Messing With Mac

to see her face, taste her mouth, watch her go over for him, only him.

Pulling back, he heard her sound of protest and smiled grimly as he whipped her around. “I’m not going anywhere, Princess, and neither are you.”

“Thank God,” she panted, and when he lifted her up to the table, she spread her legs for him, sighing when he stepped between them and gripped her bare ass in his hands to hold her in place. Her head fell back on her shoulders, her eyes closed, her mouth open.

“Look at me,” he demanded, giving her a little shake until she blinked huge, desire-slumberous eyes at him. He rocked his hips, watching those eyes go opaque with need. “Can anyone else make you feel this way, Taylor? Anyone?” Another slow rock of his hips, and another moan tumbled from her lips. “Like you’d rather have this than breathe? Can they?”

“Mac…” She tried pulling him down to her, tried to wrap her legs around his waist, which would have pressed the hottest, wettest part of her against the neediest part of him.

But he’d have lost it on the spot. Instead, he held her still and whipped the T-shirt off her. Then bent to a gloriously full, high breast, whispering her name as he rubbed his jaw along the plump curve.

In response, she fisted her fingers in his hair and did her best to make him prematurely bald.

“Answer me,” he said, and ran his tongue over her nipple. “Can anyone else make you feel this way?”

Taylor tried to respond, honest to God she did, even though her body was tightening, tightening, tightening, lost in desperate need. “No.” She tried to concentrate even as he drove her toward the very edge. “No one else makes me feel like this.” She gasped as he swirled his tongue over her other pebbled nipple. “N-no one. Ty is just…”

He sucked her into his mouth at the same time he slid a finger into her, and Taylor cried out, her thoughts scattering into nothing.

“Ty is just…” he repeated for her, doing something with his finger that made her just about swallow her tongue.

“He’s…” She struggled to concentrate. “I…” He added another finger to the first, and then his thumb got into the action, slowly skimming over her swollen, wet flesh. Her entire body quivered, so close-

“You…what, Taylor?”

Oh, those fingers! “He’s like my brother!”

He went utterly still. “Your…brother?”

“He’s marrying my best friend.” Licking her dry lips, she stared up at the man who had two fingers inside her, his mouth on her breast and held her on the very edge of an orgasm in a way no one had ever dared.

She wanted that orgasm!

She was also falling in love with him. Damn it, damn it, not all the way in love, just a little tiny bit. But even a little tiny bit was bad. There would be no one else for her, she knew in a moment of clarity, it was this man, and as he pressed down with his thumb and wriggled those amazingly talented fingers inside her, it hit her as hard and fast as the explosive orgasm did.

When her breath finally shuddered back into her lungs, when she could breathe again, she released her death grip on Mac’s shirt and fell back on the table.

“More?” he asked.

“Lots more.” She waited while his gaze met hers, knowing that if she couldn’t tell him how she really felt, she could at least tell him this. “No one else makes me feel this way, Mac.” Her breathing still hadn’t returned to normal, and he ran a finger over the pulse she knew raced at the base of her neck. She caught his fingers in hers. “I never let them.” With a slow roll of her hips, she smiled, determined to keep this light, determined not to let him see she’d started the fall. “Now tell me you have a condom in your pocket.”

“I have a condom in my pocket.” He reached into said pocket and let out a grim smile. “This time I have three.”

There was something deliciously distracting and sinfully wicked about having the rough wood at her back and Mac, still fully dressed at her front. Just as there was something incredibly touching about the way he drew his fingers down her torso, followed by his mouth, his eyes closed as he worshipped her body with everything he had. It tightened her throat and brought her back around to the terrifying thoughts of forever, watching him make love to her slowly, thoroughly…and yet she couldn’t refuse him, not when he reared up and stripped off his shirt, undid his jeans, then tenderly sank into her, not when he started a devastating rhythm matched with a kiss so sweet and deep she never wanted it to end, and not when he finally nudged them both over so that they exploded together.

When it was over, he fell on her, pressing her into the wood. He was hot, heavy, and she held on to him, wanting his weight, wanting his heat, and wanting it so much she clung, just a little, when she never clung. And right then, still gasping for breath, legs still hooked around his thighs, she realized the truth.

She wasn’t just a little bit in love.

There was no such thing as a little bit in love.

Nope, she’d gone and fallen all the way.

16

ATTEMPTING TO WORK when one’s head was screwed up was a bad idea. All day long Mac passed that work table in the downstairs unit, and like Pavlov’s salivating dog, he got a hard-on from just the sight of it.

Taylor had vanished, and he went back and forth between looking for her like a pathetic love-struck teen, and wanting to run like hell.

Swamped by various crews and their questions, he did neither, and by the time he went home, he still hadn’t seen her again.

But late that night, she came to his door with a soft knock and a warm, sexy smile.

She came the next night as well. And the next.

The nights she didn’t, he went to her. And for two weeks they made wild, passionate, devastating love until dawn, and then silently went their own way.

No strings attached.

At least that’s what he knew Taylor would have claimed if he’d asked her, but he didn’t ask. He wasn’t that big a fool. He could see, damn it, and what he saw was so much emotion reflected in her eyes he nearly drowned in them every time he looked at her.

She loved him. Christ, she loved him.

He was torn between ecstasy and sheer terror.

One night she showed up at his door wearing a siren red dress that made him drool. The back was a series of strings criss-crossed over her slim spine, the front was little more than a low dipping bodice snug to the top of her thighs.

Her mile long legs were capped by matching red strappy sandals with heels that put them at eye level.

Shutting the door behind her, she leaned back against the wood and shot him a little smile that made his penis jerk to attention. “Hi,” she said in a sultry voice.

“Hi, yourself,” he said, feeling underdressed in nothing but nylon running shorts.

With a saucy smile, she put her hands on his arms and spun them, reversing their positions so he was against the door.

With a little laugh, he said, “So I’m guessing you’re in charge tonight-”

With a yank, she hauled his shorts down to his ankles.

“Tay-”

She dropped to her knees. Gliding her hands up the front of his legs, she stared at his body, parting her lips thoughtfully. “You want me, big boy?”

More than his next breath, but since she was eye level with the proof, he figured the point moot.

She leaned forward and, as if he were her favorite flavor of lollipop, she licked him.