Backburn Page 2

  She’d married a month after the divorce was final. And now she wanted to move so far away it might break him.

  “Is this because Brett thinks I’m going to get my shit together and beg you to come back?”

  “Spending time with Ashton isn’t helping you. If I thought it was, I’d reconsider, but Brett is getting a promotion if he takes the job in New York. I already have a job lined up. This will be good for us.”

  “Not good for me. Not good for Ashton. You’d take him from his friends, his school, for what?”

  “So he doesn’t realize how far you’ve broken. You’re hardly a man. You forget I know how often you go to see Dr. Eisman. I’ve seen you in full-on meltdown and your crew has to drag your ass in just to get help.”

  “It’s getting better. God, you weren’t there. I can’t get the images out of my head. Yeah, it fucks with me. Can you be any more heartless?”

  She laughed sadly. “Me, heartless? You’re the one who is going to destroy the image your son has of you. One of these days you’re going to have an episode when he’s over there and you’ll scare the hell out of him. Is that what you want?”

  He turned to walk down the steps. “This isn’t over, Jeanette. I’m not letting this go without a fight.”

  “Ask your lawyer, Metcalf. No judge is going to see you as fit to have custody.”

  “You’ll kill me if you take him across the damned country.” California to New York was a long damned way.

  “Maybe that’s for the best.” She stepped inside and locked the door.

  His fists clenched. He couldn’t believe the shit that came out of her mouth.

  Chapter 1

  Anxiety crept in, sending his heart racing as Metcalf made his way to the bar. This day got harder every damned year.

  Empty, that was what he wanted to feel. Nothing at all. Regret, pain, and betrayal got him nowhere. Empty would do because he’d forgotten what happy was.

  He took a seat at the bar and waved the bartender over. Jake came down and took a Tecate from the fridge. “Bad night?” He pushed the beer his way.

  Metcalf nodded.

  “Want to talk?”

  He shook his head.

  “Right.” Jake left him in peace and made his way down the bar.

  He drank down half the can and leaned against the counter.

  Someone took a seat next to him, tapping away at their phone. He glanced over and found Marissa Cortez.

  Guilt hit him like a freight train. He had to banish his thoughts before an ounce of regret for the one person he loved more than life itself entered his fucked-up head. Maybe if Marissa hadn’t pushed him away when Jeanette came back his son wouldn’t have been such a huge part of his life.

  He couldn’t regret Ashton for even a moment.

  When his lawyer pointed out his mental state would hurt him in a court case, Metcalf gave up the fight and let her move Ashton across the country. At the time, he was on edge, ready to fall off the cliff, but he fought his way to the surface and pushed through his issues to finally find some clarity. But by the time he got himself back on track, he felt like a failure.

  Didn’t matter that he talked to Ashton every single day, or he flew him out every six months to stay for a week. It wasn’t the same. He cherished every moment with his son, but it wasn’t enough.

  Marissa’s curse snapped him back into the present. “Fucker.” She glared at her phone. “Pussy little bitch.”

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked. Misery preferred company after all.

  She glanced over in annoyance. Then a bitter laugh escaped. “Another mistake.”

  Metcalf had never considered his time with her a mistake. They’d hooked up under similar circumstances eleven years before. She’d been pissed about the dumbfuck who’d married her, then divorced her a month later because Mommy had told him to. And several months later Carson had started seeking her out, trying for another chance.

  Metcalf helped her get her mind off the prick, and she helped him accept the separation and decide to move on with his life. They lasted a weekend, and it could have been so much more. If only Jeanette hadn’t interfered.

  He never could convince Marissa she was the one he wanted.

  “That was my mistake, not yours.” He ran his hands up and down his thighs. “And it was forever ago. I tried to tell you it was well and truly over with her.”

  Her expression softened. “My fault. You tried to convince me. I’m the bitch who wouldn’t listen. I figured if your wife crawled back to you, you’d be ecstatic after you got over being pissed she’d left in the first place. Besides, you two did have a kid together.” Her eyes closed and she glanced back at the bartender, waving him over impatiently.

  “I didn’t want her back. It took her months to wear me down enough to do give her a chance for Ashton.”

  She turned toward him, her mouth pursed. He could remember her taste like it was yesterday. His hands itched to touch her, to make her forget whatever had pissed her off.

  A soft sigh escaped her lips. “Too late to change the past. And you two were good together. You have an amazing kid. She’s the idiot who left when the going got tough.”

  That wasn’t the whole story. “We weren’t good long. And I could have still been his father without being her husband.”

  “Sorry, Dave. Look, ignore my shitty mood. You haven’t done a damned thing wrong. I’m just tired of Carson showing up to remind me how damned stupid I was.”

  He loved his name on her tongue. She was one of the few who ever called him by his first name.

  Jake appeared before them with a raised brow. “Shot of Herradura?”

  “Please.”

  Within a moment she had the shot.

  Metcalf held back a surprised laugh. Felt like déjà vu. Same drinks, same down in the dumps mood for him, same pissed off vibe from her. Exactly where they’d started eleven years ago.

