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Give Me Hell (Give Me series Book 4) by Kate McCarthy (29)

 

MAC

 

We stare at each other for a pulse-pounding moment. Then I clear my throat. “Well … Okay then.”

I wince at my response. Really, asshead? Jake says he belongs to you across space and time and you give him an ‘okay then’? Can I be any more emotionally stunted?

Henry’s knock comes at the bathroom door a second time. “Shit,” I mumble.

Jake lets out a deep, weary sigh. Standing off to the side, he says, “Go,” as he opens the door to let me walk through. “But this isn’t over.”

I stride passed him, and because I can never give a single inch, I say coolly, “It never is.”

“Fuck it,” he mutters and in the next second the back of my sleeveless floral blouse is grabbed in a fist and I’m being dragged backward.

Henry, standing with my phone in hand waiting for my direction, stares bewildered as I flail on my heels.

“I’ll be out in a moment,” I tell him in an authoritative tone, ignoring his wide eyes. “Go find out where Quinn is. She and Travis were supposed to be here over an hour ago and—”

Jake slams the door shut in Henry’s face.

“What the hell was that?” I spin to look at him. The hard glare on his face warns me he’s not in the mood to argue. Too bad. “We have an emergency on our hands and you want to play hide and seek inside my brother’s bathroom?”

“I give you the fucking universe,” Jake growls, “and you give me ‘well okay then’?” That was exactly my thinking, but clearly I’m suffering the effects of an emotional overload during the middle of a work crisis.

“I’m sorry,” I bite out, “but I can’t compete with that right now.”

“Compete? This isn’t a damn competition, Mac, but if it was, it’s obvious there’s no winner here. All I see are two losers who can’t get their shit together.”

“Speak for yourself,” I retort.

Jake is fed up. He grabs the front of my blouse and shoves me around until my backside hits the bathroom counter. “I spilled my fucking heart out to you, you cold-hearted bitch.”

I jab a finger in his face. “Don’t you ever call me a bitch.”

His brown eyes narrow. “Bitch, bitch, bitch.”

My slap is a loud crack in the room.

Jake’s head slams sideways from the blow. He stands there for a moment, breathing heavy, shoulders tense. He’s struggling for control. Fuck that. Jake is always on at me to let go. Let’s see what happens when he does.

I bare my teeth. “Fuck you.”

“No,” Jake replies, his tone harder than steel. “Fuck you.

He reaches for my pants. Not bothering to undo the pretty yellow button, he rips it open. My eyes watch as it pings across the room and hits the tiled wall before dropping to the floor. My gaze cuts back to his. The heat in his eyes is unmistakable, causing my breath to hitch. “Jake, you can’t—”

“I can. So shut your fucking mouth, Mackenzie.”

My pants are yanked down. The zipper unfastens on its own accord from the force. My panties are shoved down next. Jake leaves them bunched around my calves as he lifts me and sets my bare ass on the counter.

He spreads my legs, pushes his way between them, and unzips his jeans. “What are you doing?”

Jake slips a hand between my legs. The rough pad of his finger finds my clit and he rubs, finding me wet. “What am I doing?” The next moment his hand is gone and his thick cock is pushing inside me. The intrusion is unexpected yet my body pulses around him, welcoming it. I bite down on my bottom lip, unable to stop the moan from escaping. “You’re a smart girl,” he states. “You work it out.”

“Jake,” I gasp, my hands sliding around his neck when he fully seats himself inside of me. I bury my head in his neck and breathe in the familiar scent of his warm, male skin.

“Look at me,” he demands, his shoulders bunching with muscle as he grabs the naked cheeks of my ass in his big hands.

I draw back and look him in his eyes. They’re dark and burning with anger. “Look me in the eye while I’m fucking you, Mac, and tell me you don’t need me. Tell me you could walk away from me tomorrow and never look back.”

 

JAKE

 

My chest burns with fury and my body aches with the animalistic urge to thrust. The crumbs Mac offers me aren’t enough. It’s never enough. She takes too much and gives too little, and it’s ripping me apart. There’s no backing down now. Not anymore. Not even with me buried inside her, the heat of her body pulsing around my cock.

