Bad Boy's Revenge: A Small-Town Romantic Suspense (17 page)

I shook as his finger prodded my entrance, plunging inside.

My body tensed.

Ached.

Arched.

And he pulled completely away.

“
Maddox
.”

“Say it, Sweets.”

“But—”

His words broke with licks and laps of my slit, each spoken syllable an opportunity for my body to tense even more.

“
You love me
. Say it. Let me hear it.”

Goddamn it. I bucked my hips. Got too close and only ached more. He wanted me to confess it. I wouldn’t, but if I closed my eyes and concentrated I could just nudge my slit against his lips—

His hand slapped my ass again. “No.”

Maddox tossed me from his body. I landed on my stomach with a heavy sigh and agonizing groan. How could I be pained for something so pleasurable? My chest fluttered, and my heart pounded so loudly he’d never hear my admission over the frustrated beat.

It didn’t matter. He was just as close.

And I was in trouble.

I never denied this man so much before. I never challenged him, never demanded anything beyond a simple smile. He pushed me onto my hands and knees to stare at curves leading to a deliciously tormented part of me.

He didn’t speak. Maddox crushed me from behind, grasping my hips and slamming his cock into my pussy as though he feared he’d never again find that perfect peace inside me.

But it wasn’t peace. This was war. I surrendered my body as his cock pierced inside, stretching and taking all of me. I gasped. He offered no moment of rest or preparation before the entirety of his bare shaft conquered every inch of me.

And I was full. Complete. Absolutely stuffed with the only man I ever wanted to feel so deep inside me. He was rough, but I didn’t care how he took me. I had to force that huge, throbbing cock fill me until I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of
anything
but the man I loved.

But this was different. Something changed in him. One arm looped under my waist, forcing me to rise to my knees. His second arm cradled my neck. He pinned me in place with an unyielding elbow.

Then he fucked me.

Rutted me.

Absolutely delighted me.

I clung to the arm around my throat. Each thrust of his cock propelled me forward, nearly choking me against the muscle, tattoos, and scars of his arm. He grunted with every powerful slam of his hips, and I had no balance to protect myself from his demands. Maddox supported me and kept me upright if only to take me harder.

Neither of us would last. I gasped, clawing at his arm as every drive punished me with more and more pleasure and absolutely no way to prevent the release.

It was too much. My core melted. My mind followed. My body shattered like sugar candy and the rest of me turned sticky with sweet sweat. Wetness poured from my slit, and the slapping of our bodies sounded vulgar. I begged through the gasped breaths not lost as his grip tightened over my neck.

“Maddox—” His name tumbled from my lips, stolen with every sharp and punishing thrust of his cock. “
Please
.”

“Say it!”

Why was he torturing me?

Why not confront the truth?

I loved this man more than anything else in the world. I’d damn the consequences and let him stay at my side. If Nolan threatened him, I’d protect him. I’d keep Maddox safe because I couldn’t live without him again.

His cock sliced through me. Once. Twice.

And I was gone.

“
Maddox
!” I gasped, hard, shuddering his name in a panted whisper. “I love you!”

“Fuck, I love you too, Sweets.”

We rocked together, collapsing onto the bed as the weight of our words and the pleasure of our touch might had shattered our bones and minds. I twisted, fighting him, not knowing why. My body demanded more, and I bucked and arched to fill myself with his punishing length.

He loved me.

God, that was better than any orgasm, even one that stole my breath and rendered me into fragile shards of reason, sanity, and responsibility. His heat flooded inside me, and I welcomed that feeling once again—warm, safe, and loved.

Maddox whispered incoherent promises to protect me from threats that had yet to come and vows we hadn’t murmured in a year. My breathing shuddered, and I laid still, just holding onto a man more shadow than real.

I shouldn’t have welcomed him back, but a life without him wasn’t worth protecting.

If Nolan wanted to hurt him, he’d have to fight me first.

And I was sure I’d regret that challenge.

***

I woke in the middle of the night. I checked the time. Groaned. I had work in the morning, and I wasn’t about to make a walk of shame to my apartment after all eyes had been on me at the meeting.

