Chapter 2
2
PENNY
OCTOBER. SEVEN MONTHS AGO.
My friends were by the fire pit, deep in conversation about God-knew-what. It never failed. Whenever we all got together, the wildest stories came out.
Take tonight, for instance. I’d just learned way too many details about the time Logan walked in on Aspen and Boone getting hot and heavy in the farm stand. Honestly? Good for her. But poor Logan… What I’d give to have been a fly on that wall.
I was filling my cup when I felt a brush on my arm. Expecting to see someone behind me, I spun around, but no one was there.
Brows drawn, I scanned the crowd. Boone and Rhodes were leaning against the wall, beers in hand. Aspen, Theo, and Logan were still by the fire, their laughter carrying across the cool night.
Weird.
I shrugged it off and turned back, only to feel a hand grab me.
Before I could react, I was yanked backward. My drink sloshed over the rim, splashing my wrist as my heels scrambled for traction.
“Jesus!” I gasped, stumbling behind the barn wall. A hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off my yelp.
My pulse slammed in my ears. My eyes widened, frantically adjusting to the dark room. I was ready to fight. No one was going to take me without some kicking and screaming. That was until a flash of neon-green hair caught the dim light.
Heat curled low in my belly.
“Shhh. Keep it down, woman,” Mac whispered against my ear, his deep timbre sending a shiver down my spine.
He tugged me farther from the party, weaving us into the shadows, away from the glow of string lights and the hum of conversation. When we were finally hidden, he let go of my mouth.
“What the hell was that?” I hissed, running a finger along my bottom lip, checking it in the moonlight to see if my lipstick had smudged.
Mac stepped closer, his presence invading my space like he had every right to be there.
I instinctively backed up, my ankle hitting the first step of the stairs that led up to the loft.
His lips curled into a slow, devilish grin.
A silent dare.
A game.
I stepped up.
He followed.
Step.
Closer.
Step.
Closer.
My heart was loud in my ears until we were finally secluded in the loft, shrouded in the heavy scent of hay, dust, and earth.
The air between us thickened.
And my pulse? Raced.
Mac stood a few feet away, the hay chute door cracked open just enough to let in a sliver of moonlight, casting a faint glow across his face. That damn smirk of his hadn’t wavered, and despite myself, I found my lips curving into one of my own.
I made one tentative step forward, but he didn’t move.
We were stuck in this push and pull, a slow-burning game of tension while our friends partied below, completely unaware.
“I needed to get you away,” Mac finally said, pulling the cigarette from behind his ear and fishing a lighter from his pocket.
I stayed rooted in place, so he made the next move, walking past me to a bale of hay before sinking onto it with ease.
Click. Click.
The flame flickered, catching the tip of his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, the end glowing red-hot, before exhaling a slow stream of smoke into the air.
On anyone else, smoking wasn’t my type. But Mac? He made it look irresistible.
Deciding to join, I plopped down on the hay beside him, sending a few stray pieces tumbling to the floor.
“And why is that?” I asked, tilting my head as his gaze roamed over me, starting at my heels, trailing up my body, lingering on the cat ears perched on my head. The slow perusal sent heat licking up my spine, my skin prickling in the best way possible.
“Selfish reasons,” he admitted, smirking as he took another drag, the smoke curling from his lips like a secret I desperately wanted to know.
I arched a brow. “You do know an open flame around dry hay probably isn’t the smartest idea, right?”
Mac shrugged and pulled a makeshift ashtray from his inside pocket—an empty beer can with the top cut off. “It’ll be fine.” He flicked the cigarette, embers cascading into the bottom with a soft hiss.
The hum of music from below felt distant up here, dulled by the quiet tension stretching between us. More space for conversation. More room for whatever the hell he meant by selfish reasons.
“Are you going to elaborate on those reasons,” I asked, shifting to face him fully, resting an arm on the back of the hay bale, “or leave a woman guessing?”
Mac chuckled, his gaze darkening as he adjusted his position, closing the space between us.
We were already too close, and yet my body hummed for him to be closer.
“Maybe,” he murmured, holding the cigarette between his fingers as he reached toward me, his thumb brushing my cheek. The flame hovered dangerously close, yet I didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.
“I saw an opportunity to spend some more time with you. One-on-one.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “Without prying eyes.”
My pulse fluttered. “And what exactly are your plans for this one-on-one time?” I asked, inching closer, just enough to test him.
His hand fell away, but his gaze never left mine. I tracked the flicker of something dark and unreadable in his eyes before my attention dipped for a second to his mouth. As if sensing it, his tongue darted out, dragging across his bottom lip.