When Mac doesn’t answer, I pull out and drive back in, ignoring the sharp bolt of pleasure that spikes through me. “Tell me!” I roar, desperate, because if she walks away, all the light in the world will die. Don’t leave me in the dark.

Her jaw locks tight but a fat tear spills over and falls down her cheek. “I’m not walking away,” she whispers, her voice thick. “I need you.” Emotion clogs my throat as I watch another tear fall following the trail of the one before it. “If I had to live without you, I wouldn’t survive it.”

And I realise it in that moment. She’s not the one who’s always walking away. It’s me. Goddammit, it’s me. I grab her head in my hands, her hair like golden silk beneath my fingertips as I drag her forehead to mine.

Another rap comes at the bathroom door. My mouth presses in a thin line and her lips curve at the frustration in my expression. She cups my jaw, her fingers sliding along the stubbled skin in a soothing gesture. “I’ve got this.” Turning her head toward the door, she calls out, “Get lost, Henry.”

Goddamn, Mac is sexy. My cock pulses inside the heat of her body, and I draw out nice and slow, the pace a delicious torment.

The sound of a throat being cleared floats gently toward us as I sink slowly back inside. “It’s ahh Quinn.”

Mac lets loose a long, slow hiss, and it’s my turn to grin. “Relax, Princess, I’ll get this one,” I tell her, and over my shoulder call out, “Get lost, Quinn.”

Quinn’s intake of breath is sharp and clearly audible.

Mac snickers. Her laughter tickles my skin as she buries her head in my neck.

“Well holy shit,” we hear Quinn mutter, her voice fading as she walks away. When we’re both sure she’s gone, we don’t waste any more time. Mac’s mouth falls on mine, and I yank up her shirt. My hands grope at her lace-covered tits. Her nipples are peaked, and she kisses me as I pinch them both. Hard. Mac breaks away, her back arching.

I thrust again and she gasps a soft keening sound that sends hot shivers down my spine. “Harder,” she orders, even though she knows she doesn’t get to dictate terms when it comes to this.

My pace slows further, and her frantic hands find the globes of my ass. Her fingernails dig in deep. My voice is forceful. “Ask me nicely.”

“Please,” she begs, heat stealing over her cheeks.

The word is pretty on her lips, but I want more. I want her to see it too. I pull out and turn her around so she faces the mirror. Planting a hand in her back, I nudge her downward, forcing her ass to rise in the air. The cheeks are smooth, round, and bare to my gaze. Taking the root of my cock in hand, I push the fat tip just an inch inside as she grips the edges of the vanity.

I find her eyes in the mirror. “Say it again.”

“Please,” she whispers.

I thrust back in at the same time my palm comes down. The sound of a slap renders the air. Mac hisses and moans as I massage the reddened skin of her ass cheek.

“Jake,” she rasps. “They’ll hear us.”

“No they won’t,” I soothe. “Everyone is outside.”

But there’s no time to play like I want, so I abandon my restraint. Hard, aggressive thrusts push Mac again and again into the counter. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip and her lids close as she hangs her head.

 

MAC

 

Jake fists my hair and yanks my head back so all I can see in the mirror is him driving inside me, messy and hard as my orgasm builds.

His muscles are bunched tight, straining, and his breath comes in fierce pants.

“Jake,” I say on a long moan. His wicked gaze watches as pleasure burns through me like a raging inferno.

He groans and bows over my back, wrapping both arms around my middle like a manacle. “Baby,” he grunts as he bucks against me, coming with an unleashed power that shakes his entire body.

Jake holds me to him for a long moment. The side of his face is pressed against my back. The beat of his heart is frantic against my skin. I surrender to the sound and let it lull me for a minute. Then his head lifts. His dark eyes find mine as his lips touch my shoulder in a tender kiss.

Jake is two sides of a coin: wickedly formidable on one when he lets his rough side out to play, and irresistibly sweet on the other. When both sides combine like they’ve done today, it becomes a powerful force of nature I can’t withstand.

Amusement glitters in my expression. I like seeing him spent because of me. “Are we done here? Because I’ve got shit to do.”

Jake unlocks his arms from my middle and slowly straightens. “You’re so sweet.”

