Things seemed to cool considerably between Mack and Lucy over the next few days as the wedding approached. She was practically living at his house full-time at his insistence, sleeping in his bed, sharing meals with him and accepting rides to and from the diner from him. But they barely spoke and when they did, he was almost never civilized. The only place they communicated was in bed where, oddly enough, his lovemaking had taken on a tender, almost desperate turn. As though he knew he was driving her away and needed to cling to her in those moments. Speaking to her through actions when words failed him.

Lucy lay awake, watching her sleeping boyfriend. Dawn edged through the drawn curtains, caressing his features. Used to farm hours, she was almost always awake before him unless he had to work. Her eyes traced the hard lines of his face and body. Even in sleep he didn’t soften. He was always on edge, always ready to take out the enemy. One arm was thrown over his head while the other rested between them. It had been splayed across her stomach while they slept but dropped to the mattress during the night. Mack liked to touch her, keep tabs on her at all times, whether they were conscious or not.

She studied the muscles of his arms and torso where the blankets had fallen away and sighed in sheer female fascination – he was such a mouth-wateringly delicious good-looking man. Even hard-living farm life hadn’t shaped the men in her community like this. But she also sighed in resignation. Those muscles also signified a strength that far outstripped her own; that took away her power at every turn, every time they had a conversation he didn’t like.

Careful not to jostle him Lucy pulled her legs up from beneath the covers and rolled away. She would make breakfast for them, perhaps soothe the beast before he started snapping at her about the wedding again. Before she could take a single step off the bed she was seized from behind and yanked back around to land face down on top of a very hard surface. Very hard, all over.

“Well good morning,” she said huskily.

His eyes spoke heat, anger and passion as he glared up at her. She was not forgiven yet for her betrayal over the wedding. He still wanted her to change her mind. Didn’t this man take any breaks for peace? She opened her mouth to ask him just that when his large hand covered the back of her head and he pulled her down for a kiss. The move was so sudden she braced against his chest. He took the move for resistance and, with a growl, rolled her underneath him, his mouth crashing down on hers.

Mack thrust one large, hairy leg between hers, right up to the juncture of her thighs until she arched and moaned into his mouth, the friction against her tender clit was more than she was prepared for. Mack had spent a good portion of the night between her thighs, worshiping every part of her, paying particular attention to her clitoris, bringing her closer and closer to the edge only to deny, before finally surging into her and sending her spiraling over the edge. Now she was swollen and sore, but still wet and squirming beneath him.

She managed to pull her mouth from his and gasp, “Mack… too much!”

He gripped her jaw tight and forced her face back to his, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth, battling her tongue for dominance, silencing her protest. With a moan, Lucy submitted, curling her arms around his neck and accepting the rough ride for what it was. Mack needing to stamp himself all over her.

He gripped her thigh, just above her knee and pushed it up until she was opened wide, then positioned himself at her entrance. Lucy arched against his chest, trying desperately to catch her breath, to latch onto any semblance of sanity as he overwhelmed her senses, but there was only Mack. He pushed into her, driving his full, heavy length right to the hilt. She cried out, but his mouth captured the sound, swallowing it whole.

This was not the gentle lovemaking he’d been giving her lately. No, he was fucking her with savage intent. Lucy gripped his shoulders so hard she was sure there would be bloody marks left behind. He slammed into her over and over, bruising her. Even that didn’t seem to be enough for him. He hooked her leg higher on his arm, stretching her body tighter against his until she didn’t have even a single inch of wiggle room. He forced her head into the crook of his arm and kissed her until she nearly suffocated while he used her body.

Unbelievably she could feel herself soaring higher and higher, speeding toward the peak of orgasm. She wanted to deny him. She wanted to tear her face away from his and scream at him for hurting her, but her body was latching onto his in the face of the storm, desperately seeking the glorious high only he could give her. She screamed into his mouth, arching against him as she was hurtled into the best orgasm she’d yet experienced. It went on and on as he continued to thrust.

Her shuddering body and clenching pussy seemed to call to him, hurling him over the edge of his own orgasm. He refused to give her mouth up and shouted into her, his gritted teeth clacking against hers. He continued to move his hips against hers, his rhythm uneven, his tongue swiping possessively through the interior of her mouth. Lucy collapsed in his arms, completely spent. Black dots swam in her vision.

When Mack finally relinquished her mouth, Lucy took several gulps of air. As soon as she caught her breath she was going to unleash hell on this man for treating her so bad all the time. A tear escaped her eye and her hand fell weakly to her side as she tried to gather the energy to both crawl out from under him and start yelling.

His gravelly voice interrupted her. “I feel like I’m losing you, baby, and I don’t know how to stop it. The tighter I hold you the further you drift away.”

His head dropped against her neck, his soft blond hair resting underneath her chin. She breathed in his scent and brought her hand up to caress his back. “Stop holding so tight then,” she suggested hoarsely. “Give me some space.”

He shook his head against her chest. “I give you space and you run,” he said, his voice hard. “You’re my beautiful free spirit, Lucy. I love you, but I need to lock you down. You don’t need to understand, you just need to listen.”

Lucy’s heart stuttered. “You love me?” she gasped.

“Pretty damn sure that’s why I’m acting like a pussy-whipped asshole,” he grumbled pushing up and rolling off the bed. “And why this god-damned wedding has me so twisted up I can’t see straight.”