I swallowed hard.
Mac took another slow drag, then dropped the cigarette into the can, watching as it sizzled out, tendrils of smoke curling into the air.
Then, without warning, his hands found my waist.
One firm squeeze—then he grabbed hold and yanked me onto his lap.
A startled breath left my lips, but my body moved instinctively, legs landing on either side of him.
I rose slightly, knees digging into the hay bale as I glared down, hands planted firmly on his shoulders. His grip stayed locked on my waist, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.
“Something like this,” he whispered, one hand sliding up to tangle in my hair, pulling me in just enough to bring my face closer to his.
We lingered there, breaths mingling, heat crackling between us. I let my eyes slip shut, feeling his fingers tighten against my skin like he was barely holding himself back.
I was so close—close enough that my body ached for it and heat pooled deep in my stomach.
“I wouldn’t be opposed,” I murmured, my hands trailing up, cupping his jaw as I leaned the slightest bit closer.
“I’ve been staring at you all fucking night,” he said with a tone so low and masculine it caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. “So damn beautiful.”
My breath hitched exhale against my lips. My mind was short-circuiting. We were so near danger, so near falling over the cliff into each other.
His hand left my hair and trailed slowly and softly down my sides, following the curve of my waist.
“Especially in that tight outfit, teasing me.” He glanced away, and his eyes caught on my breasts. “Showing everyone exactly what is underneath.”
Mac glanced up, a wicked grin curling his lips. Heat burst under my skin, every nerve buzzing with raw, unfiltered need.
His thumb brushed over my breast, teasing the aching peak of my nipple through the thin fabric, and I moaned without shame, the sound slipping free like it had a mind of its own.
“Imagine my surprise,” he murmured, voice low and full of grit, “when I found out you pierced them.” His gaze darkened. “Can’t get that image out of my head.”
Neither could I.
God, I wanted him to wrap his lips around me, to run his tongue along the bar, to toy with the metal until I shattered from the teasing alone. I was desperate for it, desperate for him.
I couldn’t take the tension a second longer. I surged forward, crashing my mouth onto his in a kiss that exploded like fire and brimstone.
His lips crushed mine—firm and demanding. Mac’s tongue swept in like he had something to prove, and maybe he did. A low groan rumbled in his chest, and I pressed closer, drinking him in.
Smoke and whiskey. That’s what Mac tasted like. Dangerous. Addictive.
A shiver rolled through me, my body unraveling at the seams. I let go of every last thread of restraint and gave in to the moment, to him.
His hands roamed greedily, gliding over every inch of me like he needed to memorize my shape. Even through the spandex of my costume—which was officially the world’s worst cockblock—I burned for him. What the hell had I been thinking, wearing something so tight?
Mac’s villain costume, on the other hand? A total fantasy I hadn’t known I craved until now. The green-tinged hair. The smudged paint. The delicious chaos.
I rocked against him, feeling the hard press of his cock through his pants. Heat coiled low in my belly as our mouths met again, hot and frantic, like we were trying to make up for lost time.
Why had we spent so much time circling each other instead of this? I didn’t have the answer, but now that I’d had a taste of Mac Ridley, there was no going back.
I was desperate and horny, craving this like a drug I’d been starved of for far too long. And Mac? He was the cure.
He gripped my ass, kneading through the fabric, groaning at the feel of me. Then, without warning, he stood, hauling me into his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he carried me across the loft.
My back hit the wall with a thud, my breath catching, but Mac held me steady, his body pressing into mine, anchoring me to him.
The sound of the party below was distant, a heavy pulse of bass vibrating through the barn, but up here, in our own little world, the only thing I could hear was the sharp inhale of Mac’s breath and the pounding of my heart.
I was trapped between him and the wall, caged in by heat, by tension, by the undeniable pull that had been simmering between us.
And God help me—I never wanted to escape.
Mac fumbled with the zipper at the top of my costume, fingers trembling as I kissed him again and again, devouring every sound he made. When he finally yanked it down, the rush of cool air on my back made me shiver.
I pulled away enough to shove the tight fabric down my arms, but with Mac pinning me to the wall, it was a losing battle.
“A little fucking help,” I muttered against his mouth.
He smirked, then set me down abruptly.
His hands were everywhere. Yanking, stripping, peeling my costume away with an urgency that made my knees weak.
Just like that, I was bare.
Moonlight streamed through the loft’s open door, casting silver shadows across my skin.
