Mac (HC Heroes Series, #1)

by Donna Michaels

  She moaned and arched into him, her body trembling, driving him out of his damn mind...but he would not be rushed.

  Not today, or tonight.

  No. He was going to savor this time.

  ***

  Stefanie’s heart rocked so hard in her chest she could barely catch her breath. The man was incredible, and driving her mad with his feather-light, barely there touches and kisses. She was ready to burst and going to be certifiable in seconds.

  He drew back and released her hands. “Keep ‘em there,” he ordered, eyes so deliciously dark and heated, her core contracted.

  She wasn’t about to stop the sweet torture he was implementing on her body and senses. Keeping her hands where he wanted them was fine, but she was not going to stay still. Hell, no.

  Then his mouth was blazing a path up her neck to nuzzle that spot behind her ear that drove her mad. She couldn’t stay still if she’d wanted—which she didn’t. Stefanie gasped and squirmed, trying to press her flesh to his...but he held himself just out of reach.

  The wicked bastard.

  Groaning, she silently pleaded for him to touch the parts aching for him the most. But still, his hand brushed around them, skimming down her belly and hip to her thigh where he lingered, inching ever so close she could feel the heat of his hand through her jeans. Then it was traveling back up, while his other one traveled down, creating trails of sensations, and she was having a hard time concentrating on just one.

  Mac was a force of nature—the reactions he drew from her were insane. She’d never responded to anyone else like this before. Just Mac. Her reactions were fierce and untamed, and she loved every damn minute. His touch grew firmer and bolder until finally, finally he brushed her nipples.

  Stefanie cried out, and he drew back to cup both breasts and tweak her nipples. Still keeping her hands up, she arched into him, but damn, she wanted to touch him. She wanted to touch him and taste him so badly, her body shook with that need.

  “Not yet,” he murmured, as if reading her mind, dipping down to kiss her breast and elicit a moan from deep in her throat.

  Okay, she could wait a little longer to touch him if he gave her more of that.

  He started to pull her zipper down, and she felt the rumble of every single tooth as he neared the bottom. Then a hand was inside, and she shamelessly sucked in her gut so he would have more room to get to her tingling center. And then...oh, God...he did, and she could feel his ragged breath against her skin.

  “So wet...”

  Then his hands were on her the waistband of her jeans, and in one swift move, he yanked them and her panties right off. “Mac,” she gasped. His take-charge, determined movements had her heart racing and body heating in anticipation.

  “Better,” he murmured, his mouth back on her neck, driving her bat-shit crazy while he ran his hand down her chest and over her belly, to linger on her upper thigh. Her heart caught in her chest in anticipation of what was to come.

  Then he slid his thick finger inside her, and she was so close, so damn close already, he ripped a needy sound from her, but she didn’t care. She rocked into his touch, over and over, her body wound tight. He upped the pace of his strokes, captured a nipple in his mouth, and when he pinched the other with his fingers, she exploded with a shameless, low, needy cry, filling his living room and the kitchen beyond.

  Catching her before her knees completely buckled, Mac helped her put her arms down and held her close while she found her way back to the world and regained feeling in her fingers.

  “That was...better than food,” she gushed, and his dark, smoldering gaze had heat skittering through her belly again.

  Which was insane.

  “Just the appetizer,” he said, then swept her into his arms and carried her down the hall to his room, where he dropped her on the mattress. “We have the whole night.”

  A thrill shivered through her at the heat in his words and the fact he’d actually invited her into his home, and now planned to have sex with her all night long—in his bed. With her stomach fluttering, she propped up on her elbows and watched as he stripped off the rest of his clothes.

  Magnificent.

  His erection stood thick, long, and proud, and her body ached to have him inside. She was ready for a ride only Mac could provide. His well-defined chest and ripped abs were on her menu of taste tests for the night. He fished a condom from one of the pockets in his cargos, and she loved the way his muscles rippled.

  “You want help?” She smiled, enjoying the show.

