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Ross 03 Leave Me Breathless(50)

By:Cherrie Lynn

“The things we do for love, right?” Brian said.

If only she knew that’s what this was. She knew how she felt, but she wasn’t foolish enough anymore to call it love when she had no idea if it was reciprocated. “I wonder if maybe I should’ve thought this out a little more.”

“Sometimes the spontaneous decision is the right one.”

“I guess so. He really wants to see me, then? You didn’t just say that?”

He cut her a glance beneath his black ball cap. “Like I’d let you walk into that. Come on. He’s more worried that you’ll never want to see him again.”

“I never meant to drag you and Candace into this. That was exactly what I didn’t want.” And one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted to get into this whole thing to start with. No matter, though. She was in it. She was in it up to her eyeballs.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“He doesn’t know we’re coming?”

“Not at the moment. Do you want him to?”

She remembered that night at his house, staying awake until the sun came up, talking and laughing and arguing and having earth-shattering sex. How earnestly he’d talked about his music and how much she could tell he would’ve liked her to be there for his show. Brian had said they would probably be too late to catch the set, but if Seth still wanted her, she’d come to every damn gig he had from now on to make up for it.

“No,” she said, allowing a little smile at the thought of his face when he saw her there. “Let’s surprise him.”


“So when are you going to marry my best friend?”

He laughed in surprise, suddenly looking adorably embarrassed as perfect dimples appeared on his cheeks. If it weren’t dark already, she would swear he was blushing. “You’re all right with that, huh?”

“Well, not that you need my permission or anything, but yes, I’d be very all right with it.”

“I appreciate that. Never really thought you were crazy about the idea.”

“I’m sorry if I ever gave you that impression. To be honest, yeah, I didn’t know about you at first. But that was strictly me being a shallow bitch.”

“No, that was you looking out for your friend. Which is admirable.”

“I’m really glad she has you.”

He smirked. “Think you could talk her parents into feeling the same way?”

“Oh, don’t worry about them. Either they’ll come around or they won’t, and if they don’t, they’re fools. You never answered the question, by the way.”

“Mace, I’d marry her tomorrow if I could. But we want to do everything right, not rush into anything. Be carefree and spontaneous and without responsibility for a while.”

It was a foreign concept to her, a future she’d never envisioned for herself, and not even for Candace when the two of them would sit up late at night and romanticize about their dashing future husbands and their three to four perfect kids. Candace had more or less abandoned the fantasy with ease. Macy didn’t know if she could do the same. She’d always been about responsibility and drive and her life clicking along at the perfect pace, the next logical step being finding someone with equal drive and determination to settle down with.

If the past few weeks had shown her anything, it was that there would be no settling down with Seth Warren for a long time, if ever. He was a whirlwind. There would be no domesticating that one.

But here she was, chasing him like a lovesick fool. At least tonight would probably let her know if there might be a future with him at all, whatever it entailed.

Dammit, she’d gone from gnawing her thumbnail to her index finger now. She was going to ruin her entire manicure before they got there.

How Ghost made it through the show without bashing his guitar upside Mark’s head would be a mystery to ponder until the day he died. The answer probably lay in the mass quantities roaring through his bloodstream, and the fact that he spent most of his time onstage avoiding Raina, who kept coming too fucking close to him, wanting to sing into his mic on their shared vocals.

At the end of it, he made his feelings on the entire situation clear by bashing his guitar against the drum platform a dozen times instead, not caring which direction the shrapnel flew. He thought he’d caught a piece above his eye, but who the fuck cared. He took great satisfaction in feeling the stunned aftermath as he stormed off the stage.

Now. Get somewhere before you pass the fuck out. Damn good thing he’d decided in the end not to swallow the shit Gus had slipped him earlier; he’d probably be dead. He staggered down a short, too-bright hallway and veered into the first open door he saw with darkness beyond. Immediately he slammed his shin on something and nearly toppled over. “Shit!”

