The Other Side of Us (Harlequin Superromance)

by Sarah Mayberry

  It was. Better yet, the expiry date was good. She extracted one condom and slid it into her pocket, then added another for good measure. Just in case.

  Feeling brazen and bold and terrified as all get-out, she left the house.

  CHAPTER TEN

  TRAVERSING TWO GRAVEL driveways in stilettos prevented Mackenzie from dwelling on the slightly sick/excited feeling in the pit of her stomach, but there was no denying the swoop of adrenaline that washed through her as she climbed the stairs to Oliver’s front porch.

  She shook her hands, blowing out a breath.

  He’s a good guy. Trust him. And trust yourself.

  She knocked. A beat of silence followed. Her throat was so tight with nerves she wondered how she would keep breathing. Then footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, reaching for courage. The door was swinging wide when she opened her eyes.

  Oliver stood there in his tank top and jeans, his feet bare. Her gaze dropped to his hips. The stud on his jeans was open, as though she’d caught him in the act of undressing.

  “Mackenzie.” His gaze traveled over her face before dropping to scan her body. A small, confused smile tilted his mouth. “You heading out?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him why she was there—an expurgated version, anyway—but nothing came out. Nerves squeezed her diaphragm and chest. She felt a little dizzy.

  I don’t think I can do this.

  She could feel her courage draining away. Driven by desperation, she reached out and clenched her hand into the fabric of his shirt. Then she used her grip to yank him toward her. His eyes widened as they bumped chests. She was already lifting her head, her mouth finding his unerringly, instinctively. Her free hand landing on his shoulder for balance, she closed her eyes and kissed him with all the urgency and need in her soul.

  For a horrible, too-long moment his mouth was still against hers, then his arms came around her and his lips opened. The hot, knowing slide of him inside her mouth made her knees weak with lust.

  He tasted like coffee and desire, and his stubble rasped against her face as he angled his head and deepened their connection. One of his hands slid down her spine to cup her backside, curving around it possessively before pulling her into more intimate contact with his body. She felt his hard-on against her belly, a thick, firm ridge that made her moan with anticipation.

  She needed this. Needed him. She wanted the mindlessness of sex, the beauty of being in the now, the carnal joy of giving in to her animal self. Her hands grasped at his tank top, searching blindly, desperately for the hem. Once she found it she slid her hands onto the firmness of his belly, her inner muscles tightening as she felt the shiver of need that rippled through his body. His skin was still slightly damp from their yard work and she rubbed her hips against his as she remembered how good he’d looked, working and sweating on her behalf.

  Vaguely aware they were still on his doorstep, she urged him backward, not stopping until she had him pressed against the hall wall. Utterly focused on getting him naked, she kicked the door shut and started tugging his shirt up his torso. She needed to touch and see and lick him. Now.

  He broke their kiss, his hands finding hers to halt their progress.

  “Mackenzie,” he said, his voice thick and low. “I haven’t had a shower—”

  “Thank. God,” she said, kissing him again.

  She wanted him hot and sweaty. She wanted him exactly as he was.

  He laughed but let her have her way, ducking his head and lifting his arms obligingly so she could tug the top over his head. She let it fall to the ground, eating up his shoulders and chest and belly with her eyes. Her gaze zeroed in on the hollow at the base of his neck that she’d wanted to lick earlier and she leaned close and tasted him. Salt and heat and man. She wrapped her hand around his biceps and pressed herself against him as she tasted him again.

  He muttered something under his breath and the next thing she knew she was moving backward, and then she was the one with her back against the wall on the other side of the hall and he was pinning her there with his body weight.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” he asked her as he looked into her eyes.

  “I was trying to seduce you.”

  “Mission accomplished.”

  He kissed her, his body shaking with barely controlled need. His hands covered her breasts, his fingers plucking at her nipples as he pressed his hips against hers. She’d never been so turned-on in her life, every inch of her skin screaming to be in contact with his. Desire was an ache between her thighs, insatiable and demanding.

