I lift my gaze to meet her eyes. “I didn’t.”

  24

  “What the fuck was that?” Ares grumbles, blinking in confusion as Madd charges back out the door of the infirmary.

  I shake my head, just as confused as he is.

  “Why would someone mess with your phones?” Lo asks, wrinkling her nose.

  I glance down at the pair of cell phones in my lap- my own, and what I’m guessing is Madd’s. I lift it and the screen lights up, an image of a muddy Jeep wrangler set as the background of the lock screen.

  Yup, definitely his.

  I pause when a prompt appears to enter the passcode, realizing that I don’t know it. It used to be my birthday back when we were teenagers, but surely he’s changed it since. Then again, I never changed my own.

  So I try it.

  And it works.

  When the phone unlocks, his messaging app is already open, and my heart skips a beat as I realize what I’m looking at.

  Madd’s messages… to me.

  Only they’re messages I never actually received, the most recent one sent just yesterday, asking me to meet him on the roof.

  My heart plummets, all the air whooshing from my lungs on an exhale.

  “Sloane, what’s going on?” Lo asks, her brow creasing in concern as she leans in to try to see what I’m looking at.

  I jerk Madd’s phone away from her prying eyes, pressing the screen against my chest protectively and whipping my head around to stare at her and Ares, my mouth hanging open. “I… it’s…”

  I shake my head, mind reeling as I try and fail to find words while the two of them look to me in question. Then I draw a deep breath, grasping for some semblance of composure in light of the fucking bomb Madd just dropped in my lap.

  Ares cocks a brow, both of them still awaiting some sort of explanation.

  I wish I had one.

  “Thanks for checking up on me, guys, but I just… I need a minute,” I grind out, forcing the words past the growing lump in my throat.

  The two of them exchange glances, hesitantly rising from their chairs beside the cot.

  “You sure you’re good?” Ares asks.

  I nod, still holding the phone tight against my chest, right over my pounding heart.

  I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  My friends reluctantly leave, casting suspicious glances in my direction on their way out, and only once they’re gone do I dare lower the phone again, my eyes focusing in on the most recent outgoing message once more.

  Madd: We should talk. Meet me at our spot on the roof after dinner tonight.

  That’s why he was such a jerk today. He thought I ditched him.

  Not that it’s any excuse, but…

  Fuck.

  I never received that message. If I had, I would’ve gone. A real conversation between the two of us is long overdue.

  Sucking in a breath through my teeth, I start scrolling back… and back…

  There are so many messages- all from a long time ago, but thanks to cloud storage, they’re right here at my fingertips. At least a hundred of them… all of which went unanswered from the time I left until now.

  When I read the first handful of texts he sent after I moved away, I swear it feels like my heart’s being cleaved from my chest.

  Madd: I’m sorry we fought. I miss you already. Hope you made it to Denver ok.

  Madd: Please pick up my call, Duchess.

  Madd: Guess you’re still mad. I probably deserve that. Just know I love you and I miss you, and I’ll figure out a way to fix this. I’m going crazy without you here, babe.

  Madd: Sloane, come ON. How long are you gonna punish me for that stupid ass fight? Pick up the fucking phone.

  Madd: Getting real sick of these games, baby.

  I start hyperventilating, the realization of what this means settling over me like an icy frost. He tried to message me after I left. All this time, I’d thought he was so mad that he cut off contact, but he tried…

  Tears blur my vision as I scroll a little farther, pausing to read again.

  Madd: Are you serious? You’re fucking ghosting me now?

  Madd: That’s it, I’m coming up there.

  Madd: I’m on my way, Dutch. See you soon.

  Madd: I’m here, tell them to let me through the fucking gate!

  Madd: WHAT THE FUCK?! TELL THEM TO LET ME IN!

  Madd: Sloane, please… don’t do this. I fucking love you. Let me in, baby.

  Madd: I swear if you don’t get them to let me in right the fuck now, I’m DONE. This isn’t fucking cute anymore. Let. Me. In.

