Page 18 of Dark Seduction

“Bull shit,” she huffs, unable to meet my eyes.

“Admit it, babe. You like what you see.”

“Have you always been this full of yourself?” she asks, a smirk forming on her face.

I can't answer that question, because all I can see is the curve of her full lips and the way her face transforms when she smiles. My heart picks up the pace, and I can feel the desire building between us, an electric charge in the air.

"Do that again," I whisper, moving even closer to her, our bodies almost touching.

Her smirk falls away, and her breath hitches as my eyes hold her in place. "Do what?"

Reaching out, I place a hand against her cheek, tracing the seam of her lips with my thumb. "Smile. You're fucking gorgeous when you smile. Did you know that?"

Her face softens, and she presses her cheek against my hand, her eyelashes fluttering. "Stop," she whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice. Just desire, smoldering like an ember between us.

I lean in closer, my lips just inches from hers, the air charged with anticipation. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my distance when you look at me like that?" I confess, my breath brushing against her lips, my heart pounding in my chest.

Mack's gaze flickers to my lips, and in that moment, it's as if the world falls away, leaving only the two of us suspended in the tension of desire. Without hesitation, she closes the remaining gap between us, her lips meeting mine in a searing kiss.

It's a kiss filled with longing and pent-up emotions, a kiss that speaks volumes about everything we've left unspoken. Our bodies press closer together, and it's as if we've finally given in to the undeniable chemistry that's been simmering between us.

In that stolen moment, all doubts and misunderstandings are a distant memory. Nothing else matters beside this moment, right here. Her and I. The way her lips feel on mine. The hum of need escaping past her lips as her tongue slides against mine like satin.

The pact I had made with Burnt flashes through my mind, a solemn promise to put our friendship first and stay away from Mack. I’m betraying his trust right now, and I'm going back on my word.

But as Mack's lips move fervently against mine, I shove down my conflicted emotions and allow myself to get lost in this moment here with her. The way her body feels under my touch. The way her lips slide against mine. The way she moans, allowing me total control over her for just this one instant.

Curling my fingers into the waist of her coveralls, I push her back towards the nearest car, and she lets me, but as I’m about to press her against it, she rips her lips from mine and cries, “The paint! It’s still fresh!”

Her words wash over me like a bucket of cold water, dousing the flame between us.

“Backseat,” she orders, opening the door of the car. As much as I loved her letting me lead, when she takes the lead, my cock leaps inside my jeans. I don’t know who’s fucking car this is, but we’re about to make it’s backseat our bitch.

BURNT

"Thanks, man,"I mutter to the clerk at the hardware store as I pick up the box housing the odd-sized plumbing parts that finally arrived. Inside were two rough-hewn brass fittings, four inches of copper piping, and a spool of waxed thread. As much as they cost, you'd have thought they were diamond encrusted instead of simple brass, but if this would help get her shower back up and running so she didn't have to essentially take spit baths out of the kitchen sink or showering at the garage, it's worth the hour drive and the manpower I'd put into it.

Sending him a small wave with my free hand, I step out of the dimly lit store into the bright afternoon sunlight. If only Mack had known how hard it would be to find replacement parts for her shower in an old building like this one. The previous owner added it onto the smaller garage forty years ago so he could retire and tinker with his favorite toys—but then illness struck, leaving him no choice but to sell the property as is. Making it our problem child now.

Stowing the parts into the saddlebags of my motorcycle, I mount my ride. It's bright green paint sparkling under the sun. Green is not my favorite color, but when a friend of mine gifted me the bike back when I was fresh out of high school, I didn't balk at his generosity. Though, now with Mack's skills, it might be time to give the old girl a makeover. Straddling my bike, I put on my helmet before I hit the ignition and drive off towards Mack's apartment.

The old brick exterior comes into view an hour later. An old brick building with a garage and a second story apartment that was built in the early 1900s. The exterior has chipped and flaked paint, cracks in the mortar, and the metal awnings on either side are rusting. The uneven bricks on the façade give away the age of the place. It's a beautiful piece of history, don't get me wrong, but when it comes to repairing places like this, it's not as simple as it seems without having to gut the entire place. This place had withstood the test of time, and it shows it. The club had discussed when we bought the garage about what to do with the building, but with Mack living upstairs for the time-being, we'd tabled it.

The street is quiet as I coast my bike to a stop, and backing it up at an angle in front of the building. Taking off my helmet, I spot Mack's car parked in the first floor garage of the building. The space had been gutted by an old owner, exposing the aging brick walls, but a manual garage door still worked even after all these years. I had wanted to call ahead, but I didn't have her number. With it being Saturday, I'd taken a chance that she'd be home. Looks like my gamble paid off.

I shift off my bike, picking up the parts that I had bought for her, and climb up the stairs towards Mack's door. With all that weight in my hands, I juggle them as I tried to knock three times. No noise came from inside.

"Mack, you there?" I call out. Still no response.

One of the brass fittings slips from my grasp and hits the wooden floor with a thud, followed by another one dropping soon after. Groaning, I sit all the parts down by her door and knock again.

My heart beats faster in my chest. I pound on the door with my fist and then try the knob to see if it's unlocked, but there's no give. 'Mack,' I call out. 'Mack, are you in there? It's Burnt.' I don't want to assume something more sinister because Mack is a strong woman who can take care of herself, but something in the pit of my stomach tells me that something isn't right.

I pull out my phone and fire off a text to V.

Do you know where Mack is? Came by to fix her shower, but she's not here.

The message sits unread for several minutes.

---