Havoc by Shannon McKenna

17

Mace felt as shy and awkward as a teenager asking a girl to dance. Not that he’d ever really experienced that. There had been no dancing at the GodsAcre, certainly not on that bad last year when things got apocalyptic.

And after the fire, well. That had been a long, dark tunnel of the soul, best not thought of at all. He had considered desperate things, to escape from how he felt, but he’d never tried to follow through. He couldn’t do that to his big brothers. Or Otis.

Eventually, he’d gotten to the other end of that dark tunnel. He’d even survived Shaw’s Crossing, somehow, and high school. He’d joined the Marines. Otis’s suggestion.

Not that there was anything else he was fit to do, after Jeremiah’s intensive training. He didn’t have Anton and Eric’s crazy, quirky gifts. Just the skills he’d learned up at GodsAcre. Warcraft was the only thing he was extremely good at.

He let Cait into his quiet, empty apartment, locked the door and turned to her.

“Thanks, for that,” she said.

“For what?” he asked. “You’re the one who’s helping me. You finally brought that bastard’s agenda into focus. We know the stakes. And with your tracer, we can finally make a move. Actually thwart that motherfucker. Maybe draw him out. That’s progress.”

“That’s what I’m thanking you for. I’ve been doing this alone for so long.”

“You’re good with my family,” Mace told her. “They respect you. And like you.”

Her smile made his chest tighten. “I like them, too.”

He loved the elegant shape of her luscious lips, curling up with the corners. Those tiny dimples, and the deeper ones in the middle of her cheeks. “It’s no small thing, getting approval from them,” he told her. “They’re a strange bunch.”

“Do they usually disapprove of your girlfriends?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever introduced anyone to them. To be honest, I’ve never really done the girlfriend thing. My life didn’t have space for that.”

“Never? She laughed. “Really? Come on. Squeeze your memory.”

“Really,” he said. “I’ve been on the move, mostly. First with the Marines, then Force Recon, then with Trask Executive Solutions. My brothers and I got out of Shaw’s Crossing as soon as we could. Eric got into trouble here with Demi’s dad. It almost got him killed, or sent to prison. Both options were on the table. He ended up in the Bay Area. Anton traveled the world as a DJ, and then opened his nightclubs. And when I came home to visit Otis, I came alone. I didn’t want that damn curse to land on anyone else’s head.”

“I see.”

“Then there was GodsAcre,” he went on. “The cult, the violence, the fire. It’s all so fucking extreme. Who wants to lay bad cards like that on the table? So I never did.”

“And then I showed up in your cave,” she said.

“You cut through a lot of red tape for me, all at once. Chop-chop.”

Cait hung the coat Fiona lent her onto the hook. “So you’re hard to get close to.”

“Not for you,” he said. “You were already inside my defenses when I met you.”

Cait pried off her sneakers, arranging them next to her muddy hiking boots. “It’s a good place to be,” she said. “Stimulating. Exciting. You’re a good guy.”

“Good guy?” He laughed under his breath as he kicked off his shoes. “No one’s ever accused me of that before.”

“Well, I hereby lodge a formal accusation. You’re a very good guy. And if you hadn’t run into me up at GodsAcre, I’d be dead. Or wishing that I was.”

He couldn’t argue with that stark assessment. “I’m glad you’re not.”

“Me, too. I’ve never felt more glad to be alive than I feel in this moment.” She whipped her shirt off.

Mace gulped. She was so damn gorgeous. Her strong shoulders and toned arms and glowing, even-toned gold-brown skin, set off by the contrast with a white sports bra, which showed lots of shadowy cleavage. She reached down, that wild sorceress glow in her eyes, popping open the top button of her jeans. The next one, then the next.

“You are spectacular, Cait,” he said thickly.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You make me feel that way. And I think the same. I love your body.” She shimmied out of her jeans, stepping out of them. “In case you were wondering, that was a blatant invitation to let me see more of it.”

Mace cleared his throat. “Uh, hell, yes.” He whipped his shirt off, pulling off his pendant with it, and laid it on the kitchen counter.

Cait sighed in pleasure. “That’s better,” she murmured.

