Page 69 of The Spare (The King Dynasty #2)

Chapter forty-three

I Need You

"I can't believe I got the job!" Melody whoops as she steps out into the night air. Max and I both laugh as her joy is infectious.

She talks our ears off about it the entire drive home, wondering what all she's going to start off baking.

Her first day is Monday next week. She goes on and on and on from the backseat, her face lit up in the light of her cell as she no doubt looks up recipes on her phone.

Sure enough, a YouTube video begins to play with a technique on how to make a rum soaked cake with a complicated sounding filling.

Thankfully Maximus keeps her occupied because I'm slowly being cooked to death in the driver's seat.

Getting uncomfortably hotter one degree at a time until I'm in a oven of red-hot lust with seemingly no relief in sight.

I swallow thickly against my dry throat, not even sure I could talk if I wanted to.

One thing I've noticed, Maximus is a very patient man. He's patient about everything. Driving, holding a conversation. He moves with ease through the world, a man unbothered.

I don't share these characteristic traits.

So, I gun it a lot faster than I normally would. Because I need to fuck her.

"Make love to me?" she'd asked earlier in the day, and it's been way too long since her request.

What if she doesn't remember? So yes, I've got to get us home .

We pull onto Maximus' property in record time, and I jump out into the cool night air, ignoring his quizzical look at me as I round the car to their side and open her door. Pulling her out.

"Goodnight, Max," I call over my shoulder, pulling her along with me, still droning on about some recipe.

As soon as we make it to our bedroom I close and lock the door and take her phone, tossing it onto the dresser and slanting my mouth over hers, ceasing her talking with a deep kiss.

"Stop talking, and take off your clothes," I rasp, pulling away from her and stride to the terrace doors and open the curtains.

I throw the doors open to our terrace on the ground floor, filling the room with the perfectly humid night air that smells like lemons, thanks to the abundance of citrus trees planted throughout the property. When I turn, she's already slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

My eyes darken as it pools to the floor at her feet.

My cock, already stone hard, throbs and tightens even more as she steps out of the garment and makes her way slowly to me.

Her white-tipped toes tease me, as does the little ankle bracelet she wears.

My eyes rise to the perfect triangle of her bare pussy, and I'm momentarily stuck in place, not sure whether to sink to my knees before her or pick her up into my arms.

My hands twitch at the dilemma. That's how fucking wrapped around her finger she's got me.

"Mason, are you okay?" she asks, her eyes going wide.

I can see why, because I can't move. Her beauty has me paralyzed.

"No. I don't like it when you keep your body from me, butterfly," I answer, my eyes flicking to hers. "I've been suffering, love."

Not that we've been together long enough for her to know that information, but still, I try to make her see just how badly she affects me when she withholds from me emotionally, sexually. It destroys me from the inside out because she's my safe place.

Without her, I am nothing.

Wetting her lips, she gets a rather sheepish look on her face, ducking her head and then pulling her arms across her torso in a bid to hide from me.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I just got so upset."

Nodding, I clear my throat. "That's alright, baby, but… I missed you. So, I'm going to fuck you all night, or at least until I feel better. Because I was upset, too."

Her eyes rise slowly to meet mine, but she stays silent as I flick her hair behind her left shoulder, spanning her ribcage with my hands and bending down to take her nipple in my mouth, sucking hard. Her hands fly up to my hair, and she stands on her tiptoes with a moan, arching into my mouth.

I pick her up easily, making her wrap her legs around my waist. "Are you wet?"

"Yes," she gasps. "Shut up and fuck me, Mason."

"Oh, you're getting fucked. You don't even need to ask, baby."

I pull away from her breast and straighten my spine, looking down into her eyes as I line my cock up with her warm, wet entrance and lower her on top of me.

Her pretty mouth parts, letting out an even prettier gasp of air.

I grab her ass with my hands and pull her onto me slowly, rolling my hips into her and beginning to rock us.

Everything in my body shifts back in alignment as we become one for the first time since we've moved here to Cali. I missed her so much, and my eyes prick with the force of my emotion. As do hers.

Her eyes well up, and she nibbles her bottom lip, her eyes going hooded with desire .

"Mason, please be gentle tonight…" she says, tilting her head back as I begin to move us, slowly. Purposefully.

Overcome, I place my forehead to her chest and just hold us together. Not moving, or trying to race to some finish line. Breathing. Settling. Feeling. Just existing and merely wanting to connect with my wife.

"I'll be gentle, so don't worry," I whisper against her skin, licking her from her breastbone up her throat until I get to her mouth and kiss her like my life depends on it. I roll my hips into hers lazily, taking my time. Just like I'm going to ride her tonight, nice and slow.

Her body becomes dewy, and a flush enters her face and travels down her neck to her chest. Her pink lips part as her brows furrow, and I can tell she's immediately regretting her request by the way her throat bobs, and her beautiful brown eyes go to mine.

I know her well enough by now to know when she wants more.

"No," I say, tilting my head. "We said slow, Melody."

"Harder!" she whimpers, beginning to squirm against me.

I shake my head, chuckling. Walking towards our bed I pull back the sheet and lay her down "No. We agreed."

It's hours before I stop, both of us boneless and spent. And even then I keep my cock lodged inside her balls deep, unwilling to part from her. We sleep tangled up in one another. Exactly how I crave.

As one.

The next afternoon, Melody yelps, gulping as the tattoo needle strokes across her flesh and tears of pain well in her eyes, threatening to overflow. "Oww," she complains.

I smile, gripping her free hand as the tattoo artist stays bent over her hand where she's having my signature tatted from her wrist to the base of her thumb.

"Almost done," I murmur, giving her fingers a kiss.

