Damaged Read online

  Her luscious scent made him want to come right then and there. Pushing the thought away, he stretched out between her legs. He ran a finger up and down her wet folds, a little deeper each time until the tip of his finger teased her sensitive clit, causing her hips to jerk. He pinned her in place with an arm across her hips.

  He sucked her little pleasure button and flicked it, making her squirm. His ran two fingers over her slick folds, and then quickly dipped them in before continuing to her rear. He circled the tight hole, tempted to break that barrier, but he knew it was too soon. So, he slid his fingers deep into her pussy instead while his lips, tongue, and teeth continued to play with her clit.

  She whimpered and cried out as her fingers dug into his hair, grabbing tightly, causing pain, clenching and unclenching. He moved down and licked the folds of her labia, his fingers continuing to drive in and out. Even though he held her down, her hips bucked against him, matching every thrust.

  At his limit, he couldn’t take anymore. His balls became so tight, his cock so hard, it was the most painful pleasure he’d ever experienced. She tugged on his hair, lifting his head up. Grabbing him under the arms, she encouraged him to move over her. He gave her clit a last lingering lick, savoring the taste, and rolled away from her, feeling his way in the dark for the nightstand drawer. He soon found what he was searching for and gave a silent thanks to himself for remembering to buy a new box. He ripped open the condom and rolled it down his length.

  Now on his back, his cock stuck straight out from his body. He grabbed her waist with both hands and lifted her up and over him. She settled, straddling his thighs, his cock brushing against her slick skin. She moved forward and slid her pussy along the length of him. The warm folds nestled his balls and rode along his cock until she slowed and paused when the head prodded her opening. She raised herself up, wiggling her hips until the crown lined up perfectly and the tip tucked into her wet heat.

  She had finished removing her shirt and bra while he encased himself in latex which allowed him to freely palm the weight of her breasts, pushing them together so the nipples touched. He snagged both tips and rolled them between his fingers and thumbs.

  She lowered herself with a moan, burying his cock deep within her. She writhed as he twisted and plucked her nipples The harder he pinched, the deeper she ground herself against him.

  He released her nipples to dig his fingers into her ass cheeks, controlling her movements, slowing her down for a moment before reaching beneath her from behind. Her wet folds spread wide, the delicate skin stretched as it engulfed his cock. He stroked a finger along the strip of skin between her pussy and rear, then circled his slick finger around her virgin hole. Once again, temptation pulled at him. He pressed against the tightness, just slightly, seeing if she would encourage him to take that next step.

  Her movements became frantic, squeezing his cock with her heated core. Shit, not only was she on the edge, he was too. He stroked her tight rim until she relaxed a bit, then made his move. He slipped a finger in, and she cried out as she convulsed around him, an orgasm rippling through her. With his finger deep in her ass and his cock even deeper within her, he let himself go. He came with a ferocity he hadn’t experienced in a long time while her inner muscles milked him dry.

  When she collapsed, he tucked her limp body against his. His heart pounded frantically, and his cock still pulsed. He slipped off the condom and wrapped it in a tissue. He’d get rid of it later because he couldn’t move even if he tried.

  Wiping a hand over his forehead, he blew out a shaky breath. That was un-fucking-believable.

  But before losing his fight with sleep, he realized neither of them had spoken a word.

  5

  The sun warmed her cheek. Why would she have fallen asleep naked in the park with her dog?

  Colby cracked her eyes open and found herself blinded for a second. Her childhood dog didn’t lie next to her. No. Mace did. She was on his bed, not in a park. But she certainly was naked. No doubt about that.

  An equally naked, but hairy, leg trapped her thigh and a heavy arm crossed her chest, pinning her to the bed. And one hand cupped her breast possessively. Sneaking a peek at Mace, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized he still slept, his breath softly escaping his parted lips in a steady rhythm.

  She had made a big—no, no, no, huge—mistake letting her emotions—more like her hormones—get away from her and sleeping with a man she only knew for three days. Okay, four now. Even so, she hardly knew him.

  She had promised herself she wouldn’t get into this type of situation again. Never again. But here she was…

  Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  She slowly eased out from under his arm. They both needed to forget about last night. She wasn’t ready to get involved with this man, or any other.

  She needed to escape his room before he woke. As she slipped from his hold, she smothered a groan. A little stiff and sore, she used muscles last night she had forgotten about or never knew she had. Just thinking about some of the moves they did made her body react all over again.

  Then she spotted the clock, and her heart stopped. 8:28!

  Shit! She had to be at work at nine. Not only did she have to shower and dress yet, it was a twenty-five-minute drive to get to campus.

  Unable to drag the sheet along with her without waking Mace up, she rushed down the hall with only her pile of clothes pressed to her chest. Once in the bathroom, she locked the door behind her and jumped into the shower.

  Her hair still damp, she pulled on her work clothes in a rush. With one shoe on, she attempted to slip on the other while racing down the hall, only to stop short at the sight of Mace leaning against the wall next to the stairwell.

  Wearing only his shorts, his bare chest made her breath catch. Were those teeth marks near his nipple? Damn, she remembered biting and licking and flicking her tongue along those tight, hard nubs.

