, she chokes again, her body rising as if she’s ready to blow but I coax her some more. “Just a little bit, you’re doing so good.” Her throat tightens and expands around me and I can’t hide my curses any longer. “Fuck…” Pulling her off again, snot rolls down her nose and the next word slips. “Beautiful.” I’m about to bring her down on my cock again before she sticks her tongue out. I chuckle, using my free hand to smack my length against her tongue. “You”re a sorry little slut aren’t you?”
She nods before I push my cock down her throat again. She gags and I feel that storm building inside me. Keeping her there, I let it build some more until I’m ready to explode, right down her throat.
But Ember taps my thigh, so I pull her up. “Sorry,” she spits, gasping for air. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re about to be.” Pulling her lips back on my cock, I push myself as far as I can go. Then I let myself go.
Everything goes quiet.
My dad. Coach.
Everything but the sounds of Ember slurping every last drop out of me.
Is that an earthquake?
My eyes open, to the room still intact. And the girl who causes the floor beneath me to shake.
When Ember sits back on her knees, my cream drips from her mouth, her tongue gliding along her bottom lip. Something twists inside me, my hand stroking my remaining hardon. “Good girl.” I take a moment to take in that pretty picture.
No one else can have this.
No one else can have her.
And now? I have to make sure of that.
Pulling up my pants, I grab my shirt and move towards the door.
“Mac?” Ember calls. “Are you seriously leaving me again?”
My hand on the door, I look over my shoulder. “Fool me once, Everett. But fool me twice? There will be consequences.”
Ember
My assstill stings when that familiar scent takes over me, stirring me awake.
Opening my eyes reminds me where I am.
A gardening shed. He left me in a shed.
I fell asleep on a pile of cloths softer than my sheets back in The Valley. As for the rest of the space, it’s like an eclectic old lady lives here. Flower pots and baskets sit on shelves. Chimes hang from wooden beams. An array of flowers fill the space. There’s even a little window letting some moonlight trickle in.
An arm comes around me. His. Then his body presses against mine. Naked. Warm.
“You left me.” My words come out a tired murmur.
“You stayed.” Mac’s voice in my ear is the deadliest lullaby.
His smooth hardness presses against my skin as a finger trails my breasts in this gentle, teasing way. Shivers fire through me when he pinches my nipple, his staff throbbing on my ass. And when a soft moan escapes me, he hardens even more.
His shaft sits by my entrance, teasing me. Then he says two words I never thought I’d hear from the Malcolm McKinsley. “I’m sorry.”
My eyes widen. And with that, he pushes himself into me with little effort. My back arches against him as a rapture roars through me. It”s easy to accept him inside me. It always is.
“Remember two things,” he says, his voice a growly whisper. “One, I’m on your team.” We move together, his thrusts hard but his pace slow while I’m wrapped in his dominating arms. It’s new, but in a way that feels familiar. I can feel the frantic pace of his heart on my back, it matches mine, a contrast to the steady rhythm he consumes me with. “Two, you’re mine, Ember Everett.”
Those words push that fire through me, giving me that same rush of heat doing lines with Gray does. His hand comes to my throat, his staff filling me, threatening to break me yet again. I moan as his grip tightens around me, his thrusts firm and hard, like he’s sealing the deal with his body. “Say it,” he groans but it’s all overwhelming. His body. His words. The way my nails dig into his skin as I beg for both mercy and savagery. But when I don’t answer, he urges more. “Say. It.”
My words shake through heavy breaths, my ass moving back on him. “I”m not yours until you act like I am.”
“I will if you will.” He moves his hips again, his lips against my ear. “Now, say it.” He thrusts harder, his pace quickening, his staff throbbing against my walls. The sound of my ass smacking against his waist fills the air, the smell of us mixing with the floral scent in the air. It makes it all as intoxicating as he is. Way more intoxicating than drugs.
My vision blurs as he pushes me there, right to the edge. Right to fucking paradise.
“Ember…” he groans, my name on his tongue making every muscle in my body tighten. The room around us brightens, the ground beneath us shaking. His hand comes to my throat before he says my name again. “Ember.”
“I’m yours!” My loud words mix with my cry as an earthquake builds inside me. “I’m fucking yours.”
“Let go, Butterfly,” he grunts.
