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“No, I don’t, and I wouldn’t give it to you if I had.” The line goes dead again, and I can’t say I blame the guy. I consider calling him back just to piss him off, but I leave him alone. His involvement in all of this is already going to cause some shit.
Instead, I call Bowser as he’s always good with this techy crap. “Hey, I need you to track a phone,” I say when he answers. It’s clear I’ve disturbed him from his gruff tone, but I don’t give two fucks.
I give him Roxanne’s number and within five minutes I have a rough vicinity to search for her. It’s narrowed down by the number of phone masts in the area but not an exact location.
I drive around the area and get lucky when I spot her car. Eventually, after searching for Airbnb places in this road, I find her.
I could knock, but where’s the fun in that, plus I’m kind of fucked off right now, so lock picking it is.
It doesn’t take me long to open the front door, and to anyone watching it would look like I was just fumbling with my key, not that I really give a fuck. The mood I’m in and with the blood still splattered across my knuckles from Axel, you’d have to be certifiably insane to approach me.
I step inside, closing the door behind me. It’s a nice place, but she’s not staying here. I’m not quiet as I walk through the house, and by the time I reach the top of the stairs, I already know she’s heard me. I heard her too.
There’s only two bedrooms up here, and the first one is directly opposite the stairs and empty. Turning to the right, I move toward the second bedroom. Pushing the door further open, I step inside.
It’s the slightest sound from behind me that gives her away, and as I spin to face her, she swings at me. I duck, side stepping as she comes again. This time, I grab her before she can even swing whatever the fuck it is she’s wielding.
“Calm down, Roxanne,” I whisper in her ear, and I brush my lips against her neck, unable to resist the lure of her sweet-smelling skin. It’s been fucking years since I was this close to her, and it has my body going fucking crazy. Just like the other night in her kitchen and again in my office, my cock is like a fucking steel rod.
I feel the shiver that runs down her body, and I bask in it. But it’s broken almost as quick as it came when she stomps her foot down on top of mine, catching the bridge just right, and pain radiates all the way up my calf.
“Calm down! Are you fucking insane?” she yells, pacing back to the bed and putting the small lamp she was holding down. I see some of the fight go out of her and her breathing level out now she knows there’s no threat. “What the fuck are you doing here, and how the hell did you find me, Maddox?”
“Get your shit together, you’re coming with me,” I tell her as I find the light and switch it on.
“Like fuck I am!” she seethes.
When I turn back to her, I’m not prepared for the sight that greets me. If I thought my dick was hard before, now it’s fucking granite. She’s wearing a black silk babydoll nightie with sheer lace covering her breasts, which does nothing to hide her peaked nipples, that barely reaches the top of her thighs.
I fight back a groan and the need to adjust myself as her reply finally makes it to my lust fogged brain.
“Get dressed, Roxanne, or I’ll carry you out as you are. After the shit evening I’ve had, you don’t want to test my fucking patience.” I watch her nostrils flare and eyes darken as she stalks toward me.
“Go to hell, Maddox!” she says, spitting the words at me like darts, and I can see she means every single one. She hates me, as well she should, but I know there are other feelings running parallel.
Standing toe to toe, her eyes scan my face, and I see the moment something catches her attention, and I realise there must still be some blood splatters on my face. In the next few seconds, I watch as she wars with her need to check I’m okay and not hurt and her rage at the thought of what I was doing before I arrived here.
“Not my blood, Tinks.” She gasps as her nickname falls from my lips so fucking easily, and I love how natural it feels to say it again. The nickname I gave her after she made us watchPeter Panone day, and I realised how much she’s like Tinkerbell. I reach out, tracing my thumb over the barely visible scar on her chin, which she received after falling from a swing when she was 14, before gripping it and tilting her face up to mine.
Her eyes are glassy and swirling with emotions as I lean closer to her mouth, almost touching her lips with my own.
“Get dressed before I take you right fucking here and show you who you belong to.” I slam my lips to hers, cutting off any retort. Her lips are firm against mine, but slowly they soften, allowing me to slip my tongue inside her warm, sweet mouth and taste a hint of cherries. As desperate as I am to fuck her, I pull away, breaking the kiss and spinning her round.
“Clothes, Roxanne,” I say, slapping her on the arse. She lets out a breathy yelp at the sting on her bare skin. “You have ten minutes. I’ll be downstairs,” I tell her as I leave.
Downstairs, I adjust my rock-hard cock and pace the hallway. I hold back the urge to punch something because this is not how I planned things to go. I shoot a text to Zak to give him a heads up we’re going to have a guest. I hear Roxanne coming down the stairs just as his reply comes through, and I’m thankful to see she’s wearing clothes. I’m still holding my phone and more than a little tempted to snap a picture of the pissed off look on her face, but I don’t and shove my phone back in my pocket.
When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she doesn’t even look at me, instead pushes passed me and heads for the small galley kitchen.
I follow her and lean against the door frame and watch as she begins loading shopping bags with food from the fridge and cupboards.
“What the fuck are you doing?” She ignores me, and I step forward, snatching the bag she’s holding from her hand. All patience lost and needing to get the fuck out of here, I drop the bag and pick her up, throwing her over my shoulder.
I march toward the front door, snatching up the small bag she carried downstairs, while Roxanne kicks her feet and slams her fists, which might be small but pack one hell of a punch, into my back. I narrowly miss getting a kick to the nuts as I spot the house keys on a table by the front door and snatch them up. As soon as we step outside, she starts screaming, and I quickly lock up and post the keys through the letterbox. Once my hands are free, I slap her hard on the arse, expecting it to shut her up, but all it does is send a signal to my already straining cock, and when a moan escapes from her, I almost shoot my load in my boxers like a fucking teen. Lights come on over the road, and I catch sight of the curtain twitching as I move down the path to my car.
Yanking the passenger door open, I drop her into the seat and reach over her to grab the seatbelt before clicking it in place.
“I fucking hate you, Maddox Lawler,” she says coldly, folding her arms across her chest. I let out a chuckle and give her a wink as I close the door.