“If you want sweet,” I say to him in the mirror, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

“My bad.” He pulls out and reaches for the washcloth that’s folded neatly by the sink. “I guess I’ll go find some other girl to poke my cock into. I’m sure there are plenty of girls out there sweeter than you.”

I grab said cock in my palm and squeeze gently. “You could, but there’s a slight problem with your plan.”

Jake looks down at his dick in my grip before his gaze lifts to mine. He arches a brow. “Oh?”

“You don’t like them sweet.”

He gives me a cheeky grin and holds up both palms. “You got me.”

“I do,” I say, offering a grin of my own in return. “Literally.”

Jake shakes his head with amusement and unpeels my palm from his cock, replacing it with the washcloth. “Clean yourself up, Princess. You look like you just got royally fucked.”

 

 

My eyes are quick enough to spy Henry stuffing a fifty-dollar note in his pocket as I stalk inside the back study where he, Evie, and Quinn have congregated to resolve our current crisis.

“What’s going on?” I bark.

I take satisfaction in seeing the three of them jump. I know what they’re doing. Sneaky assholes. They know about me and Jake and are placing bets on our relationship. If they think I’m oblivious to what goes on in our little group, then I’m the Second Coming. Sometimes I think they forgot who they’re dealing with.

Resolving to corner Travis and find out the exact bet—because there’s no doubt it’s more than just the three of them involved—he can ante up a wad of cash on my behalf. Secretly.

Schooling the smirk that rises on my lips, I take the office chair Quinn just vacated and sit, giving them all an eyeball in turn.

“What about Grace?” Henry asks, referring to his younger sister.

I swivel my chair in his direction. “What about her?”

“She can play bass. I could give her a call?”

I’ve met Grace on occasion when she’s flown into Melbourne, returning from her modelling assignments. Her visits are rare yet she always takes the time to send us care packages filled with makeup and clothes from photoshoots. She’s spirited, fun, and my kind of girl.

She’s also Casey’s kind of girl. I know that cocky charmer’s type. He likes them feisty, and his head always turns for a second look whenever a redhead passes him. Having her here will fit well with my matchmaking plans. Putting Grace in his line of sight will be a challenge impossible for him to ignore.

“Where is she right now?” I ask Henry.

“Melbourne.”

Just an hour’s flight away. “Set it up,” I tell him, steepling my fingers together.

He tugs his phone from his pocket, dials Grace, and leaves the room as he speaks.

Evie, unusually quiet since my arrival in the room, begins to heave in silence. Her brow is lined with a light sheen of sweat. The glare I send her way is edged with anxiety. “Stop it, Sandwich. There will be no heaving, no sweating, and definitely no puking today. Vomit on the inside, like a winner.”

Evie swallows a few times before her eyes goes wide. I know that look. She’s about to gush like an overturned fire hydrant.

I point to the door. “Go.”

“Sorry,” she gasps. With a hand flying to her mouth, Evie stands and flees the room.

My hard stare turns on Quinn.

“What can I do?” she asks.

I check my watch. It’s eleven a.m. “Arrange flights for Grace. We need her here yesterday.”

She nods, stands, and leaves the room to get the iPad she works from.

“Oh, and Quinn?”

She turns at the doorway.

“Find out where Casey is too, will you?” There’s no supressing the grin. “He can pick her up from the airport.”

Quinn cocks her head. “What’s so amusing?”

“Nothing.” I wipe the expression from my face. “Stop wasting time, asshead, and do what I asked.”

“And what will you be doing? Spending another inordinately excessive amount of time in the bathroom with Jake?”

“You can shove your big words where the sun don’t shine, Quinn, because I’ll be right here taking care of business. I have to consult with the stylist now that Frog is out and Grace is in. Her security also needs to be arranged…” because Grace is a big deal “…along with an extra rehearsal for this afternoon. The event organisers need to be contacted so we can add her to the list. Then there’s the—”

Quinn waves a hand cutting me off. “Okay, okay.” She begins to walk away, saying over her shoulder, “I get it. Now that you’ve done Jake, you have other shit to do.”

“Quinn,” I snap.

