J. Salsbury - Fighting to Forget

“Fuck yeah,” I say against her lips.

Her teeth rake against my tongue and then latch on to my piercing. She pulls against it with possession, an animalistic bite that forces me to pull her back by her hair. She lets go only to tilt her head and devour me deeper. The violence behind the kiss is mind-numbing.

It’s been so long since I’ve kissed a woman like this. Hell, I’ve never kissed a woman like this.

The sound of voices reminds me we’re in Jonah’s hallway and not in the privacy of our own lust-laden room.

I break the kiss but keep my hold on her hair. “Shit, that was hot.” There’s no rush of nausea in my stomach, only the slight quiver of excitement.

“When’s the game over?” she says breathlessly. Her hands slide down from my hair to my chest.

“An hour or so.”

“Can we go out after?”

Her eagerness to pick up where we’ve left off reminds me that I was asking her out on a date before I kissed her into a wall.

I step back and admire how sexy she looks, pinned against the wall, her lips swollen and a brighter shade of red than usual. Her shirt must’ve lifted a little during our rough encounter because a wedge of the porcelain skin of her stomach draws my eyes. I take a moment to let myself imagine what it would be like to run my hands all over that skin. I’d trace the tender flesh of her belly button before shoving my hand down the front of her jeans and—ugh! Revulsion stabs me through the gut. I clench my shirt and swallow back the sour taste in my throat.

“Rex? What’s wrong?” Mac’s voice is heavy either with leftover arousal or concern. Her hand comes down to rest on my arm.

I jerk away from her and step back. Her eyes go wide and she lifts her hands in the universal sign of “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m okay, just a muscle cramp from training today.” I shouldn’t lie, but the truth isn’t happening.

She glares at me, not angry-looking, but more as if she’s studying me.

I release the death grip on my shirt and force a smile. “There. It’s gone.”

Her stare sears through me. “You’re sure?”

“Dude, you missed it.” Caleb is down the hallway headed toward us. “Blake just lost three hundred bucks to Killian.” His eyes move between Mac and me. “What’s going on?” The fuck-you glare he’s aimed at me says he knows exactly what’s going on here.

It doesn’t take a genius to scent the afterburn of the no-holds kiss she and I just shared.

Shit. Caleb was interested in Mac, and now it looks like I just jumped her in the damn hallway. Fuck, I did jump her in the damn hallway.

I try to play it cool, relaxing my shoulders and keeping my expression indifferent. “Nothing. Ran into Mac on my way to hit the john. Started talking about bikes.”

His eyebrows un-pinch and his scowl is wiped clean. He turns toward a now practically hissing Mac. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we’ve talked a few times at The Blackout.” He holds out his hand. “Caleb.”

She turns her glare from me to him, and her face softens. “Mac. And yes, I do remember. Usually a pint of Blue Moon, but on rare occasions a Jack and Coke.”

He laughs, that all-fucking-American boy charm, making Mac smile back.

Fuck.

“Yeah, you remember,” he says. “You and I should go out sometime.”

What. The. Fuck.

Mac’s eyes swing to mine and back to Caleb’s.

A slow smile spreads across his face. “No pressure, babe.”

Babe?

“Just figured it’s only fair, darlin’. I mean you know so much ’bout me; I’d like to return the favor.”

Is it just me, or did his hint of a Southern accent just turn into some full-fledged good-ole-boy shit?

He’s fucking flirting with her. Pain throbs in my jaw and my stomach muscles contract. I was making out with her ten seconds ago, and already I feel some kind of proprietary claim on her. Caleb’s my best friend, but I don’t want his fucking country ass anywhere near Mac. Or his hands and lips. Shit, I’m halfway thinkin’ I’d gouge his eyes out just for looking at her.

Visions of my worst dreams flash behind my eyes. Shame weighs me down like a mudslide over my thoughts and reminds me of what I am.

Perverted. Dirty. Sick—a total contrast to Caleb’s perfect family, ideal upbringing, and southern charm. He’d be able to touch her without getting sick, invite her into his home, his bed. Fuck!

“Dude, you okay?” Caleb’s voice went from sweet to parental, pulling me from my thoughts.

I lift my head not even realizing how far I’d dropped my chin to my chest. “Fine, man.”

He tilts his head, studying me. “You sure? I know you’re dropping weight, but you’re making sure to eat, right?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, I’m surprised he doesn’t sprout damn wings and a halo.

I feel Mac’s eyes on me, but I keep mine on Caleb. “Yeah, I’m good.” I make sure to hold my head high, despite the urge to bow out and leave him and Mac to plan their future together.

He nods, seeming to buy my bullshit, and pulls out his phone. “Mac, go ahead and put in your phone number.” He hands her his phone. “We’ll hook up sometime. I’ll take you out so someone else can bring us beers.”

“Oh, um . . .” I watch in horror as she grabs his cell and hits a few numbers.

It was bad enough when I thought he would be better for her, but she actually likes him? And to hand out her number to my best fucking friend after she had her tongue in my mouth?

With all the women I’ve hooked up with, chicks that would get on their knees to suck me off then move on to the next guy in a matter of minutes, that shit never bothered me before. Why the fuck is it making me damn near violent now?

I don’t deserve her, but I’m selfish. I want her.

“Here ya go.” She hands him back his phone.