  Marissa held her hand up, keeping Jake there. She threw her shot back and nodded at the glass. “Another.”

  He poured.

  Metcalf nudged Marissa, and she turned back, one corner of her mouth tipping up.

  “Why so ticked?”

  Her brow cocked. “Why so down?”

  His heart sank. “Jeanette took Ashton to New York three years ago today. I talk to him every day, but it’s not the same as seeing him. God, it’s been months.” He took a slow breath. “I miss him so damned bad.”

  She dropped her phone in her purse and took his hand. “Sorry.”

  A tingle traveled up his arm, through his body. It had been forever since he’d felt anything real from a woman. Damn, since the last time he’d been with Marissa.

  Why the hell had he let life get in the way of something that felt so damned right?

  “I told you, now you tell me,” he prompted.

  She took the shot and muttered, “Some asshole’s new fiancée thinks I want to talk about him. I told her she can have him. She wanted to go on and on about how he always talks about me. And I can’t get her to take the hint I’m not interested in gossiping about the douchebag.”

  “Was she bragging?”

  “Fuck if I know,” Marissa muttered, taking another shot. “Look, I don’t want to think about Chelsea or Carson. I wish them well as long as they leave me the fuck alone.”

  “Asshole should have grown a set and kept you.”

  Marissa groaned, looking away as Jake hooked her up with another shot. “Can we not?”

  “I tried to keep you. You wouldn’t listen, and Jeanette finally wore me down.”

  “Dave, stop. It was a fling. Nothing more.”

  Their time together was a whole hell of a lot more to him. Not that she wanted to hear it. Telling herself that probably made walking away easier.

  “Make you a deal,” he offered.

  “What’s that?”

  “No more talk of the past, and we can help each other forget all the shit.”

  Her expression brightened. “W
hat did you have in mind?”

  He glanced at the pool tables. “Want to play?”

  Light danced through her eyes. “Still suck?”

  Metcalf shrugged. “I’m getting better.” He so wasn’t.

  “We’ll see.”

  * * * *

  Seemed like forever since she’d acted this playful or flirty. Marissa missed this side of herself. Metcalf brought it back full force.

  Smirking, she moved in front of him and bent over. His hand grazed her ass and she leaned back, letting him squeeze. God, she wanted more than his hands on her body.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed everyone had taken on a blurry edge…except Metcalf. Was it a sign from the gods of alcohol? A giggle escaped.

  “You going to keep distracting me, or let me take my shot?” she teased.

  “Take your shot, Marissa,” Metcalf murmured, pressing his arousal against her ass.

  Her lips quirked and she turned back to sink the eight ball.

  Marissa stood and faced him.

  Closing the distance, he curled his hands around her waist as he stared at her mouth.

  “What do I win?” she whispered.

  “What do you want?” he murmured.

  “A do-over.” The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back.

  His head cocked. “How do you mean?”

  “It’s stupid.” She tried to scoot past him. It wasn’t like their fling meant anything. They were a rebound hookup on both sides. Only he landed right back in Jeanette’s life, while she kept bouncing from bed to bed.

  He pressed in close and took her face in his hands, tipping her head back. His lips closed over hers, his tongue sweeping over the seam of her mouth. She opened, letting him in.

  The beer enhanced his taste. God, she missed that flavor.

  His lips trailed across her jaw and up to her ear. “Not stupid. Come home with me.”

  “Neither of us should drive,” she murmured.

  He whispered, “Don’t have to. Live next door.”

  She hadn’t realized he’d moved into an apartment, but she’d avoided him as much as possible since their fling, which had so much potential to be more. One hot weekend she had never wanted to end. God, why had she shut him down so hard? Some days she truly regretted that decision.

  He threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her across the parking lot, to the door of the nearest first floor apartment.

  Almost too convenient.

  He let them in and turned toward her. “Another drink?”

  Marissa dropped her purse on a chair and closed the distance, taking him in. Blond hair, a smattering of freckles across lightly tanned skin over lean muscle. She still remembered drawing constellations in the patterns.

  She trailed her fingers down his T-shirt covered chest and abs to his belt. “Not thirsty.”

  “Neither am I.” Staring into her eyes, he pulled her against him. “I missed you.” The vulnerability staring back washed away the doubts that had started to creep in.

  Resistance broke and Marissa leaned up, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth. A groan escaped his lips and she caressed up his chest to wrap her hand around his neck.

  Felt like old times. A shiver traveled down her spine as he caressed her body, walking her backward to a door.

  Every touch sent a thrill of sensation, awakening the passion that had burned between them forever ago. Looking into his eyes, she realized something. The admission came out in a whisper. “Missed you, too.”

  Metcalf’s lips curved in a predatory smile as he guided her into his bedroom. She shivered in anticipation, but she was done waiting.

  Greedy, she yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. Her dress followed and he had her bra off in seconds. No more hesitation, she unzipped his pants and pushed the rest of his clothes down his legs while he tore the thong from her body.

  Grabbing her waist, he turned and sat on the bed, pulling her with him. She straddled his lap and rocked over his straining length.