I mimic his words. “Let go, Mac.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I want all of you. Prove I’m yours.” His pace quickens, his grip on my throat tightening before I hit that shattering release. “Yes, yes.” This time, I’m the one to urge him on, looking for something that bonds us. Something that he can’t take back. “Please,” I beg as that tremor builds and when I feel him release inside me, I can’t contain my cry. I can’t contain my release.
We let our darkness consume us. Together.
The world stops for a moment, the two of us alone, on the ground. My body trembles against him. His abs twitch against my back as his shaft throbs his release inside of me, filling me with his all.
And when the world comes crashing back we stay there. The two of us in our world.
In our darkness.
A team.
You’re mine.
Mac’s words stay in my head all the way back to The Emerald early in the morning. He was there to pick me up and drive the two minutes to campus proving it.
He also eyed my choice of a t-shirt and torn-up jeans making him question why I won’t wear anything he buys me. Despite whatever we have going on, despite where I am, I’m still me. The me that he accepts.
I’ve accepted things on his end too. His monstrous persona. His fancy clothes and car. That’s because as far as I know, he’s mine too.
At least I think.
I can’t help but wonder what happens when we’re out of this mess. Am I kidding myself that I can be with someone like him? In his world?
The wind blows through my curls as I sit on the rim of the stone fountain in the quad. The same one Mac tossed me into when we reunited. My eyes stay on my sketchpad, working away at a project. Mac sits beside me in his regular black-on-black uniform. Black slacks. Black shirt. Tobacco fills the air as he puffs on his cigarette, tapping away at his phone.
There’s peace sitting next to him. No one questions why I’m here or tells me I don’t belong. With him, I do.
“Think you’ll ever play again, McKinsley?” Ryung joins us, sitting next to Mac in his own black attire. A mesh collared shirt and silky joggers to match. “Or is your career ruined forever?”
Ryung’s words ricochet through me, that moment at the rink rushing to my mind. The way Mac went down was harrowing. Especially knowing it’s my fault. But there’s a comfort in knowing it brought us closer together. Our darkness always does, even with that guilt still heavy on my chest. I just don’t know if he feels the same.
Mac doesn’t lift his head, tapping at his phone. “I’m focused on other things right now.”
“Looks like I’ll have to rely on Gray for our next game.” Ryung lights up a cigarette too. It’s amazing how these guys have enough cardio to perform on the ice. “Where is Gray, by the way? I haven’t seen him.”
Ryung’s question makes me lift my head. Seeing how Mac reacted last night, it’s a question in my head too.
Mac doesn’t respond, his eyes still on his phone.
“Weird,” I chime in, hoping for an answer. “And where’s Greta? Did we ever find out what happened to her after she got arrested?” I found her on social media but she hasn’t answered any messages I sent.
Mac leans over. ”How far along are you on your project?”
Straight to business. “Almost on three,” I respond. It’s hard keeping up with his workload with classes, but a sense of fullness comes with it. Art, classes, Mac. My present could very well be my future. It’s a hell of a step up from graffitiing the streets of The Valley with Angelo.
“Then you have time tonight.”
My brows furrow. “For what?”
“Your mother wants to meet you.”
The world tilts. My heart stops.
My head whips to him, the rest of my thoughts fading. “You—you got a hold of her?”
“Easy to do when she bought your painting.” He turns to me, locking those iron eyes on mine and things don’t feel so scary anymore. “Sun House. Six o’clock.”
“Is that the time for murder?” Hannah and her entourage pass by, glaring daggers at me.
Her outfit is as revealing as last night”s, like she’s trying extra hard to get Mac’s attention. This time she’s opted for a white mini skirt that hits mid-thigh with a matching crop top.
“How does it feel being the last person to see, Beau, Ember?” Her voice is loud, drawing attention to us. My lips flatten, jaw tightening, her voice like a buzzing mosquito.
“Don’t,” Mac says, his eyes still focused on me. “Don’t react.”
“Easy for you to say, you weren’t in that video,” I remind him. My eyes narrow, my mind back on the humiliation I felt last night. “How did that video get out, Mac?”
His eyes narrow into mine. “Six o’clock at Sun House. Understand?”
“Who’s your next victim, Ember?” Hannah asks, still standing near the fountain as heat rises to my head. “I hope they can swim.”
Reaching forward I wrap my fists around Mac’s shirt, pulling him to me. It’s easier than I thought it would be to pull his rock-hard body towards me, but he lets me, his lips landing on mine. He smirks against my face, and like the animal he is, presses my back against the stone. It’s easy to forget Hannah’s there, the way he consumes my body, his hand climbing into my shorts.