I shifted from his arms. Maddox stirred, but he was always a heavy sleeper. I cleaned up in the bathroom and tossed on my clothes without waking him. At least no one would see me at two in the morning, despite the thirteen missed calls from random townspeople after the meeting.

The voicemails kept me company during my walk home, but the light cast by the phone was more of a comfort. Whether it was the darkness, the stillness, or the paranoid prickle on my neck, something felt wrong about my walk. I stilled on the steps before my apartment door.

The door wasn’t shut all the way.

…But Maddox had me lock it before I left.

Did someone break in?

I swallowed, pushing the door open and glancing inside. I heard nothing. Was that good or bad?

My finger poised over the speed dial for Maddox, and I slipped inside, flipping on a light and expecting a masked murderer, a creepy little ghost child, or worse of all—Nolan.

No one waited inside. Everything was still. Untouched.

The hairs on my arms rose. Just enough was out of place. The rug kicked up by the door. My magazines scattered in the wrong order on counter. The sink was wet, like someone ran water. They even stole a chocolate chip cookie.

I crossed to the dining room table and gasped.

A Zippo lighter stood on its edge, left as a message for me.

Someone had been in my apartment.

And, next time they visited, they’d burn it to the ground.

Chapter Twelve – Maddox

“It’s an easy job.” Nolan waved the envelope in front of my face, like I was a dog chasing a steak. “Believe it or not, you’re the only one I trust to do it.”

“Bullshit.”

I popped the collar on my jacket. Didn’t matter. This time of night, everything was cold. That uncomfortable clammy after midnight when only these type of deals were struck. I worried our conversation echoed over the town. It didn’t. Nolan parked on the quiet edge of Highland Street and leaned out of the SUV’s window. He gave me the plans.

“You’re a good electrician. My family’s barn has lights with bad wiring. Need you to fix it.”

“You joking?”

“Even you could use an honest day’s work.”

Neither of us ever worked an honest day in our lives. I sneered. “I’m not electrocuting myself on your property for Matthias’s wages.”

Nolan snorted. “Of course not. That old man would’ve gone broke without Josie’s candy shop fronting him money for tools. I’ll pay you what I’d give for your…other jobs. For the discretion.”

“You’re afraid to be seen with me doing electrical work?”

“I’m running an election campaign. Can’t have felons working on my property.”

“Right.”

“You better keep this quiet. Don’t tell Josie.”

Like I’d be stupid enough to tell her. I gritted my teeth and took the money. “When do I start?”

“Sooner the better.”

This was a mistake, but at least I’d have a couple grand for whatever expenses came up. Money for a new pair of jeans. Court fees. A pizza and movie for Josie.

I’d stuff the remainder in Chief Craig’s pocket to stay the fuck away from my sister.

The more things changed, the more they had tendency to screw you over. I was gone a year and everything was still fucked up. Chelsea got lucky I was out of prison and could save her ass, though Christ only knew how long it’d last. I couldn’t support both my sister and Josie. I didn’t need to eat, but they did.

Josie worked four days a week at the Saint Christie Reporter, organizing her superiors’ desks because she had no other duties. She didn’t belong at the newspaper. She should have been in her kitchen; making cupcakes and covering herself head to toe in flour. I’d make it happen for her, as soon as I found the arsonist responsible for the fire.

Until then, I’d earn whatever money I could to help her and keep my sister out of trouble.

The Rhys family owned a farm five miles outside of town. Nolan went into law, but he kept the land. Only reason I knew or cared was because Chelsea had always liked the house. She used to talk about working a farm with a family, everyone helping out and depending on each other for a better life. I hated to remind her, but we did work together when we were kids. We sold what Dad told us to sell on the same corner. I got the black eyes when the deals went bad. Chelsea got it worse.

I did the job for Nolan and got out as quick as I could while still doing the quality of work that would have made Matthias proud. Never thought I’d actually like a trade. I wasn’t the best with customers, and I dropped out of high school in the tenth grade. But the job was a challenge and kept me busy. I liked that, and I liked even more that it was a respectable living. Something I could use to support Josie and the family I was determined to make with her.

But I was an idiot.

No honest jobs existed—just opportunities to take what you needed to get taken by those making a profit from you. Nolan’s profit wasn’t money. He’d pay for one pound of Josie’s flesh at a time.

