Chapter 18
Mace
Good morning sex was an incredible way to start a day.
Who knew this sated feeling translated into an energetically happy morning that lasted all day long.
A huff of a breath escaped as I realized I was no longer my own person.
Images played like a slideshow inside my head, capturing the sweetest of moments.
The second Slade had finished inside me, the way he tumbled down on top of me, his body instinctively curling around mine, the special way he cooed those three terrifying and wonderful words at the shell of my ear.
I spent every minute away from him counting the time until I returned. It mattered to me.
This morning, I had left to gather more clothes and shut my house down for our three-day trip away. Of course, I had reservations about going, but I also had an underlying excitement. Our conditions were set. He and I would go as buddies. We had this.
“I’m packed and on my way back. If we leave early enough, maybe we could get some breakfast,” I texted after slinging my duffle bag into the bed of the truck. The instant drumming dots at the bottom of the screen told me that Slade had been waiting for my return.
“I’m still coasting on a sex high. It’s a marvel how your body responds to mine. We move together on instinct. It makes our sex the most incredible of my life. Jesus, Mace.”
My grin was instant. Slade’s emotions always tumbled out of his mouth or in this case his fingers. I didn’t know how he was able to get anything else done in his day. I expected to receive sonnets soon enough.
“Do you always say what you think?” I typed teasingly, already knowing the answer.
I’d hopped into my truck. We had a schedule to keep.
I should start the engine and finish this conversation face-to-face.
Of course I didn’t, using my thumbs to type on the screen as the visor helped block the intense rays of the sun.
“My resting bitch face usually keeps people away from me,” he replied with a laughing emoji attached.
At least I turned the key to start the engine, sitting there with the rumble vibrating through me as I typed. “I don’t see it. I’m going to have to see this other side of you soon or I’m not going to believe you.”
While texting with Slade was great, I forced the phone to the seat beside me. I’d pressed the brake and dropped the gear shift into drive when the next text came through. I was shit to do anything more than pick up the phone. My boot pressed harder against the brake. Who knew why?
“I’m into you,” Slade replied. My grin was immediate.
“I know,” I responded, loving the silly way I handled Slade.
Of course, I knew he wanted the same affirmation back.
I rarely replied to anything in the way he wanted.
It seemed like a dangerous precedent to begin now.
“Those words play on repeat whenever I’m around you.
” That was likely the truest statement I’d ever made and continued with the fun of the morning.
I released my foothold on the brake and inched forward, phone still in my hand.
After this last reply, I’d take off, ignore any other messages until I got back to his place.
“What does it look like if you went back to New York with me?” he asked.
My abrupt laughter startled me. Okay. Well, I hadn’t expected that response. The thought was absurd. Hell, even I understood I wasn’t tough enough to handle that speed in life. I enjoyed distance from the crowds. How would I cope with a twenty-four seven constant chaos?
Absently, I stopped the truck again as I worked my thumbs feverishly to get my words sent.
“I’m a hillbilly, Slade. I’m not New York City material.
What would I even do there?” I shook my head definitively, the question didn’t even deserve a response but I gave one anyway.
“Who would take care of the sanctuary if I left?”
With that, I tossed the phone back into the seat next to me and picked up the cowboy hat, placing it back on my head. When the phone dinged, I managed to leave it in the seat while I picked up speed, driving in the direction of Slade’s place. Another ding followed then another.
I counted it a win that I managed to let all those texts go semi-unnoticed and fully unread.
My influence in Slade’s life felt very much like a life preserver that he clung to, doing his best to stay above water. I believed he needed my grounded attitude toward life. I got it. Having roots was the only thing that helped me survive all the loss I’d experienced.
When I pulled into Slade’s circle drive, I spotted him on the porch, arms crossed, a scowl on his handsome face. For some reason, it made me laugh out loud again. Happiness was fucking addictive.
“You aren’t a hillbilly, Mace,” he said the exact moment I stepped one boot-covered foot on the rocky driveway as I exited the cab.
“Why?” I called back, grinning. “Because callin’ myself a hillbilly’s actually offensive to real hillbillies?” I laughed before the final word could be said, tickled at my reply. Slade, on the other hand, only lifted a cocked brow.
