Page 51

His name on her lips sounds like it always has, expensive and empty. She’s standing in front of Nitro’s hospitality unit like she owns the place, wearing designer sunglasses and a smug little smile that hasn’t changed since the day she shredded what was left of his trust.

He doesn’t pause, answer, or even give her a second glance. He just strides past like she doesn’t exist.

Really, he wishes she didn’t.

Peony straightens. “Reece, c’mon.”

Before she can keep going, Petra opens the door and steps out of the building.

Her gaze lands on his ex, cool and lethal as always. She must’ve seen Peony from inside. “Piss off, scrub.” Her voice is sugar-laced acid. “You’re the reject no one wants to see.”

Peony bristles. “This is none of your?—”

“Save it. You had your shot. Go poison someone else’s pit lane.”

Reece doesn’t look back. He doesn’t need to. Petra’s got this, and she’s never pretended to like Peony.

He finds Maiken where he left her, lounging opposite Ona and still scrolling through her phone. She looks up and smiles, then studies him a second longer. Her expression shifts, and he knows that she knows some shit went down.

He reaches for her. “Ready to go?”

Maiken nods and stands, taking his hand and grabbing her bag. She glances at Ona, who hasn’t moved. “Coming with?”

“No. I’m gonna get a workout in.” Ona jerks her chin at Reece. “Seven thirty?” She means that’s when he’ll be awake. They’ll meet in the track fitness center by eight thirty. Same schedule they always keep on race weekends.

He salutes her. “Ay-ay, boss. Seven thirty.” He pulls Maiken through the suite, heading for the back door, rather than going out the front.

“Who’re we avoiding?”

“Tell you later.”

“Okay.”

They return to the hotel and as soon as their suite door clicks shut, Reece throws the latch, drops his backpack, and crosses to her.

He doesn’t say anything, he just grabs her, putting his hands on her waist, then her face, his mouth crashing down on hers like he’s starved for her, because he is. Not just for her body, but for the way she centers him, the way she makes the rest of the world fall away.

She gasps into the kiss, and he inhales it.

He steps her back until the wall stops them. Today she wore skinny plaid pants with a vintage pink blouse, and he goes to work on its buttons. “God, these fucking little buttons.” If she didn’t love her clothes so much, he’d rip the bloody thing open so he could get to her skin faster.

Maiken laughs. “Let me.” She takes over the task, making much quicker work of the top than he could. He runs his hands up her back and unhooks her bra. She lets him strip her, but covers her breasts and stops him with a hand on his chest. “Draw the curtains.”

His breath is ragged, and his voice comes low. “We’re twenty-one stories up.”

“Reece. I’m half-naked and we know a vindictive asshole who pilots drone cameras. Curtains, dufus.”

That knocks a laugh out of him, one that’s rough, dark, and a little unhinged. Reluctantly, he lets go of her and pulls the curtains across the slider. She stays where he left her and smiles against his mouth when he returns.

“Fuck. I need you.”

She tugs his shirt over his head and drops it. “I noticed.”

He doesn’t need a second invitation. He grabs her ass and lifts her. She wraps her legs around his waist, mouth moving against his neck, biting just enough to make him groan.

Reece carries her to the suite’s dining table and lays her out like a three-course meal, because he’s fucking starving for a taste.

His hands are everywhere — her ribs, her hips, her thighs.

Shoes? Gone. Followed by trousers and panties, then he kisses his way down her body, claiming her with every press of his lips.

When he gets between her thighs, she gasps and tries to squirm.

He holds her down. “No. Let me.”

She goes still, breath shaking, and moans when his tongue finds her clit.

He’s not soft or slow because this is pure, unadulterated need.

When Mai comes, she fists his hair and cries out, and he holds her through it, murmuring against her skin.

Reece doesn’t stop until she taps his hip with her heel. He pulls back just long enough to look at her, flushed and panting. “You okay?”

She nods. “Yeah, but you’re taking something out on me, and I need you to breathe.”

He freezes, staring at her like she just caught him mid-theft.

Maiken sits up and touches his face. “I can handle you, Reece, but not if you’re trying to punish yourself.” Her voice and expression are so tender, and she nearly breaks him with her care.

His throat works, and he closes his eyes. Then he nods.

When he kisses her again, it’s slower. Deeper. He’s still full of that aching need, but trying not to feel so frantic. He picks her up, carries her to the couch, and sits.

But Mai climbs off his lap, stands, and moves to the couch arm. “Come here and fuck me from behind.”

“Christ, Maiken.”

“Now, Reece.”

He doesn’t even bother to get his pants off. Just unzips and gets his cock out, then he enters her with a groan, pressing his face against her back. “Jesus, Mai…”

“Hard and fast.”

Fuck. It’s like in the car. She’s fearless and not at all worried he’ll shunt them into a wall.

Her trust in him is absolute and illogical.

Her willingness to surrender control gives him strength beyond anything he’s ever had.

And, yeah, he obeys his wife, fucking her hard and deep and ahead of the pace.

They move together, not perfect, not choreographed. Messy and raw. He tells her with every thrust that she’s it. She’s his. And this time, no one’s taking her away.

He comes with her name on his lips and his body covering hers. After he finally catches his breath, he picks her up, sits, and holds her close, eyes closed and heart thundering.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Mai kisses his temple. “And you didn’t break me, Reece.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“I know.”

The relief that floods him is immediate and visceral, like the moment after a huge shunt when you realize you’ve fucked the car but you’ll walk away.

Peony would’ve been put out by him needing her too much, but Maiken sees his desperation and meets it with acceptance.

She’s the Halo in the crash, protecting him with such strength and simplicity.

They sit there, heartbeats syncing, breath evening out. And when she brushes her fingers through his hair, he thinks he could stay like this forever.