She stops and turns around.

“What I do with Jake is none of your business. Or anyone else’s for that matter.”

Quinn strolls back to the study and leans against the doorframe folding her arms. “Oh? Like you made me and Travis your business?”

“This is different. There’s history there that you have no idea about.”

With a shrug, she pushes off from the side of the door and says, “Well … maybe it’s time you shared that history with the rest of us,” before leaving.

I sit back in my chair with a huff, head tilted to the ceiling, as I close my eyes for a brief moment. The time for sharing has long passed.

Hasn’t it?

“I see your minions have scattered.”

I open my eyes. Jared stands in front of the desk, a beer in one hand and a champagne cocktail in the other. I know why he’s here, and I also know it’s best to just get it over with rather than brush him off the way I want to.

Like ripping off a Band-Aid, Mac. The sting will be sharp and it’ll throb for a little while after, but then the pain will eventually go away.

“It’s a little early for drinking, isn’t it?” I ask, which is a ridiculous question because if there’s ever a time for alcohol …

Jared snorts. “Tell me you didn’t just ask me that,” he says, extending the crystal flute toward me. The glasses were a housewarming gift from our parents. They were very astute with their present, no doubt foreseeing many occasions that would be cause for future celebration.

I take the champagne while he takes a seat opposite me. “I didn’t just ask you that.”

“Good,” he replies as I bring the glass to my lips. “Because I figured you’d need the drink after having an epic bout of sex in my downstairs bathroom.”

Fizzy alcohol sprays from my mouth. It showers the desk and my rumpled blouse. I set my flute on the desk and grab for a tissue to dab at the mess. “Jake and I were merely taking some time to resolve an issue.”

His brows soar sky high. “Well, clearly you resolved the shit out of it.”

There’s only one thing I can do and that’s to roll with it, so I give my brother a cool stare. “I’m a Valentine. I do what it takes to get the job done.”

Laughter explodes from my brother. Loud and infectious, it rings out across the room. My lips twitch, and I can’t help the responding chuckle.

When his amusement dies down, he shakes his head and looks at me.

“What?” I ask.

“I should’ve known there was no embarrassing you with that statement. You’re tough as nails, Mac.” Jared looks at me with a mixture of pride and admiration. “Nobody pulls one over on you.”

“Like you were just trying to do now? What was your plan? Blackmail me into forgiving you?”

“Blackmail?”

“You know what Jake and I did. What were you going to do, use it as leverage?”

Jared sets his beer on the desk and lets out a breath. “What, like running to Mum and Dad?”

He’s done it before. “It’s not beneath you.”

Jared shrugs. “Like you said, we’re Valentines. We do what it takes to get the job done.”

“Touché,” I reply over the rim of my glass. “But I think we’re a little old now to go running to our parents and tittle-tattle.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think we’ll ever be too old for that.” Jared picks his beer up with a wry grin and takes a sip. Then he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, staring at the bottle as though it holds all the answers to the universe. “You’re my sister, Mackenzie. And I love you. I can’t have you angry with me anymore.”

I nod, rubbing my lips together. “Well, you’re my brother, Jared, and I love you too. The truth is I’m not angry. Not anymore.”

Jared exhales. It’s a deep sound of relief. When he looks up, his eyes are sad and heavy with guilt, and I realise what’s going through his head. It’s not just the betrayal. It’s the car accident. He was the driver and blames himself for my miscarriage. “I’m still hurt over what you all did, but the car accident was exactly that,” I tell him. “An accident. Maybe you should try forgiving yourself.”

“I’m not sure I can. The truth is…” he begins and pauses, swiping a hand across his jaw “…the truth is that …”

I say what he can’t say himself. “You and Evie are having a baby.”

His eyes search mine. “You know.”

“Of course.” My heart gives a painful thump, but I force my lips to curve. “I’m a Valentine, remember? It’s my job to know everything.”

Jared gives a shaky laugh, taking my teasing tone as a sign that his news hasn’t caused me any hurt. “Sometimes you scare me, Mac.”

I hold my champagne cocktail toward him for a toast. He clinks it with his beer bottle and after we both take a sip, I say, “Sometimes I scare myself.”