Lucy stared after him, her mouth open as he went to the ensuite. He loved her? Should she have confessed her feelings in return? He didn’t exactly give her an opportunity and the time didn’t feel right. He threw his declaration out there like it was a given and then moved on.

She could hear him using the toilet through the open door. She climbed off the bed and reached for her panties and skirt. The toilet flushed and then he ran water in the sink. Lucy tugged her sweater over her head and then peeked around the corner. He was bent over the sink rubbing handfuls of water over his face, his incredible ass flexing with the movement. Now that was a view she could happily get used to seeing every day of her life.

If only she didn’t have to take his rotten attitude with the beautiful package. He turned around abruptly, reaching for a towel and wiping away the water dripping from his chin. He eyed her outfit and shook his head.

“You’ll have to wear something of mine.”

“What? Why?” Lucy protested as he took her arm and steered her back into the bedroom.

He rummaged through his dresser, ignoring her protest and came up with a pair of sweatpants. He tossed them at her, grunting, “Put these on.”

Lucy caught them automatically and then glared at him and tossed the pants on the bed. “Why should I?”

Mack shoved a hand through his hair, upending the blond strands. Holy cow, her one weakness! “Just put them on, Luce! I’m not in the mood for another fight.”

She narrowed her eyes, but reached for her skirt, shoving it down her hips. He was never in the mood for anything except sex and perfect obedience. She smirked behind his back as she turned to grab the sweatpants. He only got one out of the two from her. She pulled his pants on and drew the drawstring in, tying it tight around her waist. She looked down, the bottom of the pants went way past her feet. She looked ridiculous.

She looked up at Mack and pointed at her feet with a raised eyebrow. His lips twitched but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he pushed her back on the bed and knelt at her feet where he rolled up the cuffs until the bottom of each pant leg rested at her ankle. Then he stood, gripped her by the waist and set her on her feet.

“Let’s go shoot something,” he said gruffly and turned away from her.

“What!?” Lucy yelped and lunged out the door after him, disbelief and trepidation clambering through her. “What do you mean we, Mack? What are we going to shoot?”

* * *

Lucy hated guns. Hated every part of what they represented. Death. The taking of lives. Aggression. Fear. Power imbalance.

Yet, shooting with Mack was one of the most perfect moments in her life. She supposed how she felt about guns and how she felt about shooting with Mack pretty much summed up her entire screwed up relationship with the big guy. She loved him, but she knew it wasn’t right.

He took her out to the far edge of his property, which was much bigger and more rugged and barren than she’d realized. It was absolutely beautiful. The sun was still making its way sleepily up the horizon as they made their way across the rough rock-strewn ground. The targets were already set up. Much farther away than Lucy thought possible.

Mack let Lucy shoot first. It was the first time in her life that she ever even held a gun, let alone pulled a trigger. He explained the basic mechanics, then placed fluorescent orange earplugs in her ears, stood behind her and showed her how to hold the rifle. Nerves created sweaty palms, so Lucy had to set the gun down, wipe her hands and try again. Then he helped her hold the gun and pull the trigger.

Of course, she missed. But much to her astonishment, an unexpected rush of adrenalin went coursing through her body! She turned to him, a grin plastered across her lips and a flush spreading across her cheeks. She felt utterly exhilarated, standing out there in the open country, her man at her back and nothing but a target at her front. He nodded toward the target and she turned back. This time taking aim without his assistance. It took several more shots, but eventually she hit the target.

Whooping in joy, she set the gun down and jumped into Mack’s arms. She couldn’t hear him over the earplugs, but she felt the vibrations of his laughter through his chest. He set her on her feet, took her face between his broad palms and kissed her soundly while she grinned like a loon.

He plucked the earplugs out of her ears and said, “My turn, baby.”

“Okay,” she agreed, breathing heavily from sheer excitement.

They gathered the rifles, ammunition and water bottles they’d brought along and began walking.

“Where are we going?” Lucy asked curiously.

Mack gave her a look. “I don’t shoot from here.”

“Oh.”

They walked for what felt like a long time before he finally stopped. Lucy stared around her in confusion. She couldn’t even see the target anymore. Catching her look, Mack handed her a pair of binoculars and pointed. She lifted them to her eyes and adjusted until she finally caught sight of the same target she’d been shooting at. Her mouth fell open. Was he seriously going to hit the same target?

“No way!” she gasped.

He chuckled. “They don’t pay me the big bucks for no reason, baby,” he told her, setting the rifle up amongst some rocks on the ground. Given the way he lay on the ground and made himself immediately comfortable among the rocks it became clear he’d been shooting in this particular location before. Lucy dropped down beside him. He handed her the earplugs, which she took and put in her ears.

Then he did something unexpected. He pulled her half on top of him and encouraged her to settle so that her chin was against the opposite shoulder he needed for shooting. She thought it might hamper his shot, but he seemed to want her close. So, she snuggled into his side, dropped her chin on his shoulder and put the binoculars up to her eyes while he prepared his shot. She absorbed the feel of his body lifting and dropping slowly underneath hers as he took slow, deep breaths. She felt the subtle bunch of his shoulder muscles as he prepared for the shot, then she watched the paper target shred right through the middle, followed by a muffled boom.

The most perfect moment of her life.

A tear slid down her cheek and landed on his neck. He took another shot while she snuggled in closer and closed her eyes. When he finished his shot she whispered against his shoulder, “I love you too.”