  “No,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, and she felt the rumble in all her overly sensitized good parts. “If you touch me now, I’ll burst.”

  Her body quivered and mouth watered, as she watched him roll on the condom. Then he crawled up her body, licking and kissing and nipping his way to her mouth, where he plundered with a groan. His big, rough hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, spreading the heat that simmered inside.

  The sensations rushing through her body were wild and fierce, matching her need to touch him. She traced his biceps and shoulders, and brushed each ridge in his abs, loving how his body quivered under her touch.

  Mac drew back, and nudged her legs apart, his gaze holding hers before he entered in one long, slow thrust.

  Stefanie’s cry of pleasure mixed with his, and they were both damp and shaking with need.

  “Damn...you feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with raw need.

  Then he began to move, and she closed her eyes, riding the sensations. Mmm...yeah...no one gave her a ride like Mac. And when he reached between them to spread her thighs and pushed in farther, she gasped and clutched his arms.

  His mouth was on her throat as he pulled nearly all the way out, then drove back in, over and over again. “So damn good.”

  So was he...all big, and thick, and thrusting. Heat flooded her belly and settled between her legs. “Mac...”

  He drew back and stared into her eyes, his gaze open and trusting, sharing emotions with her she knew he wouldn’t normally reveal. Her throat tightened, incredibly humbled by that trust.

  She was falling for him...no, she’d already fallen. She’d fallen in love with Mac. Somehow, some way over the past few weeks, he’d gotten past her guard, infiltrated her walls, and claimed her heart. She’d always dreamt about being needed, wanted, and loved, and to give it all back in return. The strong, capable, smart, sexy man had slipped past all her defenses and showed her what it felt like to belong...and to be loved.

  She felt it with Mac. He never said it, but she felt it—and was feeling it right now.

  Needing to cement that connection to feel as much of his body as possible as she neared that blissful edge, Stefanie arched up and pressed her chest to his, closing the space between them.

  The angle allowed him to push even deeper inside. She moaned, and he captured her mouth, making a raw, rough, rumbling sound deep in his chest as their tongues matched the delicious push and pull of their bodies. Then Mac upped the pace, and it was all too much, and way too perfect. Indelibly connected, she trembled around him, calling his name as she came, and as he thrust deep and hard one last time, he followed her over the edge with her name falling from his lips.

  ***

  Mac woke up in his bed the next morning to find himself wrapped in a Stefanie blanket of soft, warm, naked woman. He decided then and there that was the only way to wake up in the morning.

  She stirred, her eyes drifting open, then warmed at the sight of him. His chest swelled and every ounce of his being woke up in that instant. “Morning.”

  The beauty garnered that response from him whenever she walked into a room. And he knew...he knew he wanted her in his life permanently.

  “Morning.” He brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “Sleep well?”

  She nodded, then nipped at his thumb. “Perfect.”

  Heat sliced through his groin, and he marveled at how his body had anything left to give, considering they went at it all
night—only falling asleep exhausted at dawn. But he couldn’t get enough of her.

  “Yes, you are.” He tossed the covers aside and gently pushed her onto her back before sliding a hand down her soft body, his growing harder by the second. “So damn perfect.”

  Mac was losing his mind. His need for Stefanie was so strong, he had to taste her, feel her, sink inside her. One look, one brush of her body and his hunger increased tenfold, and control snapped.

  He kissed a path up her warm, naked curves, lingering on each breast, loving how her nipples hardened, her body arched up to meet him, how he ripped soft, sexy little mewls from her throat when his fingers brushed over her gorgeous, glistening, wet folds.

  “Mac...” She trembled beneath him, gaze half-opened, blazing with need.

  His heartbeat raced, and temperature rose. Stefanie slayed him. She made him feel...everything. He bent down and kissed her lips, brushing a path to her ear. She was a strong, warm, giving woman, and would never treat him like Fiona.

  “Please...I need...”

  Christ, so did he.