  Her hands fumbled at his fly, dragging the tab down. His body jerked as she slipped her hand inside his jeans and underwear and wrapped it around his erection. He was incredibly hot and hard in her hand and she made a needy sound in her throat.

  His hands found the stud on her jeans and she bit his lower lip encouragingly as he lowered the fly. His warm hand smoothed south, slipping beneath the elastic of her panties. Way, way, way at the back of her brain she was aware that this was one of many moments where he might hesitate or, worse, retreat as he encountered the evidence of her injuries. That part of her was silenced as his fingers slipped lower, delving between her thighs.

  “Mackenzie,” he whispered as he discovered how wet and ready she was.

  Her hand tightened around his erection as he found her, his finger working in delicate circles. She could feel her climax rushing toward her, even though they’d barely started. It had been so long and he was so damn hot....

  But she wanted him inside her when she came, wanted to have the hardness in her hand filling her, stretching her. She released her grip on him and started pushing at his jeans.

  He broke their kiss, his lips trailing across her cheek to find the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “Not here,” he murmured against her skin.

  “Yes,” she insisted, pushing his jeans lower on his hips.

  She wanted him now. Couldn’t bear to wait even as long as it would take to find a bedroom. Pushing him away, she locked eyes with him briefly before concentrating on his jeans, dragging them down his legs. It seemed only natural to follow them down, to press her face against his flat belly before taking him in her hand and pulling him into her mouth.

  He swore, his hand coming to cup the back of her head. He tasted like sweat and need and she closed her eyes and savored him. After a few seconds he pulled away from her. He gripped her beneath the arms and encouraged her to rise.

  “You’re not getting off that easy,” he said.

  He grasped the waistband of her sweater, pulling it over her head in one swift move. His gaze swept from breast to breast.

  “You put this on for me?” he asked, tracing the edge of her lacy bra where it curved over her breast.

  “Yes.”

  “Good choice.” He reached behind her and her bra was suddenly loose around her torso. “But this is much, much better.”

  The next thing she knew, he had the straps down her arms and she was naked from the waist up. He made an appreciative noise before lowering his head to pull a nipple into his mouth.

  The sharp pull of his mouth, the wet heat, the sight of his head over her breast... She cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders as she hung on for dear life.

  “You taste good,” he said as he lifted his head. He kissed her again, the force of his desire tilting her head back. She felt his hands at her hips, then the tug of denim against her skin as he pushed her jeans and panties down her thighs.

  She was naked now, bared utterly to him, and a rush of anxiety cut through her arousal. There was no way he could fail to notice the brutal scar across her hips now. It was center stage, waiting for its moment in the spotlight.

  The thought had barely registered before he ducked in front of her, tucking his shoulder beneath her body. Suddenly she was airborne, flailing for purchase, one of his strong arms clamped around her waist, the other gripping an ass cheek in a provocative, primiti
ve way as he lifted her in a firefighter’s hold.

  “Been wanting to do that for a while,” he said as her shock turned to laughter.

  He headed up the hall, turning into the first room. He leaned forward, then she was tumbling onto a bed. He wasted no time following her, his gaze sweeping over her in hungry appraisal.

  Again, she tensed, waiting for him to hesitate or backpedal or comment.

  “You look good enough to eat,” he said.

  Then he lowered his head and licked his way down her belly before pushing her thighs open. She forgot to breathe as he licked the seam of her sex, her fingers fisting in the sheets. She almost levitated when he opened his mouth and kissed her, a fully, earthy caress that made her forget everything.

  From that moment on she was gone, lost in her body and what he was doing to her. The flick of his tongue, the gentle, insistent pressure, the build of tension inside her...

  Her hips lifted as she sought more, and he obliged by sliding a finger inside her, then another. She was so close it hurt, her arousal a painful, desperate ache. Any second now she was going to break....