Mac’s gaze dragged down my body, dark and hungry, his jaw twitching as his cock strained against his dress pants. He reached down, palming himself as his eyes drank me in.
I kicked off my boots, stepping fully out of the discarded suit, leaving nothing but my cat ears perched on top of my head.
Mac’s tongue swept along his bottom lip before running over his canine, his smirk downright sinful. “Even better than I imagined,” he rasped, voice thick with heat. “You are a fucking masterpiece.”
I stepped toward him, sliding my hands beneath his jacket, pushing it from his shoulders, letting it drop to the hay-covered floor.
The dress shirt underneath stretched across his broad chest, clinging in all the right places, practically begging me to strip it from his body.
So, I did.
Grabbing each side, I yanked hard.
Buttons popped, scattering across the wooden floor as I tore it open, exposing tattooed skin.
Mac let out a low, rough chuckle, eyes flashing with something dangerous.
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, Trouble.”
The nickname rolled off his tongue, sensual yet commanding. My blood turned molten, heat surging through my veins, my skin prickling with a desperate need for whatever came next.
“Hmm?” I feigned innocence as I tossed his shirt to the floor.
I’d seen Mac shirtless before, but now? Now that I could touch him, trace him? I was practically drooling at the thought.
Tattoos covered his smooth, fair skin, each one more captivating than the last. My gaze traced the design on his chest—two hands, fingers nearly touching. Lower, along his ribs, inked words ran the length of his torso, but I couldn’t quite make them out. Then, my favorite—two roses, one on each side of the deep V leading down to his—
I snapped my eyes back up, a wicked grin curling my lips.
Mac smirked, knowing exactly where my mind had gone.
The dress pants hung low on his hips, teasing, tempting. I reached out, dragging my fingers over his toned abs, up across his firm chest, then over his broad shoulders, savoring every inch of him.
“What’s my punishment?” I murmured, voice dripping with challenge. “How bad have I been?”
I slid my hands into his mop of dark brown hair tinged with green, tugging the strands just enough to earn a sharp inhale from him.
Mac’s grip snapped to my lower back, pulling me flush against him.
Bare skin to bare skin.
My nipples brushed against his chest, the friction sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight down my spine.
His breath fanned against my lips, taunting me.
“First, I’m going to bend that pretty ass over my knee,” he replied, his lips hovering close to mine as he spoke. “Then, spank you so fucking hard you’ll be screaming for me to stop.”
With me firmly in his grasp, Mac dragged me toward the hay bale and sat down as I stood before him.
Slowly, he leaned back, stretching as he lounged. He watched me through hooded eyes, then tapped his thigh in a silent command.
He wanted me in place.
But I didn’t move.
I needed to drag this out, to play the game we’d been perfecting for months.
“Penny,” he growled, his voice edged with warning. His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with impatience.
Still, I stood my ground, biting back a smirk.
Mac exhaled a slow, controlled breath, shaking his head like I was testing the last thread of his restraint. With stealth and precision, he reached out and grabbed the backs of my thighs before yanking me forward.
I gasped, catching myself on his shoulders before he shifted me into place, flat across his lap, stomach down.
Right where he wanted me.
“I won’t ask again,” he said, voice a low growl.
He brushed a hand over my bare ass, fingers circling, teasing. Goosebumps formed in his wake.
I huffed, trying to keep my defiant edge, but when I felt that same finger move suddenly between my legs, I lost all sense of power I had.
Mac ran his middle finger through my core, starting at my clit and working his way to my entrance before shoving in once and pulling out completely.
“You’re soaked,” Mac groaned, repeating the motion, his fingers teasing, testing. “Care to tell me why?”
I swallowed hard, my breath hitching. My mind was chaos, but somehow, I still managed to blurt out a wise-ass remark.
“If I have to explain that, maybe you need a little more experience.”
Mac let out a dark, amused chuckle, then without warning—crack.
His palm landed hard against my ass, a sharp sting blooming across my skin. I gasped, my body jolting from the impact.
“Did they not teach you that in sex ed? When a female is—”
Crack.
“Not the answer you wanted?” I was testing his patience, and my God, I was drenched.
“Tell me, Pen,” he said, rubbing my burning skin. “Is it me that gets you this wet? Because this—you over my knee, soaked and squirming—is what I think about when I stroke my cock.”
A whimper left my mouth at his filthy words. I’d always pictured Mac as the silent-but-deadly type. Instead, he was the kind to talk you through it, praise you, and make you crave more.
“Get up,” he said. “Be a good girl and stand. Be a bad one…” He trailed off, his voice a promise.