“Just so you know,” he said. “I let you take the lead, because that’s just how I roll. I’m huge, and I don’t want to scare anybody. But it’s not from reluctance on my part. I’m dying to rip off your clothes and lick you until you’re soaking wet and moaning. And then fuck you hard every which way. If I ever hold back, it’s not from lack of lust.”

“I feel the lust coming off you like steam,” Cait assured him. “And I like you big. But I appreciate your restraint. You’re a true gentleman.”

“Hardly,” he scoffed.

“You are,” she insisted. “In the marrow of your bones. You’ve got this idea that you’re a rebel and a bad boy, maybe because you’re the baby of the family. So it was your job to be the clown. No one else had the nerve. That takes courage.”

He was perplexed by that. “Uh…I never thought of it that way.”

“You’re an old style hero,” Cait mused. “Brave, valiant, heroic.”

“Horny,” he added hopefully.

“Oh God, I hope so. Just so you know…I’m not delicate. Or easily intimidated.”

“I noticed. Thank God.”

Cait reached back, arching her chest as she unfastened the clasp of her bra. Then she tossed it toward her suitcase. “I think I’d like being licked all over and then fucked hard every which way,” she murmured. “Mmm. Big words, my man. Big words.”

“I’m good for them,” he assured her.

“Yeah?” She shucked her white panties, tossed them aside, and posed. Stark naked. Tossing her hair, lifting it up with her arms as she did a slow, sexy pirouette, showing off her ass for him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Mace jerked his belt loose, shoved his jeans and underwear down. Shook them off his legs. His raging erection strained toward her.

Cait stepped closer, taking his dick in her smooth, cool hand. Stroking and…oh God…squeezing. A long, slow, sexy pull. “You know, Mace. If you had a dining room table, you could lay me down and fuck me on it.”

“You really know how to incentivize a guy to purchase home furnishings.”

“One must try to use one’s power for good.” She cupped his balls in her hand.

“We have the couch,” he pointed out.

“True enough,” she said. “The couch has possibilities.”

“Right,” he repeated, his voice strangled. “Oh God, that feels good. Can I?”

“Anything you want.”

He took her at her word, touching her everywhere. Her breasts, her belly, her back. The luscious fullness of her ass. Her hands tightened on his cock as he slid his hands between her legs, exploring that swatch of silky fuzz, and then the tender slick inside bits, already hot and slippery. He was so excited, he was shaking.

He pulled her hands away and sank to his knees to make sure she was prepared. He was famished for more of that sweet taste. Warm sexy musk, the salty-sweet flavor of her liquid core. One of these days, he wanted a lazy morning with sunlight spilling in, to study all the colors of her pussy with full light. A room service breakfast tray right near the bed. Whipped cream, Hollandaise sauce. Things that would be fun to lick off of her. Hours, spent lazily worshipping her sweet girl parts with his tongue.

Soon she was sopping wet and whimpering. He had to get her off before he got inside her. It was a good, solid rule. One that would keep things juicy and equitable.

She got off so soon. He held her steady, and savored the shuddering bursts against his face. Lapping it all up. So bright, so hot.

She clutched his shoulders as he rubbed his face against her belly, kissing his way back up. Lingering against her nipples, then her throat.

“So,” he said. “You were mentioning the couch. Care to elaborate?”

She giggled. “Good idea. After that, I need the support. My legs are wobbly.”

He swept her up, and carried her over to the couch. When he set her on her feet, Cait gave him a flirtatious look from under her lashes, and turned, leaning over the back of the couch. Ass thrust out, breasts propped up. Legs spread wide. That wild, provocative look in her eyes that said, your move.

He positioned himself behind her, stroking his cockhead up and down her pussy lips. Sliding and retreating, caressing that slick seam until his cockhead was gleaming. He gripped himself at the base, pushing against the exquisite resistance of her body.

It was so good, when he penetrated her tight clasp. Naked, skin to skin. So hot. Ultimate pleasure, sinking his cock deep in her snug, perfect hole.

He gripped her ass and settled into a deep, pumping rhythm. Sliding, swiveling. Aiming for sweet, hot spots inside that made her tremble and moan.

He could have done this forever, but it was getting slicker, faster. She shoved back against him. The couch bumped and rattled. There was just enough light to see the gleam of lube she left on his stiff, aching cock with each deep stroke. Plunging, retreating.

