Page 2 of Madd Love

I just put the chicken puffs in; that gives me about twenty minutes.

I shove my phone into the pocket of my pants and head toward the back door in the kitchen. My staff is swirling around the space as I take a deep breath and open the door.

I don’t know why I always feel nervous when we hook up. This has been going on for a while. But the man still gives me butterflies. Those butterflies don’t understand this is strictly business…of the orgasm variety.

Ever since that first night we hooked up at that dive bar. God, he looked so good that night. Leather jacket and sunglasses even though he was inside, except he can pull that shit off and not be douchey. He can thank his rock star status for that. But Maddox Case is a guy’s guy, a man’s man, and a woman’s dirty fantasy.

Men want to be him, and women want to bewithhim.

I can close my eyes and see that night as clearly as if it’s happening now—his tattoos peeking out all over the place. I was a goner, and I knew it. I also knew when I saw him that we were going to happen. I told the girls it was just once, but then the man sent me flowers for days until I answered his call one night. He wanted a repeat, and well, who was I to turn down a good thing? I just happened to keep that rendezvous to myself and the next one and the next one, and well, you get the picture. I just never managed to tell my girls that wekeephappening.

I scan my surroundings, but it’s still hard to see anything because it’s dark beyond this deck since it has uplighting. “Baby girl,” his pet name for me, curls my toes in my sensible chef’s shoes. His voice is an aphrodisiac, and it’s melodic and does things to my body, like make my nipples pebble, my panties wet, and my toes curl.

How the fuck did I ever think I could resist this man? He’s the pied piper of pussy. One whispered word from his perfect mouth with a perfectly timed “good girl” or “baby girl,” and I’d fall over a cliff to my death.

But he’ll never know what control he holds over me. I can’t let that happen. He’s already got the world’s most enormous ego. He knows what he looks like and just exactly how famous he is, and that man uses it all like weapons against me.

I always liked a bad boy, and I don’t know why. Bad boys are fun, but they break your heart. “Where the hell are you?”

A chuckle sounds in the darkness, and I’ve listened to enough murder podcasts to know this is a crime waiting to happen. “Come down the steps.”

“Come down the steps to your death, Jen,” I mutter under my breath as I head down the stairs.

Once I get to the bottom, there’s another deck off to the right side. A few lights shine from the curtained windows on this level, but otherwise, it’s dim.

A hand grabs me, and I can’t help but jump. As I’m about to scream, a hand covers my mouth, and my back is pulled into a hard, warm body. That now-familiar leather and rosewood scent that is distinctly Maddox wraps around me.God, he smells so freaking good.

“Shh, I’ve got you. Let me make you feel good.”

Yes, please.I nod in agreement, and the man moves lightning quick.

Forgotten is the fact that I’m outside my best friend’s house, and forgotten are the chicken puffs and the many celebrity football players and their families mere feet away. I close my eyes as his hand moves from my mouth to my neck and squeezes slightly. He knows how I love a somewhat possessive grip on my throat.

It’s my weakness in romance novels. If the hero possessively squeezes the heroine’s throat, that damn book is getting a five-star review from me.

The image in my head of that tattooed hand wrapped around my throat makes me even hornier. His other hand slides down my stomach and lifts my jacket out of the way. I help out and hold it for him; it’s the least I can do.

“So helpful.” He chuckles quietly, and dammit, even his laugh is sexy.

He works his free hand down the front of my stretchy pants and slips his fingers underneath the band of my underwear.Elastic is my friend! My stomach contracts, and chills erupt over me as he presses on my clit.

“Mmm,” I moan, instantly wet as he rubs my clit in perfect fucking circles.

His deft fingers are working me into a frenzy and fast. I want to say that I feel bad for the fact that I’m about to fornicate in the dark on my best friend’s porch, but I don’t, and as Madd hits that perfect spot, my eyes close. I really, really don’t feel bad.I feel really fucking good!

Maddox is one of the greatest guitarists on Earth, and he plays my pussy like it is his favorite instrument.

TWO

Maddox

“You’re so fucking wet. Is this for me, baby?” I swipe my fingers through her folds.

Jen moans, her head falling back onto my shoulder, and I squeeze her throat tighter.

She told me once that she likes to read romance novels, and she enjoys reading romance novels about bondage, and well, hell, of course, I was fucking into that. I had her read a little over the phone when we were on tour once, and hell, it turned me on!

“Right there, Madd.” She moans again after she says my name, and I love it when she fucking does that.

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