“Geez, who knew becoming a mom would turn you into even more of a hard-ass,” I grumble, plugging my nose and taking a healthy swallow.
“She really does have a hard ass.” Gage ambles over to join us, moving way more gracefully than a man of six-seven should be able to, and cups Rocky’s butt with the hand not holding Ronnie.
God, there really is nothing sexier than a hot guy holding a baby.
“Can you save the foreplay for when you’re not around people who aren’t currently getting any? Not all of us are as disgustingly in love as you two,” I say, stepping around them.
I’m joking—for the most part anyway. Just because I can’t figure out what true love is for myself doesn’t mean I begrudge anyone else having it. I love love. Hello—I write romance. At least I get to live vicariously through my friends as they fall like dominos into their happily-ever-afters.
“Madz, babe.” Tucker slings an arm over my shoulders as soon as I’m close enough. “I keep telling you I volunteer as tribute to end your dry spell.” Did Dex just growl? “Just ask Bubble how good I am.”
He is damn lucky Skye isn’t here to hear his comment. It wouldn’t end well for Tuck if she were. For one, she hates when he calls her Bubble. And two, well…that’s a story for a different day.
“Never gonna happen, M-Dubs.” I pat his cheek a little harder than necessary. Soul sister solidarity and all that. “Plus, I don’t need all the complications of sex in my life anyway.”
I finish off Rocky’s magic potion, which shockingly isn’t gross, rinse out the glass, and load it into my dishwasher.
“Madz, Madz, Madz.” Tuck shakes his head like he’s disappointed. “When are you going to take my advice—”
“Never,” Damon, another of Tucker’s old teammates from BTU and the other player to switch to The Steele Maker, calls out from my living room, bringing my attention to him for the first time.
I’m not surprised to see him here. I grew closest with the guys who played on the hockey team with Ryan, but especially those like Damon and Nick who graduated the same year.
“Don’t be a hater, Dame.” Tucker waves him off before turning his attention back to me. “Anyway…what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted.” He waits a beat to make sure Damon isn’t going to go for round two. When Damon continues to stay silent, he continues. “There is nothing complicated about sex. You slide a dick into a pussy. Simple as that.” He inserts the pointer finger of one hand into the circle he’s made with the other, simulating the action, and then wipes his hands together, illustrating how easy it is.
“And you wonder why Skye won’t sleep with you again?” Rocky asks.
“I know you sleep with a lot of bunnies, but haven’t you heard of a thing called foreplay?” comes from Damon.
“Maybe we should give him a highlighter so he can take notes for our next book club read,” Gage offers, and I can’t help but snort. He’s been a part of our group for almost two years, but he’s still one of the more reserved ones of our motley crew.
What is with all the growling coming from Dex?
“Yeah, Madz. Maybe you should be Tuck’s Obi-Wan. Instead of teaching him the way of the Jedi, you can teach him the way of pleasing a woman before he goes all wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.” Damon falls over sideways, laughing at his own cleverness.
“Annnd on that note”—I spin on my heel—“I’m out.”
I may be too hungover for the words to flow, but at least in my office I don’t have to hear others comment on my lack of sex life.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Deep down, a part of me always knew if I were to give in to my feelings for Maddey, even if for just a second, everything would change. What I wasn’t prepared for was to have my entire world shift on its axis. With one kiss, that is exactly what happened last night.
For years she’s held my heart without either of us knowing it, but with every whimper, breathy sigh, and low moan, she only burrowed herself deeper into me. She’s in the fucking marrow of my bones.
I gave her the night, letting her sleep off the effects of the alcohol in her system before pushing the issue. It’s bad enough I kissed her while she was intoxicated, but I justified it by telling myself if she was cognizant enough to rip me a new one over talking to Justin without her, she was sober enough for it not to be considered taking advantage. I simply had to kiss her.
Don’t even get me started on the restraint it took for me not to cop that feel she joked about when I changed her clothes for bed. Her skin was pure silk underneath my rough hands when I eased her outfit down her torso and off her hips.
Thank fuck I had the foresight to put my shirt on her before I started to undress her, because the all-too-brief touches of the lingerie she had on under her clothes—lacy, delicate, sexy as hell—had me close to saying fuck it to my good intentions.
My self-restraint paid off in spades this morning. Rumpled, hungover, a riot of curly hair, she still managed to embody every fantasy I’ve had of her being mine. Okay, not every single one, but the PG ones at least.
When she sassed about why she was in my shirt, I brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal, though in reality it was just one of the ways I wanted to mark her as mine. It didn’t matter that we were in her house, in a room with both a dresser and a closet full of her clothes. I wanted—no, needed to see what she looked like in something of mine.
Perfect—that’s how she looked.
Maddey’s friends didn’t hang around long after she retreated to her office upstairs, and now hours later I scrub my hands over my face, frustrated by the lack of progress on identifying her stalker.
“Why can’t we figure out who this guy is, Trident?”
Woof! Woof!
“I know he’s smart, but there has to be something we’re missing.”
Woof!
“Don’t worry, bud. I’m not stopping until I find it.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that one, Trident has started spending more time with me when Maddey locks herself away to write, and two, I’m talking to him the same way Maddey does. I can only imagine the hell I’ll get if I start doing the same with Bullet when I rejoin the team.
It’s nice having a sounding board, though. We need to catch a break. The way this asshole is only using snail mail to terrorize Maddey is making it infinitely harder to track his identity. The only thing we’ve been able to work out—a detail that only increases the threat level—is the guy is from New Jersey. Every time something comes through the mail, it has been processed somewhere in the state. Unfortunately, those locations have varied and changed each time.
As pissed as Maddey is that I excluded her from my conversation with Justin and Paul, I don’t regret it for a second. The way my friend paled when he read the highlighted passages and the intention behind them made me glad I went with my gut to shield Maddey from it.
I do hate that in protecting her, I hurt her, but I would make the same decision every time if it meant I could keep the darkness from snuffing out her light.
Trident’s collar jingles as he turns toward the sound of Maddey’s soft voice floating down the hall before she steps into view.