Luscious (Topped #1)(54)

He didn’t understand. Adam had always been the smart one. He’d been the rebel, able to shove aside everything. Macon had given in. He’d chosen comfort over Adam when they were younger. He’d let Ronnie blow his own head off. He’d been stupid enough to believe Ally’s lies.

At least he could do one thing. He could break his silence with Ally. She hadn’t taken the hint. He clutched the pie and strode to the backdoor. All he could think about as he made it to the grass was telling Ally he didn’t need her damn pie. He could make his own pie. Hell, he could buy a pie if he really wanted one, but he wasn’t ever touching her pie again. He wasn’t going to taste her sweetness and eat a piece like a starving man. No. She’d ruined pie for him, or maybe it had been the numerous sexual references his brother seemed to make about pie, but it didn’t matter. Pie sucked. He didn’t eat pie any more so she could keep her f*cking sweet ass pie to herself. Or give it away to the next idiot. He didn’t care.

He tripped, not looking where he was going, and cursed his f*cking leg as he fell to the ground. His not leg. His f*cked up, blown to shit body that only one woman had ever really wanted.

The pie fell to the ground, glass pan cracking and sending the insides all over the grass.

He tried to get up, but he stumbled again, his leg unable to move the way he needed it to.

“Macon!” Ally’s face suddenly loomed over him.

And he wanted to hurt her the way she’d hurt him.





Ally had seen him walking across the yard like a man on a mission. She’d taken a deep breath because she’d been waiting for it. She’d been waiting for the moment when he finally confronted her. She’d thought it would go one of two ways. He’d either realize he forgave her and couldn’t stay away a moment longer or he would realize he couldn’t stand two more seconds without telling her what a lying bitch she was.

From the look in his eyes, she’d been willing to bet he’d chosen door number two.

But it hadn’t mattered what his intentions were once she’d seen him fall.

She threw open the door and raced across the space between them. She hadn’t cared that she was wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of boxer shorts. She ran to get to him. “Macon!”

She dropped to her knees.

He was on his back, his eyes closed. His handsome face was set in mulish lines. “Go away.”

“Let me help you.” She reached for his hand and the minute she did, his closed around it.

His eyes came open and she could see the blazing emotion in them. He was so mad, so angry. God, she was afraid of him in that moment. “You won’t go away then you get what you deserve.”

He tugged her down on top of him and then rolled his big body over, pinning her down. She caught a glimpse of his face before he took her mouth. There was no kindness in this kiss, but it didn’t matter. It was still Macon and the minute his lips met hers, it started a wildfire low in her gut. Her whole body softened.

His tongue plundered, his hands gripping her wrists over her head. She was completely immobilized, held down as he savaged her mouth.

She managed to get her legs spread, wanting nothing more than to feel his erection against her core. He was dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, likely getting ready for either PT or a workout. The thin layers of clothing that separated them did nothing to obscure the feel of his lengthening cock. He grew by the second and she responded.

She wrapped her arms around him. If he needed this, needed to be rough with her, she could handle it. She could take everything he had to give. She’d spent day after day praying he would get that hard glint in his eyes and order her someplace private where he could spank her for lying to him. If he would do that, be the Dom he’d told her he wanted to be, then she would know there was hope.

Taking out his anger through sex was certainly a better way than taking it out by yelling at her. She didn’t care. All she knew was they had to break through his rage.

He ground his cock against her, the big erection hitting her clit. It didn’t take much to make her ready for him. In the time they’d lived together, he’d trained her to expect pleasure from him, and her body was ready. Night after night she’d gone to their lonely bed and lain awake thinking about all the ways they’d made love. And it was love. He might be telling himself it was all about sex, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t even about sex now. Even as he thrust his hand under her shirt and started to cup her breasts, she knew emotion was riding him. This wasn’t lust. It was dominance and possession. She’d stripped him of his newfound confidence and she had to find a way to get it back.

“I love you.”

His head came up. “Don’t you f*cking say that to me again.”

“I can keep my mouth shut, but it doesn’t change the truth.” She wasn’t going to back down. This was too important.

“Do you love me enough to let me f*ck you again?” He said the word “love” with a nasty twist of his mouth, like it was something distasteful.

“Yes.”

His hips moved, sliding his cock along her core. If they’d been naked, he would have been inside her. “What does that make you, Sarah?”

She was sure he would use all kinds of nasty words on her. They wouldn’t mean anything. He was a wounded animal and they tended to bite the hands of the people who healed them because they didn’t know any better. She’d had two long talks with Adam since the day Macon had left her. He’d shown up on her doorstep—his doorstep really—the morning after the debacle and demanded to know why she was still here. He’d offered her cash to leave and when she wouldn’t, he’d finally sat down and listened to her. And then he’d spoken. He’d told her about his and Macon’s childhood. There had been no softness, no love. Macon didn’t know how to react. He was just learning and she’d made him stumble in a brutal fashion.