His hands met cushions as he caught himself and, realizing the offending object was a couch, he groaned and plopped down on it, stretching out along the length and burying his face in the back cushions. Darkness. Yes. No telling what past transgressions had transpired on the slightly foul-smelling piece of furniture, but at the moment he couldn’t give less of a shit. It was soft and horizontal. That was all he required.

When the door clicked shut behind him, he said a silent thank you to the considerate fucker who had bathed him in blessed darkness, and contemplated unconsciousness.

A hand, small and gentle, slid down his sweat-slick arm. Beyond the fingertips he felt the hardness of long nails. A grunt left him, and he jerked away. Leave me the fuck alone.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked. He didn’t know if he heard it or dreamed it, hovering in the gray between awake and oblivion.

“Go away,” he said all the same. His voice sounded like his throat was made of gravel.

It didn’t go away. That soothing hand kept right on rubbing, exploring his back, just barely squeezing his arm, his neck, moving downward until it grazed his bare side where his shirt had ridden up a bit. It slipped under to score his flesh lightly with those nails. Something strangely familiar about that. Familiar and…oh yeah, fucking hot. His dick twitched and swelled. He groaned. He thought of Macy. Her soft hair. Her smell. Sinking into her wet heat. Vanilla filled his head, almost as if she were here with him.

Strong, sure fingers rubbed his erection through his jeans, and he lost his breath, grinding into the touch. A sigh escaped from somewhere behind him. It turned into words. “I missed this so much.”

He missed her. Oh fuck, he missed her. Even through the dense fog in his head, he saw her face. He couldn’t even drink enough to make her go away. What kind of hell was that to be in? What the fuck did he ever do to deserve to go there?

Soft, cool lips brushed his neck. Warm breath tickled his ear. He thrust hard against the hand rubbing his now rock-hard cock, and before he knew it, those deft fingers had freed him.

Whoa, fuck, what was happening? Jerked out of his funk, he jacked up off the couch and grabbed whoever-it-was by her arms. Yes, definitely female. A surprised gasp sounded. He’d heard it a thousand times before, when he sucked on her nipple rings or her pierced clit or thrust hard into her always-willing pussy.

Raina. Motherfucking Raina with her hands on him.

It was no wonder all his thoughts were sex-oriented; he was so hard it hurt. But it wasn’t because of her crazy ass.

“What in the fuck are you doing?” he demanded. She wrenched her shoulders out of his grip and tried to push him back down. He wasn’t going—or so he thought. His uncoordinated muscles said otherwise, and she managed to get him halfway reclined again and her fishnet-covered leg swung over his hips. Her splayed hands slid up his chest.

“Fuck me, Ghost. Oh, God, I’m so wet for you. You remember how it was, don’t you, baby? No way that piece of rich-bitch pussy gets you off like mine did.”

Oh, shit, she did feel good smearing against him. It would be so easy, and who the hell was there to care? He grabbed her wrists and wrenched them behind her back, capturing them both in one hand. A strangled growl tore from her throat; she loved that.

“Yes! Baby…oh, please. Please. Come into me.” He stared up at her shadowed, frantic form as she tried to squirm into position without the use of her arms. “I love you so much. Let me love you.”

He believed her. Putting pressure on the small of her back, he brought her down over him. Her hot, wet mouth fastened to the side of his neck. He growled, waiting…she was a biter. And a scratcher, and a slapper when she really got carried away. Yeah, she’d whacked him more than once in their wilder, rougher escapades. There was a reason he’d had a thing about pinning Macy’s hands down. Not that she would ever do that, it had sort of just become his thing. Especially with her.


Raina’s teeth scraped at his skin, but only for a moment. Her throaty voice poured seductively into his ear, raising gooseflesh on his arms. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. I’m only yours. This is only yours.” Her wetness slicked over him…she’d already lost her panties before she’d climbed on top of him, if she’d been wearing any to start with. “Only yours. Take it.”


Just his utterance of her name seemed to set her off again. Her wrists tugged sharply against his hold, but he tightened it, and she wasn’t going anywhere. “Let me touch you. I’m here, baby, you know I’m the only one who’s always here for you. Right? Don’t you know that?”