  “Mace…” She cursed herself for sounding so breathless. Of course, it was because she was in a hurry and had nothing to do with the sight of his muscular pecs. Yeah, right.

  “Late?” he asked with a cocked brow, like he had nothing better to do than to watch her rush around like a fool.

  “More than late.” She finally got the troublesome shoe on her foot. When she straightened, she avoided his eyes. And everything else.

  “I wanted to thank you—”

  She started down the steps, tucking her blouse into her slacks. “Not now, we’ll talk later.”

  She didn’t mean to blow him off, but she had no time to chat if she wanted to keep her damn job. And she desperately needed it. Plus, she didn’t want to rehash what happened. Not now. Hurrying through the foyer, she snatched her briefcase.

  “I’ll make dinner,” he called down the steps. “What time do you get off work?”

  “Five.” She slammed the front door behind her. Standing on the stoop, she realized she forgot her car keys.

  The front door cracked open, and Mace’s arm reached out, her key-ring jingling on the tip of his finger. “I’ll have dinner at six. Don’t forget.”

  Colby snagged the keys and raced to her car, calling, “Okay! I’ll be there.”

  The scent of dinner immediately struck Colby when she opened the door. She was so freaking late. Not used to having someone waiting for her at home anymore, she hadn’t even thought to call the house. But, honestly, she didn’t realize he’d been serious when he said he would make dinner.

  After setting her briefcase on the foyer table, she kicked off her shoes to pad quietly down the hall to the kitchen.

  If he was angry, he had every right to be. Damn. She screwed up again. Unfortunately, it was becoming her life story.

  She peered around the doorway and saw the table set, the glasses filled with what looked like red wine and Mace nowhere in sight. The coast looked clear. For now.

  Colby stepped cautiously into the kitchen. Pots filled the sink, and a cookbook lay open on the counter. “Mace?”
/>   Silence.

  She compared her watch to the clock on the wall to make sure it was correct. It was. 8:15.

  “Damn, I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the empty room.

  “Not a problem,” came the deep voice behind her.

  Colby jumped, her heart stopping for an instant. She spun to face him, hoping he would understand, hoping…just hoping she hadn’t hurt him by standing him up. “Mace, I’m so sorry.”

  He lazily lifted one shoulder. “You already apologized.”

  “I should have called. I just didn’t think. I’m not used to coming home to—”

  “No big deal,” he cut her off as he brushed past her. When he reached the sink, he turned to face her. “Really.”

  She swept her arm toward the table, indicating the place settings and the now cold candle stubs. They must have burned for a while; wax had dripped all over the tablecloth.

  She couldn’t meet his eyes, though he didn’t seem angry, or hurt, but… “No, it was a big deal. I didn’t realize you would make a big meal. More than just spaghetti.”

  “I did.”

  “What?”

  Her gaze flicked to his face, but he abruptly turned to the sink and began to scrub the pots, putting a little more effort into it than necessary. “I made spaghetti. Whole wheat, by the way. With a white clam sauce and cheesy garlic bread. I kept some warm for you. Want it?”

  “Do…Do you want me to have some?” she asked carefully, trying to judge his mood.

  He smacked a wet pot into the drain pan. “Of course. I made it for you, didn’t I?” If he could make her feel any worse, he succeeded.

  “Yes, I’d love some. But let me go change. I’d hate to get sauce all over my work clothes.”

  “I’ll have it ready for when you come back down.”

  Colby raced up the stairs and changed in a flash. Dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and an old Elton John T-shirt, she hurried back downstairs.

  Mace sat across from her while she ate. And she finished every last piece of spaghetti on her plate. She complimented his cooking between mouthfuls of delicious pasta. She smiled between bites and kept the little conversation they had as light as possible. His mood seemed to loosen a bit, the effect she strove for. But she had to admit, the meal tasted great. And he’d been thoughtful enough to make the garlic bread out of a whole grain loaf.

  Before she could clear her own dishes, he brushed her hands away from her plate and had them washed, rinsed, and carefully placed in the drain pan.

  He was wonderful.

  Too wonderful. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop since she wasn't used to this controlled anger. She hurt his feelings, and she swore to herself she wouldn’t do it again.

  Colby poured herself another glass of wine. Sipping at it, she waited for him to make the next move. She wished he would scream at her for being late or so callous for not calling. She wished he would yell at her for something. But he didn’t.

  She was used to men expressing themselves loudly. She didn’t know how to deal with a man who brooded silently.

  Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it hadn’t been such a big deal after all. Maybe she only imagined the undercurrents between them. Maybe the unnecessary paranoia was all in her head…

  Maybe.

  Mace watched Colby refill her wine glass for the third time and wondered if she truly regretted missing his—their—dinner. He normally didn’t cook, but he wasn’t telling her that. And she hadn’t even seen the dessert he had stashed in the fridge yet. Yes, she apologized, but…

  When he sat alone at the dinner table at six, at seven, then until eight, he realized Colby had better things to do with her life than come home to a cripple. They had no ties, just some casual sex. And even then, only once. The woman had her own life to live.