  “I know,” he muttered, desire testing his control. He kissed his way down her trembling body, holding her hips as he put his mouth on her.

  She cried out and thrust up, fingers grasping his head, holding him in place—as if he’d ever leave without finishing. She was his, and he took a hell of a lot of pleasure in making her his, branding her, pleasing her, giving her exactly what she wanted. It was intoxicating as fuck. As hungry as Stef, Mac wasted no time devouring, licking, sucking, sliding his tongue to her rhythm, thrilling to those damn mewls, and her deep, drawn out moan as she burst for him.

  After a good amount of shaking, her body went limp, and only then did he release her to fish a condom from his nightstand. “You have no idea how sweet you taste, Stefanie,” he said, rolling the condom on.

  “Then kiss me and let me see.” She pulled him close, devouring his lips, kissing him hungry and deep.

  Craving gripped him so tightly he shook. He growled, completely lost, yet found with this woman. She squirmed beneath him as if desperate for him to push inside. He wanted the same damn, delicious thing, but first, he drew back and gazed into her rapturous face.

  Mac’s heart cracked fully open, the armor plating no longer necessary, and he connected with Stefanie, embracing everything he saw in her deep, mesmerizing, communicating gaze.

  A slow, warm, powerful wave rushed through him. She reached up to caress his face.

  “Stefanie...” he murmured, kissing her palm, body too tight, too heated, too everything to process anything beyond what was taking place between them. Now. Here. In his house. In his bed. A place he’d never brought a woman...shared with no woman.

  Until now. Until Stefanie.

  What was taking place felt so fucking amazing and right, he held her gaze, grabbed her hips and entered her, pushing in deep, all the way to the hilt. His grunt of pleasure mingled with her moan and increased as she wrapped her long legs around him and took him farther inside.

  God, she felt good. “So damn good,” he muttered, drawing nearly all the way out, before driving all the way back in.

  Warm hands were all over him, her mouth, too, as she leaned up to kiss his chest, and damn, it was too much, she was too much. He slid an arm under her back, and holding her so close he could feel her heart pounding, Mac drove in and out of her sweet warmth, capturing her cry as she came, throbbing and pulsing around him, spurring his own, hard, fierce release.

  A few minutes later, when the ringing subsided in his ears, and enough air filled his lungs to right his vision, he lifted up to lock his elbows and stared down at her boneless, beautiful, still-quivering body.

  “You okay?” he asked, dipping down to kiss the pulse still beating erratically in her throat.

  “Yes,” her breathless reply warmed his temple.

  “Glad I don’t have to go to work until mid-morning.”

  He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and held back a groan. Shit. He’d forgotten about work. He always arrived at eight—it was half past already.

  “If I didn’t have a meeting scheduled for ten, I’d stay here. I’m—”

  A warm finger pressed against his lip. “It’s okay. I understand. You go to work. Build your brand.”

  So damn sweet. And open. Her gaze was unguarded, warm, understanding.

  Real.

  No deceit or lies, just honest emotions. She was refreshing, and although Mac wanted to open up and tell her how he felt—that he loved her, trusted her—he held back. Saying those things buried balls deep might not hold as much merit as if they were said outside the bedroom.

  Still, he couldn’t resist bending down and lightly brushing his lips to hers. “I’ll see you later.”

  She traced his jaw with her finger. “Count on it. Especially if you wear the polo with your logo on it.”

  A smile tugged his lips. “Count on it,” he replied using her response.

  Because he did count on it—and her—more and more every day. A true Levi “Mac” McCall milestone.

  ***

  Mac was still thinking about that after his meeting finished with another client signing on with Eagle Security and Investigations. And they’d signed with an ESI pen. He smiled at the piece of promo he twirled between his fingers, happy for the new client, especially since losing one yesterday.

  He set the pen on his desk and grabbed his cell to text Carter to see if he’d picked up any chatter on the stolen art. The man was a whiz at computers, the internet, the dark web. You name it, Carter could infiltrate it, so Mac had asked him to see if he could find a “pulse.” Even if Mr. Pearson hadn’t hired him to find the stolen painting, Mac wanted to help, because he could.