  “No. I want you,” she panted, her fingers clamping down onto his shoulder as she tried to ease him away.

  He lifted his head, his eyes dark with passion.

  “Get up here,” she ordered, curling her fingers in his hair and encouraging him upward.

  His mouth curved into a slow, knowing smile as he relinquished his position and came on top of her. His hips settled between her thighs and she reached for him, positioning him at her entrance.

  “Wait.” A chagrined expression came over his face. “Condom.”

  “Front pocket of my jeans.”

  A slow smile curved his mouth. “You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

  “Not if he’s worth doing.”

  He laughed, and then she was watching his perfect, rounded ass as he hightailed it out the door in search of her jeans. Five seconds later he was back, the silver square of a condom in hand. He knelt on the bed between her thighs and she watched through half-closed eyes as he smoothed the latex onto his erection.

  She couldn’t be one-hundred-percent certain, most of her blood being south of her navel right now, but she was pretty sure it was about the sexiest damn sight she’d ever seen. He stretched over her, his weight balanced on one elbow. She felt the warm, hard press of him at her entrance, her hips instinctively lifting to welcome him inside.

  At the last second a bolt of panic made her grip his shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve done this. I have no idea if everything still works the way it should.”

  His mouth tilted at the corners. “We’ll join the dots,” he said confidently, and then he flexed his hips and slid inside her, a hot, hard invasion that stole her breath and made her cry out.

  He swallowed the rest of her cry with a kiss before withdrawing almost to the brink before driving home again. The delicious movement of his body inside hers was too much, too good, too fine. She rocked with him, finding his rhythm, closing her eyes and getting lost in the world behind her eyelids. He was so heavy and male and she loved the way he felt, the weight of him and the urgent, demanding stroke of his body inside hers. Tension rose inside her and instinctively she tried to bring him in deeper, arching her back, widening her thighs. Pain shot through her hip, sharp and undeniable, and she instinctively tried to pull away from it, pressing her thighs tight to his. He stilled immediately.

  “Mackenzie?”

  The pain was fading already and she gripped his backside, silently urging him to continue.

  “What just happened?” he asked, stubbornly refusing to move.

  “My range of movement isn’t what it used to be.”

  His face was concerned as he studied hers. “Okay. What if you were on top?”

  “No, no. This is fine. I can handle it.”

  She needed him to keep going, in the same way that she needed oxygen. She tilted her hips, trying to coax him into moving.

  “It’s not supposed to be an endurance test.”

  She gave a wordless cry as he withdrew, the loss of him a profound, unwelcome shock.

  “Oliver, I swear...” She curled her fingers into the muscle of his hip, trying to stop him from leaving.

  His arm came around her as he rolled onto his back, lifting her at the same time so that she wound up on top, sprawled across his body.

  “Do your worst,” he said as he grinned at her.

  She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the easy, casual way he’d made things right for her, even when she’d given him permission to simply plow on, regardless.

  “Thank you,” she said simply, because his generosity deserved recognition.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said as he slid his hands onto her backside.

  His erection surged against her belly, a potent reminder that the best was yet to come. Slipping her knees either side of his hips, she gripped him and arranged herself. In this position she could control the extension of her hip and there was nothing but pleasure as she slid onto him.

  His hands gripped her as she started to move, his eyes dropping to half-mast. She concentrated on the feel of him inside her, on the needful pressure of his hardness against her softness, her gaze running over his chest and belly and face.

  He was so damned hot, his body so beautiful, and the way he felt inside her...

  She held her breath as her climax hit her, her head dropping back as she rode it out.

  “Yes. Come for me, Mackenzie.” Oliver’s voice was low and deep, his hands a welcome anchor as he thrust into her.

  She opened her eyes in time to see him come, the tendons standing out in his neck, his lips drawn back in an almost snarl. She stared, transfixed, then gasped as he slipped a hand between their bodies and found her with his thumb. Two, three, four strokes and she climaxed again, his name a sob on her lips.

