Havoc by Shannon McKenna

11

Cait held on to the sink. She had that dazzled, terrified look in her eyes, like she just discovered something shocking about herself.

Which she had. The wild, untamed depths inside her. Who knew?

The whole world was bigger and wider than she’d ever known. And so was she, herself. This quest was taking her to places she’d never bargained on, and wasn’t prepared for. Things she didn’t know how to deal with. Like Mace Trask. And her craving for him.

Finally, she got it. Why women she knew were willing to literally hurt themselves and others, just to get some sex. It had never made all that much sense to her before.

She got it now, but damn. She might have been better off never knowing.

She brushed her teeth, and examined her face critically. All those dings and bruises were not a great look. She hoped they healed fast. She wanted to look pretty for him.

A splash of cold water to her face, and she got into the shower, freshening up her lady bits with the detachable showerhead. They were hyper-sensitized, tingling with arousal. Sudsing up and rinsing with warm water practically made her come again.

She needed to calm…the fuck…down. Maybe there was a psychological explanation for this disproportional intensity. Maybe it was a direct result of extreme adrenaline, stress.

Or maybe—and this was the scariest possibility—maybe her life had just been saved by a genuinely awesome guy. Gorgeous, smart, selfless, a god in bed. The laws of natural selection had hardwired her to fall for him instantly. Who could blame her? The crafty cavewoman deep in her DNA knew that a strong, smart man who could fight bad guys like a demon from hell, and who had a nice, thick dick to go with it, was a perfect candidate to pass on good genes to her progeny. And also, incidentally, to protect them from the dire wolves and the cave lions.

But she wasn’t in the market for a caveman mate. She was on a mission to find out what happened to Dad. Totally different thing.

She toweled off, finger-combed her hair, and studied the angry cut on the side of her lower lip. Crazy, that she wasn’t worrying about being kidnapped or killed. She was fantasizing about slicking on some cherry lip gloss, to drive her new fella wild with desire.

Damn, girl. Grow up. Pay attention.

The lamp was very dim, which was good. She was feeling self-conscious, parading around naked in front of him. But Mace’s eyes glittered with hot approval.

“I knew you’d be gorgeous naked, even when you were all padded up with fleece and Gore Tex,” he said. “But nothing could prepare me for the mind-blowing reality.”

“So gallant,” she murmured. “You’re sweet.”

She made no move to come closer, so Mace sat up, his eyes narrowing. “Are you already getting nervous?”

“I guess I am,” she admitted. “It’s a lot, coming at me really fast.”

There was a careful pause. “I followed your lead,” he said.

“Oh, God, yes,” she said quickly. “You were spectacular. I dragged you into this with a tow chain. Don’t be nervous on that account. By no means.”

“Okay, that’s good to know.” He lifted up the covers, scooting over. “I kept it warm for you,” he said. “Come back in and cuddle.”

She laughed at him as she sat down on the bed, but out of nowhere, the laughter morphed into tears. Shit-shit-shit. She didn’t want to wreck this. She’d just discovered it.

Mace sat up, alarmed. “Oh, Cait. Hey. Babe.”

“Don’t.” She kept her face turned away. “Please, just ignore me. Give me a second to wrangle it down.”

“Don’t wrangle it down.” Mace slid out of the bed and came around to kneel down in front of her knees. She shook her head, covering her face with her hands.

Mace scooted up between her legs, sliding his arms around her waist and pressing his face to her belly. His breath was warm, his lips soft, kissing her as he stroked her back.

Cait draped herself over his big shoulders. His patience was the final straw. She melted down, the emotions tearing through her in a long, thundering rush.

When it finally eased down, she discovered a new problem. She couldn’t lift her hands from her face. They were too goopy. Damn.

As usual, Mace was three steps ahead of her. He pushed a wad of tissues into her hand. Oh, that guy. She blew her nose for a long time. It took a lot of tissue.

When she opened her wet eyes, she found Mace holding up a plastic trash basket.

She tossed her snot-rags, with murmured thanks.

“Hope that made you feel better,” he said.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she said. “Twice today. I almost never cry, not even when people think that I should. I don’t know how to handle it when it happens to me.”

“Are you kidding? Give yourself a break. It’s been a weird day. You’re tough as nails.”

She sniffed. “The day was weird for you, too, and I don’t see you blubbering.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well. I’m a special case.”

“Are you? Special how?” She waited a moment, and amended her question. “For real. I’m not being snotty or snarky. I’m genuinely curious. Why do you say that?”