“She’s dangerous, Mac.” Hannah’s voice fades in and out of the haze I’m in. “Ask Greta.” But her last words make my whole body still.
Mac pulls away, and when I sit up, Hannah’s squad moves towards the main building but her words stay.
“Mac, what happened to Greta?” I ask. “And where’s Gray?”
His brows lower. “Focus, Butterfly.” He stands, and so does Ryung. “You have a date with your mother.”
“Oh, you came.”
My mom doesn’t greet me with a hello or a hug when I arrive at Sun House. She hardly looks up from her magazine, a beige wide-brim hat on top of her red hair.
She waves her white-tipped nails towards the velvet chairs in front of her. There”s no space for me next to her on the leather sofa tucked in the furthest corner of the lounge.
A glass of wine and a platter of assorted vegetables sit on the table. As I join her, I can feel the sweat build on my skin beneath my brand-new outfit. For once, I caved and wore something Mac bought me: flared black velvet pants and a black blazer on top of a laced blouse. He’s made me confident in showing a bit of skin despite my size and height. But how my mom eyes my stomach makes me want to cover it with the menu.
“It’s so nice to finally talk to you.”
“First thing’s first.” She holds up a finger, dropping the magazine on the table. “I will not answer questions about why I left. I will not answer questions about your father. I’m doing this as a favour.” She pauses, sipping her wine as my shoulders fall. “Oh, don’t be so sad. I’m here, aren’t I?”
It’s hard not to stare at her as she adjusts the beige shawl over her shoulders. While she’s older than the photo in my locket, she’s still stunning. The crow”s feet in her eyes and the small lines on her face take nothing from her beauty. It’s clear where I get my button nose and wide lips from. And it’s very clear her side of the family gave me this head of red hair. That I always knew.
“What?” she asks, shaking me out of my gaze.
“I just can’t believe you’ve been here the entire time.” The words fall out before I have a chance to think.
“Not exactly,” she says. “I returned for a short period for work. Then I bumped into your art. It’s gotten better. Congrats.” She speaks to me like she’s in a business meeting. Cold. Disinterested.
“Can I ask you something?” The waiter comes by for my order but I’m too interested in this woman in front of me. She looks like my mother, but she doesn’t act like it.
“Depends,” she responds, shooing the waiter away.
“If you didn”t buy my art at Mac’s house, would you ever find me?” My heart pounds, anticipating her response.
“Mac?” Her eyes narrow in the same way mine do when I’m confused. “Oh,” she chuckles Even her laugh is like mine. Low and throaty. “Malcolm. That boy has a future. He”s been asking about the league and if he has a chance to make the team.”
Wait. “He didn’t talk about me?”
“A little. That’s why I’m here. Outside of hockey, he mentioned he wouldn’t tell anyone we’re related if I at least sat with you for dinner.”
My chest threatens to cave in on my heart. “So you didn’t want to meet me?”
She blinks. “Are you hungry? Dinner is on me.”
But I’ve lost my appetite. “You know I never knew what happened to you. You didn’t even come back when Dad died.”
“I thought it was clear we would not discuss your father.”
“I grew up in a trailer.”
“I’m sorry your father couldn’t provide.”
My fist tightens, banging on the table. “Neither could you! Why did you have me? Why did you leave?”
Cara looks around her. “You’re making a scene. Can you please not be so dramatic? You get that from him.”
Looking around, she’s right. Everyone on this side of the lounge stares at us and I’m already the talk of the town. “I—I should go.”
“Suit yourself.”
Pushing from my seat, she doesn’t fight for me to stay. Hell, she doesn’t even ask me to. My legs wobble on the way to the door, the room tilting around me. My throat tightens the more our convo spins in my head as I rush the doors.
When the outside air hits my face, I’m finally able to take a breath. My hand comes to the locket around my neck. Pulling it off, I open it, staring at the woman I longed to sit across from. My nose tickles, my eyes blurring. My eyes move to Dad’s picture. Did he know she was like this? Why didn’t he tell me?
“Oh good, just the person I want to see.” Hannah’s voice comes from my left. It”s the last voice I want to hear right now.
My eyes move to her, and what I see in her hand makes me drop my locket to the ground.
Beau’s phone.