  I bury a hand in my hair, tugging at the strands as tears slip from my eyes and track wet paths down my cheeks.

  He tried to come to Denver. And for some reason, he couldn’t get past the gate.

  I never knew…

  I shudder a sob, my heart fucking breaking.

  Because he didn’t shut me out.

  He wanted to stay in touch, and someone prevented us from doing that.

  And I have a sinking feeling that I know who.

  I bury my face in my hands, allowing my emotions to overwhelm me as I weep into them. It’s not enough- I grab the pillow from behind me, slamming it against my face and using it to muffle my frustrated scream.

  I let myself just fucking sob for a few solid minutes, letting it all out. Then I collect myself, lowering the pillow, wiping the wetness from my cheeks, and swinging my legs over the side of the cot, resolute in what I need to do.

  There’s a painful tugging in my lower belly when I rise to stand, but for the most part, I’m all healed up, the gunshot wound quickly becoming a distant memory. Thank god for shifter healing, right? I definitely need a new shirt, though. The bloodstains on this one are more than a little off-putting.

  While protocol typically calls for checking out of the infirmary after an injury and getting the go-ahead from the doc on staff, I just slip out without telling anyone, swinging by my room to change my shirt before heading up to the roof.

  Because somehow, I know that’s where he’ll be.

  I grit my teeth against the dull pain in my belly as I grip the rusty rungs of the old utility ladder and climb up, an odd sense of numbness settling over me.

  If I’d actually received those messages from Madd, things could’ve been so different. My entire life could’ve been different. Instead, I endured years of pain, trying to heal from the worst heartbreak imaginable… for what? Because someone thought it’d be better that way?

  I’m not sure which is worse- knowing that Madd never meant to break my heart, or having it broken all over again by learning this now, after eight wasted years.

  I haul myself up the final rungs of the ladder, climbing off onto the rooftop as my pulse picks up tempo. I swear I can sense Madd’s presence before I even step around the big AC unit to see him sitting on the ledge looking out over the practice field, and I freeze in my tracks, just staring at his back for a moment as nervous energy skitters through me.

  “You tried to keep in touch.”

  He slowly turns to look over his shoulder, his dark blue eyes meeting mine. “So did you.”

  I suck in a sharp breath, my chest burning. I don’t know what to say, where to begin… so much damage has been done up until this point that this thing between us may no longer even be salvageable. But as we stare at one another across the rooftop, that magnetic pull between us stronger than ever, I know our story is far from over.

  “Come here,” Madd rasps, pulling his legs up and twisting around, kicking them out over the other side of the ledge.

  My feet move toward him almost on their own accord, and as soon as I’m close enough, Madd reaches out for me, pulling me in to stand between his spread legs and wrapping his strong arms around me tightly.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Sloane,” he croaks, hooking his chin over my shoulder and burying his face in my hair. “For all of it.”

  I melt into him, wrapping my own arms around his neck and losing myself in the heart-wrenching familiarity of his scent, his touch. “I know,” I whisper, carding my fingers through his unkempt hair.

  We just hold one another for a long moment until I’m climbing up into his lap, straddling his waist and pressing myself even closer to his chest- like if I let go, he’ll suddenly disappear.

  Eight years.

  All the longing, the heartache, the misery was for nothing. We were robbed of all that time together, and for the life of me, I can’t understand why.

  I finally pull away, leaning back with my arms still draped around Madd’s neck so I can look into his eyes.

  “Is there any way you can ever forgive me?” he asks, his voice raspy with regret.

  I tilt my head, studying his face. “That depends. Were you just being an asshole because you thought I ghosted you, or is that part of your personality now?”

  He hangs his head, shoulders slumping.

  “I’m only teasing,” I chuckle.

  Madd picks his head back up, shaking it defeatedly. “How can you joke around at a time like this?”

  “Because it’s either that or bawl my eyes out, and I’ve done enough crying over the last eight years to last a lifetime.”