  “Negatory,” Carter said, waltzing into the room. “I was just down the hall, so I figured we’d talk instead of text, since I know how much you hate texting.

  Good man.

  He nodded, setting his phone down and picking up the pen to twirl it again. “No chatter, huh?”

  “No.” Carter shook his head. “Not yet, anyway.” His friend frowned. “Hey, is that one of the new ESI pens?”

  Mac nodded.

  “You might want to be careful with it. Many a pencil has died a death at your hands the past week.”

  Asshole.

  He snickered and chucked the pen at the asshole, who was as bad at catching as he was good with computers. The pen hit the guy in the chest and bounced onto the floor, before rolling under the couch.

  “And this is why we can never have new things,” Dex said, strolling in at the right moment.

  Mac chuckled.

  Carter sneered. “Hey, not my fault. I wasn’t ready,” he muttered, dropping to his knees to retrieve the pen. “Next time, give a guy a...” His buddy stilled, then glanced at Mac before returning his attention to the pen under the couch.

  “What’s wrong?” Dex asked, resting his ass against Mac’s desk. “Need help fetching it, too?”

  Carter didn’t answer, but he tugged his cell from his pocket then took a picture of the pen under the couch. Mac stiffened, alarm racing down his spine. Something was off and judging by the lack of color in his buddy’s face, he’d say it was bad.

  Even Dex straightened, sensing trouble, but they both knew to give Carter the lead and waited for his next move.

  “Nah, I got it,” Carter said, rising to his feet—without the pen—motioning for them to keep silent and follow him from the room.

  Mac’s heart hit the floor, as he shot to his feet and marched into the next room. Carter held a finger to his mouth and showed them the picture of a...listening device...sitting next to the pen under the couch.

  Fuck.

  What the hell was a bug doing in his office? And how the hell had it gotten there?

  Automatically operating on the same page, the three of them strode to the vault to procure sweeping devices and split up to methodically sweep the premise. Twenty-three-minutes later, they regrouped i
n the vault to discuss their findings.

  “That’s the only one in my office. The boardroom and the other two offices were clear,” he said.

  “Garage, showers, vault, and locker room clear,” Dex reported.

  Carter nodded to the room across the hall. “Breakroom, reception, storage room, communications, and ammo vault all clear.”

  “So only the one was in your office, boss,” Dex said.

  Shit.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s where I conduct my calls, and...son-of-a-bitch...” He sucked in a breath. “That damn bug might’ve played a hand in the stolen artwork.”

  His chest squeezed tight and stomach rolled at the thought of his fledgling company getting caught up in that fucking mess.

  Wracking his brain, Mac tried to determine if he’d given away any pertinent information a thief could’ve used.

  “I was there when you video conferenced with Mr. Pearson,” Dex said. “Nothing specific was mentioned other than the museum, of course. We were supposed to discuss all that with him in person today.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, so is this just a coincidence?” His gut told him no. “And what else had they fucking heard?” He and Stefanie on the couch...He clenched his jaw and fought the urge to punch the wall.

  Whoever it was, he was going to kill them.

  “You know what they say about coincidences,” Carter said with a shake of his head.

  Dex nodded.

  He blew out a breath. “Then we’re all in agreement,” Mac said. “Whoever stole that painting got their info from us.” From him.

  Dammit.

  “But how would they have gotten into your office?” Carter frowned. “Our building is secure. I just ran a quick diagnostic and it showed no breech at any time.”

  “Then it happened while we were here.” He expelled another breath. “Right under my goddamn nose.”

  Carter frowned. “But...no one’s been in there but us.”

  “And...” His heart rocked, then squeezed so tight he could barely breathe.

  “Who?” Carter frowned.

  “The girls,” Dex replied. “Your sister, Mel, and Stefanie. Although, pretty sure they’ve only been in the garage area.”