Street Game (25 page)

She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t break his hold on her, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was proving a point. He gave her what he wanted to give her. Lust, brutal and strong and controlling, such pleasure she might not survive it. He’d give her his protection. But it was going to be on his terms, not hers.

“Don’t you ever fucking leave me again, Jaimie,” he whispered hoarsely, his gaze boring into hers. “Do you understand me?”

She had no voice; she might never be able to speak again. She licked dry lips and managed a nod while deep inside, where no one could hear, she was screaming.

Mack searched her face for a long time before he seemed satisfied. He collapsed over the top of her, sprawling on her as he used to do. It was only then that she realized he still had his clothes on. She was completely naked and she hadn’t even realized he was nearly fully clothed until she felt his weight blanketing her. The material hurt her sensitive skin and he must have known it because he nipped her chin with his teeth, and then pressed a kiss over the sting before rolling off of her.

Jaimie closed her eyes as she flung one arm across her face. There was no hiding. She couldn’t pretend away the breathless cries or her ragged breathing as she fought for air. There was no way to fake her response to him. He knew exactly what he did to her. He lay next to her, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist, just as he had done so many times before while she lay wishing sex—great sex, mind-blowing sex—would be enough to sustain her, but knowing it would never be.

She hoped he’d go to sleep just like the many other times he’d worn himself out again and again until neither could move and then, without saying a word to her, he’d wrap her up in his arms and fall asleep. Now she didn’t want to talk, and he was stirring.

She’d always loved him, from the first moment she’d seen him, so big and sure of himself. So completely confident. Just the opposite of her. It had been hero worship all those years ago and Mack had treated her like a puppy, a little girl all eyes and a mop of curly hair with a brain too advanced for her years. He’d seen her through all those awkward times with a casual protection that evolved into something fierce and primitive.

Jaimie had always wanted to belong to him. She had been desperate to belong somewhere—
anywhere
—all her life, and there was Mack. He was everything she didn’t have. And it was dangerous to be desperate, to love someone too much. She didn’t think that was possible until right at that moment. She lay naked on the floor of her workroom, her heart pounding, head roaring, weeping inside. She wasn’t strong enough to resist him, and she never would be.

“I can feel your energy, Jaimie,” Mack said softly and turned his head to look at her.

The jolt, the thrill, she got every time he focused on her was pathetic. His eyes seemed to look right into her soul, a silly cliché, but Mack could make her feel like the only woman in the world just by looking at her.

“I know. You’re right, my talent is getting stronger. And I’m not screaming in pain. You were able to shield me.” She was screaming in pain, he just couldn’t hear her. “I guess we’re both growing stronger.” She didn’t get as much control of her voice as she would have liked, but if she was lucky, he would put the tremor down to regaining her breath.

He pushed himself up and looked around for her clothes. His hands were unsteady as he caught up her shirt. “There’s something magical that happens when we’re together.”

It was the last thing she expected him to say. Her breath caught in her throat. Mack didn’t say things like that. He didn’t have an ounce of the poet in him. He was all warrior, slashing eyes, grim, tough face, sure of himself. She could only nod her head, her throat closing unexpectedly.

“Sit up, baby. We made enough noise down here to bring the cops, let alone all the boys. We need to get you dressed.”

She felt the color sweep up her neck. He meant she’d made a lot of noise. She couldn’t remember, but she might have begged him not to stop. Loud. Very loud. There might have been a scream or two punctuating the pleading. She wasn’t certain she was ready to face him.

“I know I’m not good at talking to you the way you want, Jaimie,” he continued, his voice low as he tugged the T-shirt over her head. “I’m not exactly a smooth talker like Lucas, but I mean what I say.”

He’d never said anything. Not once. He’d never told her he loved her. He said he wanted her a million times, showed her he wanted her a million ways. Mack was very demanding when it came to sex—generous and demanding. He was always absolutely certain of himself and his power over her. She avoided his gaze as she lifted her arms and allowed him to slide the material over her head.

“Jaimie? Aren’t you going to talk to me?” He paused in the act of tugging her shirt over her breasts. “What’s wrong?” There was a soft, ominous note in his voice.

