Messing With Mac

13

CLEARLY HE’D LOST HIS MIND. That, or with the perpetual hard-on he’d had over the past weeks, the serious blood loss from his brain had taken its toll.

But it didn’t stop him from bringing her home to his place. It didn’t stop him from fantasizing the entire way about what she did or did not have on beneath that clinging silk. And it didn’t stop him from wishing he hadn’t told her all they were going to do was sleep.

She sighed as they moved up his front walkway. “I’m so tired.”

Good. With any luck she’d fall asleep. Like now. Calling himself every sort of fool, he opened his front door and forced himself to lean back, away from her, rather than bury his face in her hair the way he wanted to. As he shut the door behind them, Taylor turned to him, reached up, cupped the back of his neck in her palm and pulled his mouth to hers.

So much for going to sleep.

She danced the very tip of her tongue along the crease in his lips, and with a groan, he let her in. He could do nothing else. It was hot, combustive, and so instantly out of control he staggered back, slamming them both against the front door.

Laughing breathlessly, Taylor tried to climb up his body, raining little hot kisses over his face as she went. “Here, Mac?”

“No.” He was shaking with the need to hold her, shaking. He led her to his bedroom and gestured her in.

Afraid of more mindless kisses, he stayed by the door.

Taylor went straight for the bed, kneeled on the mattress and turned to him with a sexy little smile that shot straight to his gut.

And parts south.

But at the sight of him against the door-he was gripping the handle tight behind him like it was his anchor-her smile faded. “I thought you were going to comfort me.”

“You’re going to be fine.” It was himself he was worried about at the moment. She hadn’t changed from her peach silk, but had added a matching robe that she’d allowed to fall open.

As he watched, she shrugged it off, leaving her shoulders bare, leaving her body bare except for that column of silk and the ribbon beneath her breasts. Crossing her arms, she ran her hands up and down her arms, and shivered. “It cooled off tonight.”

Had it? He was hot as hell, sweating just watching her.

When she shivered again, he sighed the sigh of a man facing the guillotine and took an instinctive step toward her. Suddenly his knees were brushing up against the mattress.

Taylor dropped her arms to her sides. The bodice of her gown dipped low, exposing the alluring, soft curves of her breasts. Her nipples pressed against the silk, begging for the attention he was dying to give. The material clung to her belly, her hips, her thighs, molding and outlining every part of her that he’d been dying to touch, taste, since he’d first seen her.

“Warm me up,” she whispered.

His hands slid to her hips before he could stop himself. “Taylor-”

“No, don’t think. Just touch me.” Another shiver wracked her frame, and when he looked into her eyes, he realized she wasn’t nearly as calm as she’d pretended to be. In those green, green depths he saw her lingering fear and horror, and his heart clenched again.

“Please?” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He lifted a hand, skimming his thumb over her jaw. “Comfort sex, Taylor? Is that going to work for us?”

Pressing that mind-blowing body to his, she arched just a little, enough to make him lose his train of thought and nearly drive him to his knees. “Definitely, it’s going to work for us.”

“But-”

She put her mouth to his, and he lost himself in the kiss. “Wanting you like this,” she said when they finally came up for air, their lips separating with a little suction noise that made him want more, “isn’t a life-and-death decision, Mac. It’s just…quenching a thirst.”

A sigh escaped him while his hands slid up and down her back. “And afterwards…you won’t be thirsty anymore?”

“Not if you do it right.” She put her mouth to the corner of his and nibbled some more. “Do you know how to do it right, Mac?”

“I think I can fumble around and figure it out.” As it was useless to resist, he gave in, telling himself this was simply a one time deal. Comfort sex, as they’d both just said. God knew they both needed it.

“Well, if you need any help,” Taylor teased, let ting out a moan when he fisted his hands in her hair and tugged lightly, exposing her throat to his hungry mouth. “I’ll be happy to help you out.”

Then his mouth captured hers and there was no more talking because she couldn’t keep a single, solitary thought in her head except for more, please, please, more.

His hands danced over her body, gripping her hips, squeezing, before racing roughly up her spine to press her closer to his hot, hard length. His mouth shifted from gentle to ravishing so fast her head spun, leaving her no choice but to fly with him.

Which was exactly what she’d wanted, it was what she’d wanted since she’d first set eyes on him.

Then he pulled back, staring into her eyes while his fingers played with the teeny-tiny straps on her shoulders.

He wanted her. He’d come for her when she’d called him, he’d come and been there for her in a way no one had in so long she’d forgotten how good it felt.

No matter what they each claimed, this was no comfort sex. Maybe Mac wasn’t ready to admit it, but she could wait for the words.