  He winces at that, his grip around my waist tightening. “Fuck, Dutch, if I knew…”

  “Neither of us did,” I reply quickly, giving a little shake of my head.

  “When I find out who did this, they’re fucking dead,” Madd grumbles, squeezing me tighter. I feel every one of his emotions behind his grip on me- the possessiveness, the longing, the regret. That last one’s the hardest to swallow, because even though we just found out we’ve both been played, there’s no un-doing the hell he’s put me through over the past few weeks. The things he did inflicted much deeper damage than that gunshot today.

  I push it all out of my mind, not wanting it to taint this moment- because this right here is the reunion I dreamed of after I was shipped away to Denver; the two of us holding one another, refusing to let go. It’s the reunion we both deserved but were senselessly deprived of.

  Madd presses his forehead against mine, squeezing his eyes shut like he’s savoring this closeness as much as I am; our two jagged, broken hearts colliding, fusing to try to fill in the cracks. “What are we supposed to do now?” he asks, his eyes fluttering open to stare into mine.

  I sink my teeth into my lower lip, subtly shaking my head as I whisper, “I don’t know.”

  He heaves a sigh, running a hand up the curve of my spine. “Sloane, If I knew, I never would’ve said the things I did, never would’ve…”

  “Shh,” I hush, placing a finger over his lips to cut him off and leaning my face in closer to his. “Not now, Madd. Right now, I just… I want to forget the last eight years ever even happened.”

  I grind my hips down over his lap and his eyes blaze with the metallic shimmers of his wolf, peeking out at me through his irises. My own wolf rises to the surface to peek back, and I slide my hand from his face down to his chest, dipping lower until I reach his beltline. Then I lean in, whispering against his lips huskily. “Make me forget.”

  25

  The last time Sloane and I fucked on this rooftop, we were a couple of clumsy teenagers, ripping each other’s clothes off with desperate urgency.

  Now, eight years later, it seems we’re no different.

  As soon as she rolls her hips over my lap, my cock springs to attention like a heat-seeking missile, all my blood rushing south. Sloane Masters has ruined me for other women- she’s fucking perfection, and ever since she walked back into my life and gave me a taste of what I’ve been missing, I haven’t been able to look at anyone but her.

  It’s always been her.

  And that really pissed me the fuck off when I thought she’d spent the last eight years ignoring my existence. But now…

  “Make me forget.”

  Her lips brush against mine with every whispered word, and I grab her by the nape and yank her closer, capturing them with my own before she can change her mind. Our lips pout and twist, parting for our tongues to tangle as she grinds down over my rapidly hardening cock, chasing the friction of the ridge of it against her core.

  I should take my time with her. Make this count. But instead it’s like we’re thrown back in time, two horny teenagers frantic to get each other naked as quickly as possible.

  Within seconds of our lips meeting, we’re tearing at each other’s clothes in a frenzy to remove the barriers between our skin. Her shirt comes off first, followed by my own. Then I’m yanking up the band of her sports bra, her tits spilling out right into my hands as she tugs it off overhead. I give them a rough squeeze, murmuring my approval before lifting her off my lap and taking her in my arms. Shooting to my feet, I spin around to lay her down on the wide concrete ledge, lowering my face over her chest and sucking one of those perfect nipples into my mouth.

  Sloane’s curly dark hair pools beneath her head as her back meets the smooth surface of the ledge, my body hovering over hers. I swirl my tongue around her nipple, rolling the stiff peak between my teeth as a breathy gasp falls from her lips.

  “Madd,” she moans, sinking her fingers into my hair and tugging at the strands.

  Fuck, I love when she says my name like that.

  I release her nipple with a loud pop, lifting my head to look up at her gorgeous face. “Yeah baby?”

  “More,” she pants, arching up into me at the same time she tugs my head back down, shoving her tits right in my face. If she’s trying to suffocate me in her cleavage, I can think of worse ways to go.

  I lick my way over to her other breast, giving it the same treatment as the first- tracing the outline of her nipple with my tongue, then sucking it into my mouth, teasing the hard bud with my teeth as more needy little cries fall from her lips.

