He had to steady her when she stood up, swaying, her body weak. "What did you want me to do, Mack? Hit you over the head with a two-by-four?"
"Yes, damn it, if that's what it takes. You don't walk out on me, Jaimie."
He kept his hand on her arm as she yanked up her soft drawstring pants. She was trembling. His palm slid up and down her bare skin as if to soothe her.
"I'm not the same person I was," she said, but even as she uttered the words, she wondered if she was lying. She fought hard to stand on her own, but the entire time she'd been building a future with the idea that Kane and Mack might need somewhere to go when they retired. They had to retire sometime, didn't they? Did any of them even have a future?
Mack framed her face. "Don't look so sad, Jaimie. We'll make it."
She wanted to believe that, but she'd seen the evidence stacking up against them and it was enormous. The GhostWalkers had enemies in their own camp. "I'm not like you, Mack. You rush in where angels fear to tread. You really do. You think you can save the world." She gestured toward the stairs. "Every single one of us--Javier, Kane, me, Rhianna--all of us were broken and you picked us up and fixed us. You'd charge hell with a bucket of water. Nothing scares you. Nothing at all. You just do it. Whatever is required. You get it done."
"Being without you scares me," he admitted in a low, reluctant voice. He kept his gaze fixed on her averted face. She was so elusive, just out of reach when they'd crawled into each other's souls. How the hell had she slipped away again?
Her head jerked up and she looked at him. He could read her shock, but didn't understand it. Hell. She'd ripped out his soul when she'd left. Her tongue touched her lower lip, drawing his attention to the sweet, sexy curve of it. He couldn't resist and leaned forward to catch the silken bow between his teeth, tugging gently before he kissed her.
Jaimie blinked up at him, that baffled, dreamy look he found utterly sexy on her face. She touched her lips. "I don't understand you, Mack. I asked you about our future and you said we didn't have one. You weren't ready for the old ball and chain."
There was enough raw hurt in her voice to make him wince.
"And when we had sex I could feel your emotions." Now her voice was strained, so low he had to lean into her to hear. "You were angry, but more importantly, you resent wanting to be with me. Resentment is powerful and it overshadows a lot of other things. There's no mistaking it. It's hard to understand our relationship when you're so resentful."
He shrugged. "I've never been one to want to need someone, Jaimie. How hard is that to understand? It's damned hard admitting to myself let alone you that I can't do without you. You're like some fucking addiction I can't get rid of."
She actually hunched, feeling the punch in her stomach. She swallowed the rising lump in her throat, determined to go all the way. If he wanted her to talk before walking out, then she was going to do it. "What about love, Mack? You've never once said you loved me."
He shoved a hand through his hair in a quick, almost angry gesture, his eyes glittering. "What the hell do you want from me? I just told you how I felt. A few minutes ago you were screaming my name and begging me not to stop. What we have together is good. Great. Can't we just leave it at that?"
"Except you want to be rid of me."
He threw his hands into the air. "Of course that's all you heard." He was the one who was always in control. He had discipline in every aspect of his life but one. Jaimie. There was no discipline with her. No restraint. He turned into an animal, a jealous, primitive beast he barely recognized. Was he supposed to be proud of that?
Just looking at her with her silky curls tumbling in disarray around her face, that mouth that was every man's fantasy, he closed his eyes, remembering how he'd taught her to use it for his pleasure. He'd taught her--everything. And Jaimie always gave herself to him without reservation. He'd been older, her protector. He knew she was smarter, but he could keep up with her intellectually and provide the stimulus she needed for her mind. The rest, well, frankly, he was the dominate one.
He'd always had the upper hand in their relationship. He'd always known he could walk away from her and be just fine. Until she'd left him. He realized how much he actually managed to fool himself. Jaimie's hold on him was impossible to break. He thought he owned her but it was the other way around. Hell, yeah, he resented it. What man wouldn't? No other woman would do for him.
No one had touched her before him. Two long years. He saw the way Spagnola had looked at her. Had Spagnola touched her? He couldn't ask. Didn't want to know. He was afraid of what he might do to the other man. Mack rubbed his pounding temples. What the hell was wrong with him? Hell, yeah, he resented that she could make him this crazy.
Jaimie shook her head. "We're back to exactly the same place we were before I left. You were fine there, Mack, but I wasn't. I don't want to base my entire relationship on sex. You can have sex with anyone. Women fall all over you."
"We don't just have sex, honey; we have spectacular sex. Come on, you have to admit, no one can do what I can to you--with you."
She shrugged. "I don't know that."
He went very still. Inside, something dark and dangerous moved, coiled and ready to strike. Every vestige of amusement was wiped from his face. He looked what he was, lethal and frightening as he stepped very close to her. "We have an understanding, Jaimie." His voice had gone very quiet again. Violence rode him hard. Aggression. All the characteristics that made him great at hunting prey stared out at her through his eyes, and he let it.
"Do we?" She stared right back, not wilting like the Jaimie of old.
He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and drew her to him. "Don't fuck with me about this. We're going to make it work."
"Has anyone ever told you that you don't have one romantic bone in your body?"
His gut knotted, hard, brutal twisting lumps of fear. "Is that what you need to be happy with me, Jaimie? Pretty words?"
Jaimie studied his face. His expression was a mask. Unreadable. But he was holding his breath. Actually holding his breath. If she didn't answer him soon, he was going to turn blue.
"I'd like you to say how you feel about me now and then, Mack. A relationship can only work so long built on sex. What happens if we can't have sex? Is it over for us? Do you just move on?"
He scowled at her. "How shallow do you think I am?"
"I'm looking for a partnership."
"You had that."
"Did I? You didn't listen to a word I said, Mack. You've always led and I followed, but not blindly. I went with you because you made sense. When you didn't, when we were walking into something dangerous, I expected you to talk it over with me first, to at least listen to what I had to say." She sat on the edge of the desk, barefoot, inhaling the scent of sex and his skin. She loved the way he smelled. Masculine and edgy, usually combined with sex.
She'd missed him. Missed everything about him. Especially the sex. And yet, their sex together, as great as it had been, had never been close to what he'd just given her. She'd missed that look in his eyes just before he kissed her. He was incredibly strong, but he'd never once hurt her, not even when they were making wild love and he seemed ruthless and out of control. His touch with her was gentle. She loved that about him, his care of her. Was she just wanting too much? Did she need too much?
Mack stepped into her, reaching for her thighs as if he owned her. As if he knew his touch made her weak. He spread her thighs and moved between her legs. Up close. He loomed over the top of her, making her feel small and vulnerable and fragile. She knew she wasn't, but he still made her feel that way. She'd always loved him. Now she couldn't look at him without craving him. She could taste him in her mouth, breathe him in her lungs.
"Mack." She whispered his name. A plea.
"I'm not letting you go, Jaimie. We'll work it out. Whatever you need. I'll figure it out. Just cut me a little slack. I'm never going to get over you walking out on me. You shook me up and I'm still dealing with it."
> "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.