Energy separating was rather like coming down off a huge adrenaline rush. Their bodies tingled and raw nerve endings sparked and jumped. His shaft jerked and pulsed. Her womb clenched and wept.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You can look me in the eye and tell me the next time you’re thinking of running, you’ll talk to me instead.”

“I did talk to you.”

“Well, you obviously didn’t get through.” He jerked her shirt down and stood up, casually zipping up his jeans. He’d always been comfortable naked, padding around their apartment without clothes whenever possible, and he looked just as comfortable now even though they’d nearly brought down the place and the men couldn’t have failed to hear.

He had to steady her when she stood up, swaying, her body weak. “What did you want me to do, Mack? Hit you over the head with a two-by-four?”

“Yes, damn it, if that’s what it takes. You don’t walk out on me, Jaimie.”

He kept his hand on her arm as she yanked up her soft drawstring pants. She was trembling. His palm slid up and down her bare skin as if to soothe her.

“I’m not the same person I was,” she said, but even as she uttered the words, she wondered if she was lying. She fought hard to stand on her own, but the entire time she’d been building a future with the idea that Kane and Mack might need somewhere to go when they retired. They had to retire sometime, didn’t they? Did any of them even have a future?

Mack framed her face. “Don’t look so sad, Jaimie. We’ll make it.”

She wanted to believe that, but she’d seen the evidence stacking up against them and it was enormous. The GhostWalkers had enemies in their own camp. “I’m not like you, Mack. You rush in where angels fear to tread. You really do. You think you can save the world.” She gestured toward the stairs. “Every single one of us—Javier, Kane, me, Rhianna—all of us were broken and you picked us up and fixed us. You’d charge hell with a bucket of water. Nothing scares you. Nothing at all. You just do it. Whatever is required. You get it done.”

“Being without you scares me,” he admitted in a low, reluctant voice. He kept his gaze fixed on her averted face. She was so elusive, just out of reach when they’d crawled into each other’s souls. How the hell had she slipped away again?

Her head jerked up and she looked at him. He could read her shock, but didn’t understand it. Hell. She’d ripped out his soul when she’d left. Her tongue touched her lower lip, drawing his attention to the sweet, sexy curve of it. He couldn’t resist and leaned forward to catch the silken bow between his teeth, tugging gently before he kissed her.

Jaimie blinked up at him, that baffled, dreamy look he found utterly sexy on her face. She touched her lips. “I don’t understand you, Mack. I asked you about our future and you said we didn’t have one. You weren’t ready for the old ball and chain.”

There was enough raw hurt in her voice to make him wince.

“And when we had sex I could feel your emotions.” Now her voice was strained, so low he had to lean into her to hear. “You were angry, but more importantly, you resent wanting to be with me. Resentment is powerful and it overshadows a lot of other things. There’s no mistaking it. It’s hard to understand our relationship when you’re so resentful.”

He shrugged. “I’ve never been one to want to need someone, Jaimie. How hard is that to understand? It’s damned hard admitting to myself let alone you that I can’t do without you. You’re like some fucking addiction I can’t get rid of.”

She actually hunched, feeling the punch in her stomach. She swallowed the rising lump in her throat, determined to go all the way. If he wanted her to talk before walking out, then she was going to do it. “What about love, Mack? You’ve never once said you loved me.”

He shoved a hand through his hair in a quick, almost angry gesture, his eyes glittering. “What the hell do you want from me? I just told you how I felt. A few minutes ago you were screaming my name and begging me not to stop. What we have together is good. Great. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“Except you want to be rid of me.”

He threw his hands into the air. “Of course that’s all you heard.” He was the one who was always in control. He had discipline in every aspect of his life but one. Jaimie. There was no discipline with her. No restraint. He turned into an animal, a jealous, primitive beast he barely recognized. Was he supposed to be proud of that?

Just looking at her with her silky curls tumbling in disarray around her face, that mouth that was every man’s fantasy, he closed his eyes, remembering how he’d taught her to use it for his pleasure. He’d taught her—everything. And Jaimie always gave herself to him without reservation. He’d been older, her protector. He knew she was smarter, but he could keep up with her intellectually and provide the stimulus she needed for her mind. The rest, well, frankly, he was the dominate one.