  She fell across his chest afterward, her face pressed into his neck. She could smell his deodorant and something she suspected was simply him and she nuzzled closer as her body slowly came down to earth.

  His hands smoothed over her arms, her back, her hips, a steady, calming, hypnotic caress. She felt warm and sated and safe and she let her eyelids drop closed. After a few minutes he pressed a kiss to her temple and she slipped off him, allowing him to do something with the condom before pulling the covers over them both. He encouraged her onto her side facing away from him, then curled his body around hers, one arm sliding around her rib cage. The last thing she registered before drifting into sleep was the brush of his lips at the nape of her neck.

  * * *

  IT WAS DARK when Oliver woke with the sweet scent of vanilla surrounding him. A warm, soft body was curled into his side, a slim leg tangled with his.

  Mackenzie.

  God, Mackenzie.

  She’d been incredible. So hot and tight and ready for him. The way she’d launched herself at him when he’d opened the door, pushing him against the wall and sliding her hand inside his jeans...

  And when she’d taken him into her mouth...

  It had been all he could do not to disgrace himself on the spot. Ever since he’d met her a part of him had wondered what she’d be like—what they’d be like together. And now he knew.

  Unforgettable. Undeniable.

  Tightness stole into his chest as he blinked at the ceiling. Mackenzie stirred beside him, her lips pressing briefly against his shoulder, a small, unconscious gesture of affection that made his armpits prickle with sudden, clammy sweat.

  She was incredible. Sexy beyond his wildest fantasies, earthy and lusty and so damned responsive... One part of him wanted to lose himself inside her all over again—and the other part was freaking out for exactly the same reason.

  He’d had one-night stands before, a long time ago in his band days. This was not how a one-night stand felt.

  Because what had happened with Mackenzie had been about
more than sex. It had been about connection and affection and true intimacy. It had meant something. It had been real.

  His heart thumped against his breastbone as flight-or-fight adrenaline pumped through him. Suddenly the quilt felt too heavy, Mackenzie’s weight against his side a burden. Moving carefully, he eased away from her before standing and exiting the room. He found his jeans in the hall and pulled them on before making his way to the kitchen.

  The power button for the kettle glowed softly in the darkness and he used it to orient himself while his eyes adjusted. When he could make out the dim outline of the cupboards and the fridge, he hit the button to bring the water to boil and found the tea bags and a cup in the cupboard. Then he sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around the hot mug, trying to get a grip.

  He shouldn’t be feeling this way about anyone so soon after the breakdown of his marriage. Edie was still so much in his head. There was still so much to deal with. He didn’t have the mental real estate available to take on something big and important and significant right now.

  Something he maybe should have thought about before he pushed Mackenzie’s bra off her shoulders and pulled one of her small, tight nipples into his mouth. Definitely something he should have thought about before he’d lost himself inside her sleek, strong body.

  But he hadn’t. He’d gone along for the ride when she’d barreled over the threshold because he’d wanted her, hadn’t stopped wanting her, from the moment he’d first met her. Even when he’d decided she was rude and beyond redemption, a part of him had been mentally undressing her. She fascinated him. She compelled him. She aroused him. And now he’d touched her and kissed her and held her and tasted her and swallowed her cries of release and felt her body arch against his own... And he was pretty damned sure he would never be able to forget any of those things for as long as he lived.

  It had been that good. She had been that good.

  He shoved the mug away.

  This was crazy. He was a mess. A liability to any woman right now, but particularly to Mackenzie, who was dealing with her own crap. The last thing she needed was some crazy, unstable guy in her life. She needed someone rock steady and solid as she navigated the next challenging phase of her recovery, as she redefined who she was and what she’d do with her career. She didn’t need a guy who woke in a cold sweat and snuck out because he couldn’t handle the intensity of what he’d experienced in her arms.