  Most likely, she ate dinner before coming home. Maybe with her assistant Matt, or whatever his name was. She probably only ate his meal after seeing the table he had set and feeling sorry for him.

  Fuck if he would let her know how it had affected him. It was easier to just blow it off and pretend it didn’t.

  Though she was downing the wine right now, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. One would think after their amazing sex session last night, she wouldn’t need to get drunk to spend a little time with him. Maybe she had all day to think about how she didn’t want to be with someone who was damaged goods.

  The room had been dark last night; maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of fucking him again in the light when she could see his shortcomings. Whatever. He was a big boy, he could get over it.

  But when Colby suggested they go relax in the den, he picked up the half-empty wine bottle, grabbed his glass, and followed her. He stopped short in the doorway separating the kitchen from the den. What was he doing? Following her around like a lost, lonely puppy?

  He was about to turn around and leave when Colby patted the couch next to her. He obediently sat, placing the bottle on the coffee table. Look what a little sex could do to him. Make him a pussy-whipped, pussified pussy.

  And ripe for another letdown.

  “So, how does your leg feel?”

  Mace grimaced. His leg was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “A little stiff.”

  She turned toward him after putting down her glass. “Why?”

  “I started physical therapy again this morning.”

  “Physical therapy? Where?”

  Was she really interested? Or just trying to make small talk? “Community General.”

  “Will you go every day?”

  “No. Three times a week, but I have to work out here at home every day.”

  “Is it painful? No, don’t answer that, I know it has to be.”

  His fingers clenched around the stem of his wine glass. Goddamn it. He didn’t want her sympathy. “I don’t care. I want to walk. I want to be normal again. I don’t want to walk with a cane or a walker like an old man. I don’t want to be handicapped for the rest of my life. I need to redevelop my muscles as much as I can.”

  “You’re not handicapped.” She placed her warm fingers around his forearm.

  He studied the contrast of her delicate, white hand next to his darker skin. He said, “No? I feel like it,” with a little more force than was necessary. He shook his head and took a deep breath before continuing. “In my line of work, limping is a handicap.”

  “It’s not so bad.”

  He laughed, though he couldn’t keep the bitterness out. “I’m surprised you say that after you saw it last night.”

  Colby shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me.”

  “Well, it bothers me.”

  She squeezed his arm slightly. “Mace—”

  “Colby.” He hesitated for a split second before the rest of the words escaped in a jumble. “Will you help me with my physical therapy?”

  Damn. Even though he wanted her help, he didn’t want to ask her like this. Not after the dinner fiasco. Fuck, now he’d just have to hope she’d say yes.

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open before closing it to say, “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

  Well, it wasn’t a definite no. He figured working together would be good for her, for him. For them. He was just like her house: a work in progress, a project to tackle. “Come on, it’s not hard. Look, the hospital is only a few miles from the University. Why don’t you stop in on your lunch hour at my next session? My therapist would be glad to show you what to do.”

  He wanted—needed—her help. Hell, he wanted her in general. He needed to see her red hair spread over his pillow while he pounded her until she came. The small mewing sounds she made last night filled his head all over again. After wiggling into a more comfortable position for his growing cock, he blew out a long, slow breath, bringing his thoughts back to the topic at hand.

  At her continued hesitation, he decided it was time to pull out all the stops. “I’ll make you a deal. You help me out with my exercises, and I’ll help you out with
your house.” He knew she couldn’t resist that offer. His desire to walk normally was just as strong as her desire to finish her house. Whatever her reasoning. He raised his wineglass to her. “Deal?”

  After a moment, her glass rang against his. “Deal.”

  He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

  6

  “You know, tomorrow’s Saturday, and there’s a lot to be done at the house.”

  Mace lifted his head off the treatment table to see Colby beelining toward him. His heart thumped a little harder and a lot faster while he watched her slender figure work its way across the PT room. Relief at her actually showing up flooded through him.

  Robin, his physical therapist, finished the set of exercises with him before asking, “Is this the woman you want me to teach?”

  “Yep, that’s her.” He leaned over closer to his therapist and said in a stage whisper, “She’s pretty smart, she should catch on quickly.”

  “Hey, I heard that!”

  After Colby introduced herself to Robin, she shook hands with the older, heavyset woman and said, “From what I’ve seen so far, it doesn’t look hard.”

  He caught the rush of color up her neck and over the freckles sprinkled across her nose. He pointed his gaze at Robin, who was about three times Colby’s size and twenty years older, to keep from getting a huge hard-on.

  “It’s not. However, he should do a certain amount of exercises daily, and he needs help. It’s not easy doing it alone,” Robin admitted. “He’s an easy patient because he wants to get better, not like some others I’ve worked with. And if you forget anything, I’m sure he’ll remember. He knows the routine. His previous therapist did a good job.”

  “You know, I’m still in the room here. I may be crippled, but I’m not deaf.” Mace toweled the sweat off his brow. Some of it was from his PT and some…Well, he fought to keep his thoughts from the other night.

  Robin leaned over him to say, “You need to put a dollar in the jar for using the ‘C’ word again.” Luckily, the woman was all bark and no bite.