He’d always had the upper hand in their relationship. He’d always known he could walk away from her and be just fine. Until she’d left him. He realized how much he actually managed to fool himself. Jaimie’s hold on him was impossible to break. He thought he owned her but it was the other way around. Hell, yeah, he resented it. What man wouldn’t? No other woman would do for him.

No one had touched her before him. Two long years. He saw the way Spagnola had looked at her. Had Spagnola touched her? He couldn’t ask. Didn’t want to know. He was afraid of what he might do to the other man. Mack rubbed his pounding temples. What the hell was wrong with him? Hell, yeah, he resented that she could make him this crazy.

Jaimie shook her head. “We’re back to exactly the same place we were before I left. You were fine there, Mack, but I wasn’t. I don’t want to base my entire relationship on sex. You can have sex with anyone. Women fall all over you.”

“We don’t just have sex, honey; we have spectacular sex. Come on, you have to admit, no one can do what I can to you—with you.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know that.”

He went very still. Inside, something dark and dangerous moved, coiled and ready to strike. Every vestige of amusement was wiped from his face. He looked what he was, lethal and frightening as he stepped very close to her. “We have an understanding, Jaimie.” His voice had gone very quiet again. Violence rode him hard. Aggression. All the characteristics that made him great at hunting prey stared out at her through his eyes, and he let it.

“Do we?” She stared right back, not wilting like the Jaimie of old.

He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and drew her to him. “Don’t fuck with me about this. We’re going to make it work.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you don’t have one romantic bone in your body?”

His gut knotted, hard, brutal twisting lumps of fear. “Is that what you need to be happy with me, Jaimie? Pretty words?”

Jaimie studied his face. His expression was a mask. Unreadable. But he was holding his breath. Actually holding his breath. If she didn’t answer him soon, he was going to turn blue.

“I’d like you to say how you feel about me now and then, Mack. A relationship can only work so long built on sex. What happens if we can’t have sex? Is it over for us? Do you just move on?”

He scowled at her. “How shallow do you think I am?”

“I’m looking for a partnership.”

“You had that.”

“Did I? You didn’t listen to a word I said, Mack. You’ve always led and I followed, but not blindly. I went with you because you made sense. When you didn’t, when we were walking into something dangerous, I expected you to talk it over with me first, to at least listen to what I had to say.” She sat on the edge of the desk, barefoot, inhaling the scent of sex and his skin. She loved the way he smelled. Masculine and edgy, usually combined with sex.

She’d missed him. Missed everything about him. Especially the sex. And yet, their sex together, as great as it had been, had never been close to what he’d just given her. She’d missed that look in his eyes just before he kissed her. He was incredibly strong, but he’d never once hurt her, not even when they were making wild love and he seemed ruthless and out of control. His touch with her was gentle. She loved that about him, his care of her. Was she just wanting too much? Did she need too much?

Mack stepped into her, reaching for her thighs as if he owned her. As if he knew his touch made her weak. He spread her thighs and moved between her legs. Up close. He loomed over the top of her, making her feel small and vulnerable and fragile. She knew she wasn’t, but he still made her feel that way. She’d always loved him. Now she couldn’t look at him without craving him. She could taste him in her mouth, breathe him in her lungs.

“Mack.” She whispered his name. A plea.

“I’m not letting you go, Jaimie. We’ll work it out. Whatever you need. I’ll figure it out. Just cut me a little slack. I’m never going to get over you walking out on me. You shook me up and I’m still dealing with it.”

“Anger.”

“Damn right.” He curled his fingers around the nape of her neck and pressed his forehead to hers. “Damn right I’m angry.” The words hissed out between his teeth. “I think of you with other men. I obsess about it. Your mouth on someone else. Someone else inside of you.” He took a breath like a man drowning. “You’re part of me. Bone deep, Jaimie. You can’t just think you can walk out and it’s going to be okay. You could have come back anytime, but you didn’t. I thought . . .”