So desperately, I want to be a bad girl, disobey, just to have him punish me more. But my body was raging with arousal, my pulse hammering in my ears. I needed him to fuck me, rough and hard.
“Yes, sir,” I murmured, standing to my full height.
Mac lounged, pants undone, his cock thick and straining beneath the waistband. He looked wrecked—makeup smudged and hair wild.
“Gimme a spin,” he instructed, lazily twirling two fingers in the air.
Slowly, I followed his command, feeling his gaze rake over me, scorching every inch of my exposed skin.
When I turned back to face him, I smirked. “Now what?”
His lips curled, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. “So eager to follow orders now?”
Mac stood, moving toward me with slow, catlike grace—predatory.
I nodded, teeth sinking into my bottom lip, anticipation crackling between us.
When he was close enough, I lifted my chin, my breath hitching at his proximity.
Mac’s fingers found my jaw, tilting my face up as he held my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
I was his for the taking.
He placed a kiss on my lips and pulled away, mumbling, “bend over and let me see that pretty pussy, Pen.”
“I don’t get to see all of you?” I asked, running a hand from his chest down his abs and between the two roses that pointed directly to his cock. “What do you think goes through my mind when I touch myself?”
A growl fell from Mac’s lips, and he spun me quickly, slamming me against the bale. With one hand, he held me down, bent at the waist, ass pointing toward him. With the other hand, he pulled out his cock, running it along my entrance, covering himself with me.
“This won’t be the last time you’re naked for me. We’ve spent too much time fucking around.”
The tip of him ran along me again, teasing my entrance. Pushing back, I silently begged for it.
“I’m on birth control,” I huffed, desperately wanting to feel his skin on mine.
“And I’m clean,” he replied, rubbing a hand over my backside.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Without further warning, Mac’s cock disappeared inside of me. I didn’t know what to expect but when he buried himself to the hilt, I felt him so deep inside me.
I stretched to take all of him, my body adjusting to his size as he fucked me. A moan left my lips, my head tilting back in pleasure. Every thrust, every move of his hips hit the exact spot I needed.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned, my voice high-pitched and whiney. I rocked against the hay, Mac’s hands still applying pressure between my shoulder blades. “Harder.”
Mac obliged, his hips smacking against my ass. Euphoria built at my spine as he changed his angle, thrusting up against the sensitive spot.
Over the bass of the music downstairs, I heard Mac growl, and his hand left my back to fall to my hip. Both hips now in his grasp, he pulled me against him in quick, desperate thrusts.
“Just like that,” he coaxed. “You’re so fucking tight.” The timbre of his voice—his praise—set me on fire. I felt like at any moment I was going to combust and float away into the night.
“You’re so good,” I panted before I was yanked upward, my back pressed against Mac’s front. His hot breath brushed against my skin as he buried his face into my neck.
Mac’s teeth latched on, nibbling and sucking as he fucked me from behind. My hand flew up, cupping his face to hold him as close as possible.
He was marking me, placing his claim, which sent me over the edge.
I came, my climax hitting its peak, and my jaw went slack as I let out a satisfied scream.
Mac clapped a hand over my mouth, muffling the noise. “Shhh,” he barked, still fucking me through it. “As much as I love how loud you are, you have to stay quiet.”
“Mac,” I moaned against his hand.
He pulled out, groaning as he came, hot and messy on my back. I collapsed against the hay I’d just been bent over.
Panting, I was trying to get the air my lungs so desperately needed.
There was a soft tap on my shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. My heart rate was still high; the pounding echoed in my ears. I needed a moment.
Mac stood next to me, that familiar, cocky grin tugging at his lips.
“How about I help you back into this thing?” he asked, my suit dangling from his grasp.
I exhaled a laugh, still breathless, still buzzing. “Please.”
Once we were at least somewhat put together, we snuck back downstairs, slipping into the crowd like nothing had happened. A quick exchange of winks, a lingering glance, and then I was gone, disappearing into the night with my heart pounding against my ribs.
I replayed every moment on an endless loop. The way his hands felt on my skin, the way he tasted, the way my name had sounded on his lips.
When the sun peeked through the blinds the next morning, my first thought was Mac.
Because that night wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t sure it ever would be.
Penny: So, when are we doing that again?????
Mac: How did you know I was thinking the same thing?
Penny: I usually have that impact on people
Mac: I’ll come over right now if you want me to, no questions asked.
Penny: This is going to be dangerous…
Mac: You’re my kind of trouble (;