  Sloane has always loved it when I play with her tits. Back when we first started fooling around, I swear I got her off once on nipple play alone.

  Her legs wrap around my waist to draw me in closer as I continue worshipping her breasts with my hands and tongue. Our height difference puts me at a distinct disadvantage, because I can feel the heat of her core against my abs instead of where I really want it, my hard dick pressing painfully against the concrete underneath us.

  Fuck this.

  I give each of her tits one last kiss, one last squeeze, then rock back on my heels, rising to my knees over her.

  She looks like a fucking goddess lying below me, the top half of her body naked, tits shiny with my saliva and a flush crawling up her neck. Her lips are deliciously puffy, parted as she draws short, gasping breaths of anticipation.

  “Tell me what you want, Duchess,” I murmur, reaching down to roughly cup her pussy through her leggings.

  Her body jerks and she draws a short gasp.

  “Fuck me, Duke,” she breathes, those moss green eyes locking in on mine. “Fuck me until I forget. Fuck me like only you can. Fuck me like I’m yours.”

  My cock punches against my zipper, a growl rumbling in my chest. “You are mine, Sloane,” I drawl, leaning over her and wrapping my tattooed hand around her throat. I lower myself down until my face is hovering right above hers, our harsh breaths mingling. “You’ve always been mine.”

  Mine.

  My wolf echoes the word in my brain as I dip down to capture her lower lip with my teeth, tugging on it as she releases another sweet moan. I drag her lip between my teeth until it slips free, then tilt my head, stick out my tongue, and lick across the seam of her pouted lips. Her scent wraps around me like a drug- notes of vanilla, jasmine, and peach; a unique, intoxicating blend that’s so distinctly her that it makes my chest ache.

  I rock back again to kneel over her, eyes raking up and down her half-naked form. “Sorry, baby, I’m not gonna make you forget,” I grumble, grabbing onto her thighs and lifting them to wrap around my waist. I tug her closer, her back sliding against the ledge until she’s right up against me so I can grind my rock hard cock against her center. I meet her gaze, staring into her captivating green eyes intently. “I’m gonna make you remember who you belong to.”

  “Please, Madd,” Sloane pants, sliding her hands over her bare tits, arching her back as she squeezes them together.

  I untwine her legs from around my waist, leaning forward to grasp onto the waistband of her leggings and yank them down. The fabric gets tangled around my hands in my haste to get them off and they snag on her sneakers, a frustrated growl escaping me as I struggle to pop off her shoes and get rid of those damn pants. Once I finally wrestle them off and toss them away, my eyes return to her body, spread before me in all its naked glory, and I raise a fist to my mouth and bite down on it to stifle a groan at the sight of her.

  “Goddamn you’re sexy,” I mumble as my eyes map out every inch of her skin, pausing on the reddened, puckered flesh above her belly button.

  The gunshot wound.

  It’s mostly healed, but just seeing it, knowing what it was, sends a spike of pain ripping through me. If Jenkins wasn’t such a lousy shot, that bullet could’ve ended her life today. I lean down over her, running my fingers over the affected skin, pressing my lips against the mark.

  “I’m sorry this happened,” I rasp, kissing it again softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

  “Don’t,” Sloane hisses, picking up her head and shaking it. “Not now.” She buries her hands in my hair again and pushes my head down, lifting her hips to direct me between her thighs and showing me exactly how she intends to silence me.

  Not that I’m complaining. I’ve jacked off to the thought of burying my tongue between her thighs at least a dozen times since licking her taste from my fingers that day in the conference room.

  I slide down her body, pressing my palms to her inner thighs to spread her wider before diving in, dragging my tongue along the length of her slit.

  Sloane shudders a breath, her fingers tightening their grip on my hair as she lifts her hips, chasing my tongue.

  “You’re fucking delicious, Duchess,” I groan, nipping her pussy lips with my teeth. “Ride my face till you come, baby.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34