Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(63)

“Anger.”

“Damn right.” He curled his fingers around the nape of her neck and pressed his forehead to hers. “Damn right I’m angry.” The words hissed out between his teeth. “I think of you with other men. I obsess about it. Your mouth on someone else. Someone else inside of you.” He took a breath like a man drowning. “You’re part of me. Bone deep, Jaimie. You can’t just think you can walk out and it’s going to be okay. You could have come back anytime, but you didn’t. I thought . . .”

“What?” There were tears in her voice. “That I’d come crawling back, broken?” Alone. Torn apart inside. Unable to sleep or eat or care.

“That you’d see we were meant to be together. That you’d find out you wanted me.” There was hurt in his voice. Pain.

That took her breath away. His pain. She could feel it now. Sharp. Terrible. “Of course I wanted you, Mack. We never had a problem with wanting each other. It’s the more we have trouble with.”

Something flickered in the depths of his eyes and her stomach flipped. She caught a glimpse of his anger. Deep. Bone deep. The way he said she was wrapped inside of him. She’d never been afraid of Mack, not even for a small instant. Sometimes the intensity of their lovemaking scared her, but never Mack.

“Work it out with me, Jaimie.”

How could she hold her ground with him? He’d always managed to do this to her. He overwhelmed her and she gave in and nothing changed between them. “I’ll try, Mack,” she whispered, feeling like she was giving him her soul.

He found her mouth and took her. That easily. He tasted of male and sex. A sinful pleasure that streaked like lightning through her veins, sizzling, taking her breath. She knew what he meant when he called her an addiction. That was what he was to her. She craved him, the taste and scent of him, the feel of him. His laughter and his strength. He was everything to her. He always would be.

“What am I to you?” she murmured against his mouth.

Obsession. Addiction.

The words shimmered in her mind. A blanket of resentment. A wealth of possession. She couldn’t find love. If he let himself think it, he didn’t acknowledge it. If he let himself feel it, he refused to show her. Anger. He was so angry.

Jaimie pushed at his chest. “We’d better go.”

Mack stepped back away from her, out of the light and into the shadows where she couldn’t see his face. Where she couldn’t see his body tremble or his hands shake.

Tiny red dots appeared, clustered over Mack’s heart on his bare chest. A second cluster appeared centered between his eyes. Jaimie gasped and froze. Mack stilled, one hand sliding under his shirt at the small of his back as he looked up. Eight grim-faced men stared at him from across the room, guns drawn and aimed.

“You want to tell me what you’re doing with our sister?” Ethan demanded. “Because it doesn’t look good from where I’m standing.”

Mack let his breath out. “That’s not funny. I could have shot you.”

“Yeah, well, take your hand out from under that shirt really slow Mack,” Kane said. “Jaimie, you take a step away from him.”

Color swept up Jaimie’s neck and into her face. “Are you all crazy? Put your guns away and stop fooling around.”

“Poor choice of words, Jaimie,” Javier said. “I think there’s been enough fooling around. We aren’t fooling. No one, not even Mack, is going to mess with our sister and get away with it.”

“No one stopped him when we were living together,” Jaimie pointed out, jerking her head up, eyes narrowing dangerously. Her riot of curls went flying in all directions. Usually that was enough to get them all under control, but the guns held rock steady.

“We thought his intentions were honorable back then,” Marc said.

“We just got you back,” Lucas added.

They all nodded in agreement.

Kane indicated for her to move with his gun. “Get away from him, Jaimie. He doesn’t get to lead you on and walk away free.”

“You aren’t going to shoot him,” she said firmly, but she didn’t sound too sure.

“No, but we’re going to beat the hell out of him,” Jacob said. “Go on upstairs while we take care of this.”

“Go on upstairs, Jaimie,” Mack agreed quietly.

“What century are you all living in?” Jaimie demanded. “This isn’t funny. It’s not like any of you . . .”

“Not with our sister, we don’t,” Javier snapped. “Get away from him, Jaimie. I mean it. Go upstairs.”

“You’re serious.”

“He doesn’t get to touch you unless his intentions are strictly honorable.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Jaimie stepped in front of Mack. “You’ve all lost your minds.”

Mack put her gently aside. “You can try to beat the crap out of me, boys, but none of you are that good.” He flexed his shoulders.

“Put your weapons up right this minute,” Jaimie demanded. When no one did, she put both hands on her hips, trying to be seen around Mack’s large frame. “This is my house and you’re being disrespectful.”

“He’s being disrespectful,” Kane said.

“For your information, and it’s none of your business, I seduced him, not the other way around. You’re pointing your guns at the wrong person.”