I woke the next morning at six. Some jackass pounded against Josie’s door.

I didn’t like rude awakenings, and I liked even less that they scared the piss out of Josie. She peeked out a window and frowned. I warned her not to open the door, but she didn’t listen.

Damn innocent girl. She let the monster into her home.

“Chief Craig?” Josie hadn’t worn anything to bed last night. My orders. She struggled to bind her robe before she flashed those perfect curves to a man sleazy enough to look. “Is everything okay?”

The chief stared past her. He sneered at me. “Sorry, Josie. It’s not.”

She panicked, and her nails scratched the door. “Is it Granddad?”

“No, no. Matt’s fine, but…”

Fucker. I recognized his grin. Hard to forget a punchable face. I pulled my shirt off the couch and tugged it over my head.

Josie wasn’t gonna like this.

“Mr. Maddox has to come with me,” Chief Craig said. “I got some questions for him.”

Josie hadn’t heard that phrase for a year. Her eyes closed, and she opened the door wider. Her glance to me was as subtle as a kick to the nuts.

“Seriously?” She wasn’t even mad, just exasperated. “What happened?”

“We’ll talk at the station.” Chief Craig acted friendly, but I knew he couldn’t wait for the handcuffs. Maybe if I went willingly, he wouldn’t humiliate me in front of Josie. “You better come with me, son.”

“Sure,” I said. “Got my lawyer on speed dial.”

That was a lie. I didn’t have the money for an attorney, not when I shoved every spare dollar I had into the chief’s pocket like some rented whore.

Like how he treated my sister.

“I’ll be back.” I didn’t want Josie following, but she was already rushing to the bedroom to get dressed. “Don’t worry.”

She didn’t answer. Probably deserved that even though I didn’t know why the fuck the chief was hauling me into the station. For the first time, I was actually behaving.

I should have suspected it. Nolan Rhys met us at the station.

That son of a bitch faked a scowl when he saw me. No sense hiding it—he loved watching me get frisked and handcuffed. Bastard wanted a cavity search too, but Saint Christie wasn’t exactly the NYPD. Chief Craig forced me in the chair next to his lieutenant’s desk. He offered me coffee, but I was their guest enough times to know better. The grounds they had in the machine were probably the same ones from a year ago, last time they held me in a cell.

“You can save us some time here, Maddox.” Chief Craig shuffled the paperwork for the booking. He studied me over his reading glasses. “We found the campaign signs. We know what happened. Let’s get this over with so Josie doesn’t have to watch me fingerprint you.”

“You don’t have those on file?” I asked.

“You burned your hand in the fire,” he said. “Can’t be too careful now, can we? Especially when it comes to men on parole.”

What the hell was he talking about? I ignored the chill on my spine. “Wouldn’t want to hamper your investigation.”

Nolan adjusted his tie. “I told you we could resolve this quickly and quietly.”

I snorted. “Gonna tell me what I did?”

“A confession would save us time,” Nolan said.

“Right. But that would ruin your fun.” I shrugged. “This is your moment of glory, Rhys. You get to play victim, prosecutor, judge, and executioner.”

“If only. What do you have to say for yourself?”

A lot of things I prepared to slur at his feet, but not once the front door swung open and Josie hurried inside. She tossed her curls in a headband, but she forgot to match the orange material to her vibrant pink yoga pants. Chief Craig tried to keep her away, but she prepared for war. She slammed a newspaper onto the lieutenant’s desk and stared only at Nolan.

“Imagine my surprise when Sean calls me—not because he wanted to offer me some hours to help with this afternoon’s issue, but because he wanted a
quote
.” She crinkled the front page’s headline. “Your campaign signs were burned
last night, and you think it was
Maddox
?”

Nolan hadn’t expected her attitude, but he never did take the time to know Josie, not when he only wanted the curves hidden in her yoga pants. He smiled, offering her a seat that she immediately refused.

“A majority of my campaign signs were pulled from yards during the night,” he said. “The rest I had stored in my family’s barn. Someone burned the lot of them on the edge of my family’s property.” Nolan sipped the coffee Chief Craig offered, grimaced, and set it down. “I’m not a betting man. I only put my chips down when I’m expecting to win. But…given the circumstances…”