The universe was shaking into pieces.

Not…quite…yet.

He worked her clit with his fingertips from the front, pulsing and circling, and she crested. The deep, rhythmic clutches of her pussy around him dragged him along with her.

Pleasure burst through him. Raging wild-water, sweeping them away.

After, he wanted to lick the salt off her dewy skin, and then make her sweat again.

She giggled as he licked her back. “That tickles,” she murmured

“You taste so good. How do you feel?”

“Boneless,” she whispered. “That was intense.”

“You sound surprised,” he said.

“I guess I am surprised,” she admitted. “I’ve had a few relationships, but there always seem to be more cons than pros, and the cons just drag me down. Same with sex. Always problems, always issues. I’ve never had anything like this happen.”

“What do you mean, ‘this’?”

“Fishing for compliments again?”

“No, just trying to see it from your point of view.”

“It’s just, like something takes me over. Something desperate. I ache and squirm, like I’m going nuts, and I come like the whole world shatters. It almost scares me.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re so tough, and smart. I go for that. Watching you being a kick-ass egghead scientist makes me hot.”

She giggled. “Watching me geek out on data gives you a boner?”

“Even thinking about it does. Take a look.”

Her eyes dropped to his rapidly stiffening cock, and she murmured appreciatively. “How gratifying,” she said. “So soon?”

“I’ll wrestle it down. Don’t pay it any mind.”

“Puh-leeze. Waste not, want not, that’s my motto.”

“You’re not tired?”

“Well, I want a shower,” she said. “And this morning, we talked about showering together. You and me. Hot pounding water. Slippery soap. You like?”

His cock jerked enthusiastically, speaking for him.

She took his hand, tugging him toward the bathroom.

The shower stall was going to be tight, big as he was. He aimed the hot spray at the wall for a minute. “I don’t want your back to get cold,” he said.

“How thoughtful of you.”

She let the water soak her curls, beading her bruised, beautiful face. Trickling down over her luscious tits. He hoped she wouldn’t be oppressed by his size, hogging all the water, blocking the light, breathing up all the air.

And then he forgot the space and just lost his mind, touching her. Kissing her. Every point of contact was delicious, electric. She wrapped her strong legs around his waist, and he pinned her to the wall, sinking his cock into her slick depths.

This time it was wild, urgent. Something about the water, the bite of her nails in his shoulders. Wild, slick, desperate fucking, driving them into a mind-wiping cataclysm.

After, they gazed at each other, still locked together. She had that dazzled, almost frightened look on her beautiful face. That look was reflected in his own. The vulnerability, like a feedback loop of terrifying intensity. This thing was getting more dangerous every time they touched each other. He’d never imagined intimacy like this. Someone’s naked soul, shining into his face like the sun. Too bright to bear.

He slid his cock out of her and set her gently on her feet. “We should get some sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

She broke eye contact. “Of course.”

They toweled off silently, not looking at each other. Mace walked out first. The bed was still rumpled from last night’s exploits, so he straightened up the comforter.

Cait emerged from the bathroom finger-combing her ringlets. “I see you don’t have a clock,” she said. “I could set the alarm on my smartphone.”

“No need,” he told her.

“But we need to be up at ass-crack-thirty, right?”

“At ass-crack-thirty, I’ve already been awake for an hour. I always wake up before dawn. GodsAcre forged me that way. Don’t sweat it. I’ll wake you up.”

“Well, okay, then. I’ll just get my pajamas.”

“Seems like a shame,” he said. “I love feeling your bare skin. I won’t jump you, I promise. It’s just nice, the way your silky skin feels against mine.”

Her eyes glowed. “Okay,” she said.

The feeling that came over him, when she slid her soft, fragrant body into his arms, was incredible. His dick went predictably nuts, of course, but he ignored it. It wasn’t about that. It went beyond that. So sweet, so fragrant. Damp, scented ringlets tickled his nose.

It made something expand in his chest, big and huge and hot. It could keep growing forever. But he didn’t dare give that feeling a name. That would be stupid and premature. He’d freak her out if he got too intense. With his weird past, his many issues, his multiple scars, physical and emotional, none of which he’d ever been particularly interested in examining before. It was a bit late to start doing that salvage work now.

He’d just have to wing it. Cross his fingers and hope.