Chapter 28
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
By the time Mack got home, the hunt was over. The target was down, Nate was grinning like a fool, and Mack's blood was still running hot—not just from the chase, but from the fact that, while he'd been out, Viola had slipped past his rules and gone wherever she damn well pleased.
He stepped through the door, boots heavy against the hardwood floor, each footfall echoing with deliberate weight.
"Viola," he called, voice low and measured—too measured, as if holding back a storm.
She appeared from the kitchen, sipping a glass of water with casual ease, as if she hadn't just broken every boundary he set.
"You're back," she said, voice light but edged with a flicker of caution. "How was your boys' night?"
Mack said nothing, his eyes locking on hers as he closed the distance between them with slow, confident strides.
"Mack—" her voice wavered, cautious now, "—what—"
Before she could finish, his hands were already on her. One palm pressed firmly against the wall beside her head, fingers splayed wide, the other gripping her hip like he was marking his territory, pinning her with unyielding strength.
"You really thought I wouldn't find out?" he murmured, his breath warm against her skin, voice thick with heat and steel.
Her breath hitched sharply. "Find out about what?"
He leaned in closer, his mouth ghosting over her ear, words low and dangerous.
"About you sneaking out. No call. No text. Just walking right out that gate like you owned the place."
Her heart hammered against his chest so fiercely he could feel every beat.
"I wasn't—"
"Don't," he cut her off, voice a growl now, hand tightening just a fraction on her hip. "You knew exactly what you were doing."
Mack's hand pressed firmly against the wall beside Viola's head, trapping her in the small space between him and the cold surface. His other hand lingered at her hip, fingers curling possessively as if marking his territory without a word.
Her breath hitched, eyes wide, but not scared—no, there was a spark there, a flicker of challenge that only made his pulse quicken.
He lowered his voice, deep and husky.
"You're lucky I'm feeling generous tonight."
Her lips twitched into a crooked smile.
"Oh? And what's the price for that generosity?"
Mack's grin was dark, teasing.
"I might let you go… if you say you won't sneak out without telling me again."
She arched an eyebrow, voice soft but steady.
"And if I don't?"
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, his mouth just inches from her ear.
"Then I'll have to make sure you stay right here. Where I can keep an eye on you."
A shiver ran through her—half from the closeness, half from the promise in his tone.
Viola tilted her head, daring.
"And what if I like the view from this angle?"
Mack's hand slid from her hip to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him.
"Then I guess I'm going to have to give you plenty of reasons to stay."
His lips brushed hers—slow, soft, but charged with every ounce of the desire simmering beneath his calm exterior.
Her hands found his chest, fingers splaying as heat blossomed between them.
The teasing smirk never left his face as he whispered,
"I warned you. I'm dangerous."
Mack's fingers tightened slightly on the curve of her waist, drawing her impossibly closer. The wall pressed cold behind her, but every inch of her skin burned with the heat radiating from him.
His mouth hovered over hers, breath warm and heavy."You think you can play with fire and walk away unscathed?"
Viola swallowed hard, lips parted, heart pounding."Maybe I like the burn."
That earned a low chuckle against her throat. His lips trailed down her jawline, teasing, tasting, making her skin arch into every kiss.
"Then I'm the wildfire you can't control."
He kissed her deeply, urgent now, hungry—his hands roaming like he was memorizing every inch of her body. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the world outside their little bubble faded.
His palm pressed firmly against the small of her back, tilting her hips just enough to ignite a fire that spread straight to her core.Viola's breath hitched as his hands slid lower, tracing the line where her jeans hugged her skin.
"You're mine tonight." His voice was a rough promise, lips brushing over hers again.She trembled beneath him, surrendering to the heat, the need, the delicious danger he promised.
"Good," she whispered against his mouth, "because I don't want to be anywhere else."
Mack's smile was dark, victorious."Then hold still."
Mack's arms were firm around her, holding her close as he carried her through the sleek loft, every step deliberate, every breath synced between them. Viola's hands curled around his neck, fingers brushing the rough edge of his stubble, her body humming with anticipation.
He didn't rush—he never did—but the heat between them was a slow burn, tightening with every second they were alone.
Setting her down on the edge of the bed, Mack's eyes roamed her face, drinking her in like a man who'd been waiting a lifetime."You're unbelievable, Vi."
She smirked, biting her lip."Flattery will get you everywhere."
His grin was dark, teasing."Good."
His hands traced the outline of her jaw, then slid down her neck to her collarbone, fingers brushing beneath the edge of her shirt. Slowly, reverently, he peeled the fabric off her shoulders, revealing the soft skin beneath.
Viola shivered, the cool air of the room clashing deliciously with the heat radiating from his touch.
Mack's mouth followed his hands, kissing a trail along her neck, down to the swell of her breasts barely hidden beneath her bra. His fingers teased the clasp, deft and slow, making her pulse race.
"Patience, Vi." His voice was a low growl. "I want to taste every second."
She arched into his touch, the promise of him driving wild the parts of her that had been numb for too long.
Their clothes disappeared piece by piece, every kiss and touch stoking the fire between them, until all that was left was skin pressed to skin, breath mingling, and the world shrinking to just the two of them.
Mack's hands explored with reverence and hunger, learning her curves, her soft spots, the places that made her gasp or shiver. Viola matched his intensity, fingers tracing the planes of his chest, memorizing the strength beneath the surface.
Their kisses deepened, rougher now, desperate for connection, for release, but also for something unspoken—trust, surrender, something fragile and new.
Mack's lips found hers again, slow and searing, a promise that whatever had come before, whatever scars they carried, tonight was theirs.