The actions though…those she needed, desperately. Now. She could feel her nipples, rigid against the silk. She could feel her thighs, and the dampness between them, and the blood roaring through her veins. Every single atom in her body was vibrantly aware, overly sensitized and aroused. She was tingling all over, so full of anticipation and raging need she could hardly stand it.

She didn’t have to. Mac yanked off his shirt. Kicked off his shoes, then his pants, before coming back to her.

At the sight of him, she caught her breath. He was amazing. Magnificent. Huge. She would have looked at him forever, but he yanked her against him, hard.

Hard was good. Bending her back over his arm, he put his mouth on her breast through the material of her nightie, and nearly sent her through the roof. His hand skimmed down her legs, then back up again, beneath the material now. Up the back of her thigh.

Where he discovered she wasn’t wearing panties.

The knowledge ripped a rough groan from him and a shiver of thrill from her.

If he didn’t get to the rest soon, now, she was going to explode. Looping her arms around his neck, she slid her silk against his hot, pulsing, vibrating body.

Tensing, his hands tightened on her. “Taylor…”

“Yes,” she sighed into his ear, then rimmed it with her tongue, making him groan and his body jerk. Encouraged, she slid her tongue down the side of his throat, thrilling to the way his fingers dug into her hips.

“Condom,” he growled, frustration pouring off him. “I don’t have a-”

“I do.” She pulled back, giving him a small, secret smile as she stroked her fingers over her own breast.

“I tucked one right in here.”

His mouth fell open as if he needed it that way just to breathe.

“Are you going to get it?” she asked, the words barely out of her mouth before he yanked on the rib bon beneath her breasts, spilling them free. As the nightie fell away, he found the small foil packet.

Scooping it up, he stared at it. “You packed a con dom.”

“I believe in safe sex.”

“Yes, but…” Now he looked at her; hot and bothered, and baffled. An irresistible combination.

“When you called,” he said slowly. “You were so scared-”

“I was.”

“But when I got there you were dressed, with your hair and makeup done. Waiting for me. You…you knew we were going to do this,” he accused, his eyes narrowing.

“I knew you would come,” she said truthfully. “I also knew only you would make it better. Only you, Mac.”

He groaned again, and she didn’t know if it was from getting his first good look at her naked body, or that he was trying to garner the strength to push her away. On the off chance he could muster enough to do it, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and tugged backward so that she fell on her back on the mattress and he fell over her.

“Damn it,” he grated out, lifting his weight off her. “I’ll hurt you.”

“I’m not fragile.” Arching her hips, she brushed the very center of herself over his erection, making him hiss out a breath. “I’m not going to break.”

He ripped open the little packet while she ran her fingernails down his belly, smiling when he tensed at the teasing caress and dropped the condom. Twice. Then his hands tightened on her bare thighs, pushing them open so that she was spread out for him, and her smile faded, replaced by a bated breath as she closed her eyes and waited for him to put the condom on, to thrust home.

When he didn’t, she opened her eyes. He was staring down at her. “You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said in a reverent whisper. Still holding her gaze, he skimmed his hands down her thighs until his thumbs met at her creamy center. Slowly, so maddeningly slowly she thought she would die, he gently traced them over her, lightly, up and down. Down and up. Her hips ground helplessly, and when he did it again, then yet again, she let out a helpless whimper.

“So wet,” he whispered, dropping his gaze now to watch what he was doing, slipping a finger into her as he continued to apply pressure to just the right spot with his thumb.

Her body strained, and the wordless demand she made was most definitely a cry for more.

Still watching as his fingers drove her to the edge, he made a sound, too, a deep, throaty moan.

And then drew away.

With a desperate sob, Taylor arched her hips upward. If he stopped now…

“Shh.” He slid his body off the bed until he was kneeling on the floor, his broad shoulders wedged between her thighs. Sliding his hands beneath her undulating hips, he held her still.

She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe… “Mac…”

“I know, baby. I know.” And he put his mouth on her.

At the first silken stroke of his tongue she nearly burst right out of her own skin. At his second stroke, her back went rigid. Gripping handfuls of his sheets in her fists, she mindlessly ground her hips in spite of the hold he had on her.

“Good?” he lifted his head to ask.

She throbbed. Ached. Quivered. “Good.”

He bent his head again and sucked her into his mouth, making her come in a blinding, thrashing, gut-wrenching rush. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced, it was completely out of her realm, and as he didn’t stop, she kept coming.

Gradually, with gentle kisses and wordless murmurs, he brought her down, and when her breathing slowed, he leisurely made his way back up her body, using that wonderful, talented, greedy mouth.

“Oh, Mac,” she sighed with a last shudder, and kissed him.

Mac could have drowned in that kiss, and might have if he hadn’t been so consumed with the sheer primal lust ripping through his body. “Condom,” he managed, and held it up. “Gotta get it on.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Just do it quick.”