Without taking his eyes off her, he shoves his cell into his pocket. “I’ll call you later this week.” He winks—fucking winks—at her and walks away, slapping my shoulder.

I stare down at Mac, who’s staring right back at me. “What the fuck was that?” The words come from behind my still-clenched teeth.

“No clue. Why don’t you tell me?” Her jaw ticks and she’s breathing through her nose. She’s mad at me? Hell no.

“Please.” I motion down the hallway in the direction Caleb left. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“You told him we were talking about bikes.”

“What was I supposed to say? Hey, Caleb, just dry fucking Mac here against a wall. How’s the game?” I don’t want to tell her that Caleb’s interested in her, not that she doesn’t already know that now, but confirming it feels like tapping out before the competition even begins. “Nice to see that the cowboy thing works for you. Next time we hang out, I’ll be sure to wear my chaps.”

Her narrow eyes soften and a slow smile spreads across her face. The look she’s giving is sexy as hell and has me itching to touch her. She leans back against the wall, finding the exact spot I had her pinned earlier almost as if on purpose. “You’re jealous.”

I take a couple steps toward her, close enough that my height and width keep her to the wall, but without touching. “You just gave my best friend your phone number. Not jealous, darlin’. Pissed.”

I thought my jab at her Caleb-issued pet name would ignite a fire behind her eyes and maybe send her away. It’s what I deserve. But instead, she bites her damn lip while staring at mine. My body responds immediately, and it’s all I can do to keep from rubbing up against her.

“Jealous.”

I step closer. “You want me jealous.” It’s not a question; my reaction to her with Caleb is getting her off.

Her eyes flare with the heat of hunger. “I do.”

“Why?”

“Because now you know how it feels.”

“You’re jealous?”

Her confidence slips a fraction, and she flashes a smile that borders on embarrassed. “I have to watch girls throw themselves at you all the time.”

“But . . . you’ve been watching me?”

The whites of her eyes show around their sandy irises and her lips part. She nods, two quick bounces of her head.

“How long?”

“A while.”

Fuck if this little piece of crazy should send me running, but instead it pulls me closer to her like a magnet of instability that anchors us together.

I reach out and slide another long strand of her hair through my fingers, watching the natural waves straighten against my draw and bounce back. “You ready for our date?”

“Yes.” The sound is all breath, and I have to wonder if she’s feeling the same thing I am.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” I grab her hand and drag her down the hallway, the sound of her laughter speeding my steps.

The more I get to know about this girl, the more I feel connected to her in some way. Our nightmares, panic in small spaces, no family, and now the crazy.

She’s not all that different from me. Maybe I don’t have to hide who I am when we’re together.

It makes me wonder what else I’ll learn if I dig a little deeper.

Mac

Rex is dragging me through the expanse of Jonah and Raven Slade’s enormous house, and I’m giggling like a damn teenager. Having him touch me, show interest in me at all, is something I never dreamed would happen. I don’t remember the last time I felt this kind of happiness. No, not happiness—joy.

We move through to the kitchen where Raven is perched on the counter and Layla’s on a barstool and they’re diving into a plate full of nachos.

“Ladies, thanks for the hospitality, but I’m taking Mac out.” He’s smiling one of those smiles that I’ve seen him aim at his friends.

Layla coughs as if she choked on the cheekful of whatever she was eating. Once she catches her breath, her eyes find mine. “No problem. She’d probably have more fun with you anyway. We aren’t getting much done here beyond stuffing ourselves into a food coma.” In the brief moment that Rex turns his head, she winks at me.

When I first met Layla, she’d assumed I had feelings for Rex. At the time, I wasn’t sure if she was interested in him or not, so I did what I do to every girl in the bar who asks me about him. I told her he was taken. It wasn’t completely a lie. I mean he’s not exactly free with all the shit he has to deal with on a daily basis. At least, that’s how I justify it.

“Where are you guys going?” Raven’s gaze moves back and forth between us with concern. She cares about Rex.

This is the closest thing to family he has. I understand their desire to protect him. More than anyone, I understand.

What started as a need to alleviate the guilt turned into an obsession to be near him and, now, an undeniable, unconditional, all-consuming love for him.

My heart leaps in my chest. I’ve always loved Rex. But ever since the night he woke me up from a nightmare, I felt a shift. Like sliding a lock into place, we bonded in that moment. Forever.

“Mac?” Rex’s voice is close to my ear. “Did you hear Layla?”

I look at Layla, whose smile falls when I face her head on. “What?”

She narrows her eyes. “Nothing important. Just . . . call me tomorrow.”

Rex turns to say goodbye to Jonah as he walks into the room, and Layla mouths, “Are you okay?”

A quivering excitement builds in my stomach. I nod and smile so big my teeth get cold.

She points at me hard and mouths, “I knew it.”

We stifle our giggles, and I look over to see Raven smiling, having probably caught on to our semi-silent conversation.

I grab my jacket while Rex makes a quick stop off at the bathroom. After a few more good-byes and a very put-off look from Caleb, we head out to Rex’s truck. He opens the door for me just as he did the first night. He prowls around the front of the truck to the driver’s side, and I keep my eyes on him as he climbs in.

“Where to?” He fires up the truck and looks at me.

His bright blue eyes stand out in contrast to his dark hair, and his skin is the perfect color as if he’s just spent a few days at the beach. Pretty. And just like that the memory of what Rex being so pretty meant for him as a child comes rushing back.