Mace looked like he regretted opening that door. “Just that I’m fire-hardened,” he said. “Way beyond normal. My brothers and I were trained to be GodsAcre’s shock troops. After the fire, we went to high school, which was fucked up in a totally different way. Then came the Marines, and Force Recon, which ended when I got gut-shot. And then Trask Executive Solutions, which has seen a lot of pretty intense combat as well. My life has had a very intense curriculum, but processing emotions was not on it. So when it comes to blocked, I think I got you beat, hands down.”

She choked off her laughter for fear it would become tears again. “You don’t seem blocked to me,” she said. “Blocked people are stiff. Boring. That’s not you.”

“You, either. You’re a woman on the warpath. Lit up with the holy spirit. Driven by passion.” He paused, thoughtfully. “Driven into some really dangerous places.”

She snorted. “You’re a fine one to talk. You’ve been stalking Kimball for months, haven’t you? Wouldn’t you call that dangerous?”

“It got a hell of a lot more dangerous today.” He slid his hand up between her legs, stroking her labia with a teasing finger. “But we’re not supposed to think about him, right? I want to taste you. Suck your clit. Tongue-fuck you until you come all over my face.”

His words brought the images to life. Just the right mix of gallantry, tenderness, patience, and dirty-minded, ravenous lust, calculated to make her legs fall open.

He stroked her, opening her folds, exploring, caressing. Dipping into that well of heat, spreading slick moisture around. He leaned forward, and put his mouth to her.

He was passionately enthusiastic. Plunging his tongue inside, gliding tenderly up and down and around every fold, flicking deftly over her clit. Swirling around it, sucking it in, dragging her higher, right up to that wild, desperate edge—and then over it.

Into boundless space. Soaring, limitless, lost…and then, miraculously…found.

She was flooded with feelings. When she finally opened her eyes, still panting, he kissed her belly. “Can’t get enough of it,” he said.

She tried to speak. Took a deep breath. “Glad to hear it,” she croaked. She peeked down at his huge erection. “So are you going to give me some of that, or what?”

“If you’re tired, there’s no pressure.”

She dug her fingernails into his thick-muscled shoulders. “You’re very skilled at applying just the right kind of pressure.”

Mace needed no more encouragement. He took his cock in hand, and caressed her with it. She scooted backwards on the bed, pulling him after her, and propped herself up on her elbow to watch. It would be a shame to miss an instant of that spectacle.

Mace ran his hands from her mound up to her breast with a reverent hand. “I wish I had mirrors everywhere,” he said. “I want to watch this from every angle at once.”

She arched and moaned as he nudged his penis slowly deeper and deeper inside, then scooped up her legs, bracing her feet against his chest. He settled into a slow, pumping rhythm, caressing her clit expertly with his thumb as he moved inside her.

She wound her fingers into the sheets, and rocked up to meet him, abandoning herself to the deep, slick strokes of his thick cock. Every thrust was a fresh lick of delight. Her body was primed for pleasure, the tension overtaking her in a huge, sensual wave of feeling, swelling into something huge—until the wave broke, rushing through her.

It swept everything away with it. Leaving her clean and soft and new.

He did that several times. She would drift back, and find him patiently waiting, staring down at her, with those intense, fascinated eyes. Still inside her, still hard.

Then he would start moving again, rocking, swiveling. Working her into a new frenzy. She lost count how many times her body crested. She was liquid, floating.

Finally, she wrapped her legs around his waist and dragging him closer.

“You come now,” she said. “I want to watch while you do it. Please.”

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, urging him on. It got faster, more urgent. His face was a mask of tension. His deep, slamming thrusts were perfect. Everything she craved, and so was the strangled shout, the explosion blasting through them.

She was as limp as a ragdoll when he pulled himself out of her. He tugged her into his arms, covering her up, and nuzzling her neck. “You okay?”

“Fabulously destroyed,” she whispered. “My brain is soup.”

“That’s good, I guess.” He kissed her shoulder, licked it.

Cait tossed off the blanket, and got up, and Mace jerked up. “What’s up?”

“Just running to the bathroom,” she said. “I don’t like to sleep on a wet spot.”

“I’ll sleep on the wet spot,” he offered promptly.

“Thank you, you’re truly adorable, and that is the mark of a real man. But I don’t like to be a wet spot, either. I’m fussy that way. Don’t take it personally.”

His teeth flashed in the gloom. “Uh-oh. You’re in trouble now, beautiful. Since my life goals as of now consist of getting and keeping you sopping wet.”

Cait was laughing when she stepped into the bathtub. It occurred to her, as she washed up, that she was actually having…damn.

This could only be described as…well…fun.

After flesh creeping revelations and a terrifying attack, here she was. Bare naked. Snorting, giggling, simpering. Having honest-to-God fun, with a sexy, playful guy.

Kinky stuff.