Her fingers on him nearly took him right over, and when she stopped to swirl her thumb over the tip of him, he could only growl her name, on the very thin edge of control. He couldn’t help it, not after watching her come apart for him, not with the taste of her still on his lips. He’d wanted to make her shudder and gasp and cry out his name, and he’d done that.

Now he wanted to do it again. He wanted her writhing beneath him. He wanted to see her, wanted to hear more of those mind-blowingly sexy little whimpers and panting entreaties.

“Now,” she ordered, wrapping her fingers around the full length of him, guiding him to her. “Now.”

With one thrust, he drove himself home, and then, overcome by the tight, wet heat surrounding him, by her hands gliding mindlessly up and down his back, by the long, ragged sigh that escaped her lips, he went utterly still before he lost it too fast.

“Please,” she begged, those perfectly lacquered fingernails digging into his butt.

Oh yeah, he’d please. He let himself go, gave in to the tense, quivering, straining muscles that wanted to ride, and when she dug those nails in again, his hips started to piston madly, pounding into her, possessing, taking. Giving.

Tossing back her head, Taylor arched into him, pulling her legs back, taking even more of him, deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust.

Damp flesh slapped against damp flesh. Breathing came hard and uneven. The mattress creaked, the headboard hit the wall in a rhythm set by their desperate motions. It was the wild, screaming, sweaty sex she’d been tormenting him with for days.

Then, skin slick, chest heaving, Taylor cried out, gripping him for all she was worth as she splintered into a thousand pieces in his arms, shuddering, shuddering, her inner muscles clenching him so tight he could do nothing but hold on tight and follow her over.

They collapsed into each other, still quivering, still gasping, exhausted in their utter satisfaction.

Mac knew he needed to shift his weight, that he was heavy, but he was wrung out, panting for air, and still so entwined with Taylor he had no idea where her body began and his ended.

Several minutes passed like that, while he caught his breath and waited for his world to stop spinning.

“I can’t see,” Taylor finally said, voice hoarse.

With great effort he lifted his face from where it was plastered to the side of her neck. He had her hair in his mouth. Spitting it out, he said, “Your eyes are closed.”

“Oh.” She gave that some thought. Without opening them, she said, “And I can’t feel my toes.”

Craning his neck, he looked at her bare, very sexy toes. “I think it’s because I’m heavy.”

But when he would have moved off her, she tightened her fingers, which were still embedded in his butt. “Don’t,” she whispered, hugging him tight. “Not yet.”

“You’ll suffocate.” With a huge effort, he heaved himself up to his elbows and stared, a little stunned, into her face.

Her cheeks were rosy. Her lips were wet and slightly swollen from his kisses. Her eyes were soft, void of that usual cool haze, and smiling at him.

She was so beautiful it took his breath. “Taylor…”

She slapped his butt. “Anyone ever tell you you’re pretty good at that wild, screaming, sweaty sex stuff?”

“Pretty good?”

The female smile turned quite smug. “Okay. Pretty, pretty good.” Her hips rocked, just a very little, tiny motion, but he felt it all the way to his toes.

Still hard within her, he thrust back.

Smugness vanished as she gasped.

He thrust again.

Her mouth fell open now, her eyes glazing over. “Mac? Again?”

“I have to upgrade ‘pretty, pretty good’ to ‘mind-blowingly amazing,’ don’t I?”

Her breath caught when he dipped down and kissed a breast. “O-okay.”

Another slow, rocking thrust.

And then again.

Taylor arched up, tighter than a drawn bow, her nipples beaded in two hard buds, her skin glowing and damp as he watched her fight to take what he held just out of her reach. “Oh, Mac. Faster. Harder.”

He gave her harder but held back on the faster. Kept it slow until she was clutching at him, mindless again, on the very edge. “Mac!”

Just as it always had been, resisting her took every bit of control he had. “Is it pretty, pretty good?” he whispered.

“It’s… Oh, Mac…”

“Easy,” he whispered, running hot, openmouthed kisses down her throat. “We’re going to take it nice and easy this time.”

“No, I…please…it’s…” She opened her eyes on his, and he could tell by the desperation and need warring on her face she couldn’t remember what he wanted to hear.

“Mind-blowingly amazing,” he said, helping her. Then stroked a thumb right above where they were joined.

She bucked beneath him. “Mind-blowingly…oh, yeah, it is,” she managed as he slowly, slowly thrust into her. “Mind-blowingly amazing.” And when he stroked his thumb again, her thighs and belly went taut. She held him in a death vise, suspended for a long heartbeat…staring up at him with wide, passion-dazed eyes as she let go, letting him watch her fall.

The honesty nearly killed him, and took him over, too. He let go, giving himself so completely he had no idea how he was going to ever get over it. Over her.

No idea at all.