She gives me a shaky smile. "Does it look good?"

I look down, grinning. "It looks perfect."

"I start Monday morning at the bakery," she says in an awed voice before getting a little goofy smile on her face.

I chuckle into my fist, my eyes lighting up at her joy. I doubt she even notices this is her twentieth time saying that since she got the job two days ago.

"It sounds like a dream come true, baby." I indulge her, egging her on in her happiness. The only other subjects I've heard her speak in this kind of tone about have been track and, well….me.

My heart skips a beat at the knowledge that there's a person in this world who loves me for me. Despite my flaws, my sarcastic wit, and oftentimes overpowering temper. My fucked up family. She loves me in spite of it.

And her love is more than I could have ever asked for.

The tattoo artist finishes, smearing her with gel and then wrapping her tattoo in plastic.

We pay, walking out of the shop and strolling down the sidewalk to our car, pretending to not see Dante and Stephen tailing us a few feet behind.

There are a couple more men milling about with their eyes on us, courtesy of Luca, but I don't tell Melody .

Her phone rings, and she pauses, stepping to the side to dig in her purse for it. Holding it up to her ear she gets a wide smile on her face. "Hey, Daddy."

I swear, her dad coming along was the unexpected plot twist we all desperately needed. Taking advantage of the break, I pull out a cigarette and light up, my brows furrowing as she blinks and gets an irritated look on her face.

"You did what?" she says in a hushed, furious voice. Her mouth sets in a hard line, and I reach forward to touch my hand to her arm. She steps closer. "She's there?" Uh oh . Her jaw clenches. "I don't want to talk to her, Dad. Yeah, I know it's been over a month. I'm not dumb! "

I blow out a plume of smoke, ignoring the judgmental look of a woman passing by.

Melody scrunches up her face and huffs a deep breath. I pull her into me, wrapping her with both of my arms and rocking her while she finishes her conversation.

When she hangs up, I snuff the cigarette out and then throw it in a bin, taking her hand as we resume our walk to our car.

"What's up?" I ask, but I don't need to. I already know.

She squints against the setting sun on the horizon. "Mom's in town. She's at Dad's."

I scoff and open her car door, letting her slide in. We've got a new car with the top down to really embrace Cali life. "Let me guess, she just showed up?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't sound like your mom, love."

I climb in the driver’s side, starting it and looking in the rearview mirror until I see our security smoothly pull out, holding up traffic for us to pull in front of them .

"I know."

"Are you going to talk to her?"

Her mouth tightens in a line, and she turns her face away, looking at the waves crashing along the coast as we drive past. "Well it'd be really fucked up of me if I turned her away after she flew all the way here. But if you're asking me if I'm going to accept an apology… I don't know."

I nod, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.

Twenty minutes later we arrive at Maximus' place, and she gives me a pointed look as we park right outside the front. "We need our own house," she grumbles, looking put out for the first time since we've moved here.

And that's saying a lot because she was mad at me for those first few weeks until we made up.

"We've been looking. You've told your dad that, right?"

She nods, and though Maximus denies it, I feel we've outstayed our welcome.

Despite all the space, it'd be nice to have our own place. I squeeze her hand and open the car door. "Let's get this over with. We can soak in a nice tub with some wine when it's all over. But we need to get this over with."

I know I'm one to talk, having ignored Hendrix’s and mother's calls since I've been here in California, but as her husband, maybe I need to start leading by example. I suck in a deep breath when she closes the car door with a slam and put a hand to her shoulder.

"Hey, butterfly," I say hesitantly, catching her eyes. "Do you think…" I trail off, suddenly losing my nerve.

Her eyes widen, and she puts a hand to my cheek, caressing me. "Do I think what?"

"Do you think maybe we can call my mother after we talk to yours? Maybe tonight? "

She gives me a sad smile, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips to mine. I wrap my arms around hers, deepening it. "Of course we can."

I nod, and we make our way into the house and through to the den where Maximus stands across from Donna, who's looking rather teary-eyed. Pablo's sitting next to the baby grand in the far corner of the room, out of earshot with his face averted.

Melody twists her lips as Donna turns and catches her eye.

Donna's face contorts as she sniffs, her eyes slightly bloodshot.

She smooths her hands down her royal-purple silk dress and takes a few hesitant steps towards us.

Tears stream down her face before she lets out a gasp and full-on runs to us, colliding with Melody, who buries her face into her neck and squeezes her hard, now crying, too.

"I'm so, so sorry, honey," Donna sobs. "Will you please forgive me? Don't hate me forever; I can't stand it!"

Stepping away cautiously I shake my head, fighting against the sting in my eyes. Wishing more than anything I could have a moment like that with my father, but it doesn't seem like that's in the cards for me.

Leaving them to it, I make my way over to Maximus and cast him a look, my brow rising, seeing his eyes are red-tinged as well, like he'd been crying.

"Are you okay, Max?" I ask gruffly, folding my arms and turning to the side a bit, averting my face from the two women. I see Melody pull away and then step away from Donna, whose face falls as Melody shakes her head and holds up a hand.

"Hmhm," he grunts, clearing his throat before turning and walking completely out of the room, through the accordion glass doors and into the gardens outside the den.

My brows rise at his sudden departure. Damn.

Hearing the women crying, I pull out my phone and text Hendrix .

Melody's rejection and Donna's tears affect me more than I care to admit. The fact our family is so fractured in so many different ways cuts me deep and causes me to make concessions where I can. And I think I can start with my sibling.

I'm sorry I've been ignoring you. Let's plan some time this week to talk. I have a lot to catch you up on. Please give Izzy, Mariah and the baby our love. -Mason