  His grip locked over her hips, stopping the movement. “Don’t tease me, Marissa. I need you too damned bad.”

  Fear danced along the desire. They’d shared something when they were together before, but it fell apart. She didn’t want promises. She wanted to help him forget why he’d been in the bar, and maybe she could forget her own reasons.

  Hoping to drown out the words and just feel, she gripped his cock and slid over him. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her head back, kissing down her throat as she rode him.

  They fit together so damned well. He touched her the same way, like no time had passed—like they hadn’t lived separate lives.

  She gripped his shoulders, leaning back. He caught her hips and rolled, pushing her up the bed as he crawled over her. “You’re driving me crazy, Marissa.”

  “Fuck me,” she taunted.

  Hooking her leg over his arm, he drove into her, thrusting deeper, hitting that elusive spot over and over. “There, God, yes,” she cried.

  His eyes locked on hers and the intimacy threatened to break her walls down and let him flood her thoughts.

  * * * *

  The night had a shitty start, but Marissa pulled him out of the pit of depression and into all the feelings she’d sparked a lifetime ago. Nothing with Jeanette had ever been this damned right.

  Marissa’s dark chocolate eyes locked on him. Their passion was timeless. Nothing dampened this need. Nothing else existed. Just two bodies, desire, and a whole lot of heat.

  The fingers of one hand dug into his shoulder as the others traveled down to rub her clit. She caught her lip between her teeth and a moan escaped.

  Fuck, that was gorgeous. He was close. So damned close.

  “Come, darling.”

  And she did, pulling him with her. He collapsed, and she wound her arms around him, lazily kissing his neck.

  “Stay the night,” he murmured, turning on his side to trace the gorgeous tattoo. A peacock that stretched from next to her breast, down her side, and over her thigh.

  Her eyes smoldered as they met his gaze. “Hmm, does that mean we’ll go again?”

  “As many times as we can.” They were in their thirties now, but she made him feel young again.

  Marissa nodded, caution playing through her features as she watched him for some sign.

  He looked into her eyes. “What is it?”

  “Trying to figure you out.”

  “Don’t have to. What do you want to know? I’ll tell you.”

  “What do you want?”

  He trailed his fingers along her tight abs. “This. You and me. Want to see what’s between us.”

  She let out a breath and rolled to her back, staring at the ceiling.

  “What do you want?”

  A short laugh burst free. “I don’t know anymore.”

  “How about you give me a chance?”

  “Chance for what?”

  “To find out how we fit.”

  She rolled back, a smirk on her lips. “We fit quite well.”

  “No, I mean more than physically. You’re lonely. I’m lonely. We don’t have to be.”

  Marissa licked her lips, staring into his eyes. “A chance?”

  “You wanted a do-over. Let’s start there.”

  She grazed the scar on his leg, and he flinched slightly. Marissa’s eyes traveled down to where her thumb played over the smooth skin. “Life is too short to dwell. Something I should remember.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Scooting down the bed, she met his gaze. “Yeah.” Her mouth closed over his crown. He went from half-erect to fully in seconds and it took a force of will not to thrust into the delicious heat.

  His fingers tangled in her hair as she pushed him flat and rose to bob her head over him. Dark hair cascaded over his thighs as one hand circled his base, stroking with the same rhythm of her mouth.

  “Come here, darling.”

  Her eyes sparkle
d as they met his, but she sucked harder, grazing her nails over his scrotum. His argument dried up as she pushed him closer to ecstasy.

  Then he shot over the edge. She didn’t stop. She drank him down until he could barely breathe, then moved up and collapsed beside him.

  Fingers trailed over his shoulder. He got his eyes open to watch her making patterns in his freckles.

  Laughing softly, he asked, “What are you doing?”

  Licking her lips, she met his gaze. “Drawing constellations.”

  He took her mouth, kissing her until she was breathless. “Stay tonight.”

  “Don’t want to go anywhere,” she whispered.

  Chapter 2

  A siren went off and Marissa was jostled awake when someone shot off the bed. She blinked her eyes open and found Metcalf standing on the other side, his chest heaving up and down.

  The siren went off again. She climbed to her feet and thought about comforting him for half a second. He jumped when her phone went off a third time.

  He dealt with sirens every day, so it came as a surprise he was so affected. Then again, they’d been dead asleep.

  She started for the living room, glancing over her shoulder. “Sorry. It’s my stupid phone. It wakes me up in a hurry.”

  She found her cell in her purse and answered, “This is Cortez.”

  “Marissa Cortez?” someone asked.

  “That’s me.”

  “Your brother Enrique is at Lakeridge hospital. There was an accident.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was hit by a car. His injuries aren’t severe, but Doctor Blake wants to keep him. You should come down.”

  “I’ll be right there.” She hung up and made her way to the bedroom.

  Metcalf still stood there, his hands trembling, but he met her gaze. “What’s going on?” Seeing him like that pulled at her heart.

  She crossed the room and gently caught his face. “Are you okay, Dave?”

  He started to shake his head, then nodded as his gaze danced away. “Sorry, your ringtone caught me off guard.”