“I feel like my feelings should be hurt,” Slade countered as I started toward him.
“Well, we can’t have that. You have too many feelin’s to manage already,” I responded, enjoying this way of banter better than any other time before.
“You’re magnificent. Don’t make light of your value in this world,” he scolded, the brow still arched. “But based on the giant grin on your face, I might have misunderstood the humor in your text. I can see that now.”
Jeez, my guy was something else. I bypassed him and the statement, going for the front door. But I couldn’t help noting the obvious. “You shaved.”
=?=
Slade
I watched him pass by, only then realizing that he’d changed into a newish pair of blue jeans, Wranglers to be specific, and wore polished boots. His pearl button long-sleeve shirt had the sleeves rolled and pushed to his elbow. The roll wasn’t haphazard, but instead neatly executed.
My cowboy had dressed to impress. Mace was also letting his facial hair grow into a goatee. I’d missed what he was trying to do with his appearance because of his inability to actually grow facial hair. I wasn’t sure how long it would take for his hair to fill in to make the tee.
My ire eased as I followed after him. The way he walked, one leg in front of the other, his ass swinging under the slight bowed strut, captivated me every single time.
“The goatee’s new. Looks good on you,” I said as Mace reached for my leather bag in the entry.
“This goin’ to the Jeep?” he asked, glancing back at me. My gaze stayed on the powerful thighs, remembering how he’d wrapped them around me, locking me in place. His wrestling moves had dislodged me, driving my back to the mattress.
“Yeah… and the laptop bag. I’ll get it,” I said, but didn’t move to do so.
Oh man, my cowboy was making it damned hard to remember our goals. My cock had turned hard as stone. So rigid, it wasn’t going to relax easily. Mace had managed to change his appearance with only a few alterations. Pretty impressive.
“I got it. You make coffee?” Mace asked, slipping past me with all my luggage in hand.
I didn’t make it easy for him to pass me without grinding my cock against his. His gaze landed on mine.
“We just fucked. Why’s that so hard? We gotta get on the road,” he said, leaving no room for anything more than getting on the road quickly. He left me standing there to trot down the steps toward the Jeep.
Well, okay. The defeat was real.
“Yeah. I’ll grab our coffee tumblers and my phone and we can head out.” My shoulders slumped, my cock rejecting the way I easily gave in. I started for the kitchen when I heard his boots clicking on the floor, coming toward me. I quickly grabbed the coffee and my things and started toward Mace.
“There’s a Waffle House on the way. Wanna go there to grab a bite?” Mace took his cup from my hand, and I reached in my jeans pocket to verify the key fob was still there when a loud ding alerted us of the back door being opened.
“You weren’t picking up your phone,” Nico, my head of security, stated in that hard, gravelly tone he used. As he spoke, he came around the corner, one work boot clomping in front of the other until he stopped dead in his tracks.
The instant heat that radiated off Mace affected me with a sudden anxiety spike, causing me to look his way, not Nico’s. Something happened, but hell if I understood it. “Sorry, boss. I thought you were still alone.”
Mace set his coffee on the counter and shoved past me in a protectionary way. His menacing glare transformed his beautiful face into fierce accusation.
“You said you were alone. Who’s this guy?” Mace asked, his tone hard and unyielding as I now stared at the back of his head.
“Whoa. This is Nico.” I angled myself between the two men. “You know my security team’s constantly monitoring for me. The world’s a hard place for men like me…”
“No,” Mace said flatly, finally turning the glare at me. All right, interesting turn, I liked it so much better when that mean stare was directed at Nico. “So, this guy’s in the house with you when I’m not here?”
My eyebrow slid up as my mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again. No sound came. Mace was jealous? I couldn’t seem to process that realization fast enough.
“I’m not in the house with him,” Nico answered in my silence.
True to form, he was the deescalation king.
It always impressed me since Nico knew a hundred different ways to subdue an attacker.
If Nico wanted, Mace would be planted on the ground before he managed to blink an eye.
My security guard lifted both hands in the air as a peace offering.
“We’re stationed about halfway from the main house and your property. ”
“Mace, I have a team of six men…”