“That feels…” She hesitated a moment, searching for a word to adequately describe the effect he was having on her body. One wouldn’t do. “Incredible. Magnificent. Magical. Do you have special powers or something?”
His soft laugh while her nipple was still in his mouth sent a different sort of weakness through her. This one had a warm quality, like a quilt being stitched between them with every shared experience.
He transferred his mouth to her other nipple but covered her abandoned breast with his hand. She squirmed and arched her back, driving herself onto his erection. Dear Lord, she couldn’t wait to get her hands and mouth on him.
Why did she have wait to take what she wanted? She fought her robe off her arms and let it puddle around his feet. She was left in a pair of black lace underwear she’d spent too much money on at Abigail’s Boutique. Their purpose hadn’t been seduction, but a way to bolster her confidence.
He plucked at the two strings across her hip connecting the front scrap of lace to the back. Thank goodness she wasn’t in white granny panties.
She shifted enough to cover his erection with her hand. He bucked, one hand squeezing her breast while the other pulled at her panties, the constriction doing crazy good things to her already slick body.
“Going in for the kill, are you?” he asked.
She liked knowing she was the cause of the desperate edge to his teasing words. “I want to touch you.”
She leaned over him for another kiss. The soft cotton of his shirt caressed her nipples and his jeans roughed the inside of her thighs. The fact that he was still clothed while she writhed nearly naked on his lap was exotic in a way she’d never experienced.
But she was ready for less clothes on him. Way less. Without breaking the kiss, she worked the hem of his T-shirt up until her breasts rubbed against his hair-covered chest.
“If you get to see mine, I should get to see yours,” she said with her lips against his, teasing out a smile from him.
“No one said this was going to be fair.” His voice held the hint of an erotic threat. Yet, he didn’t prolong her wait. He pulled his T-shirt off and tossed it over her shoulder.
She explored him with her eyes and hands, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He was masculinity encapsulated in flesh and blood, so unlike the groomed, fastidiousness of her ex-husband. She shook her head, trying to force Trevor out of her thoughts. He had no right to invade and dominate her life anymore.
Mack smoothed his hands over her hips and around her buttocks. The warmth from his big palms scored through the lace to her flesh. “What’s wrong?”
She tensed. “Nothing. Why?”
“I lost you for a second.”
The epicenter of the tremble was in her chest, but it flowed outward until her hand shook on his erection. He grabbed her wrist, pulled her hand away, and gathered her close, swinging her legs around until she was cradled in his lap.
He didn’t ask questions or demand answers. Instead, he stroked her hair and down her arm in a gesture that was meant to comfort her, but took a U-turn when his hand continued down her hip to tug at her underwear once more.
“It’s been awhile. A long while. The last time was with Trevor and he made me feel…” The mathematical symbol < jumped into her head. With Trevor, she was always on the “less than” side of the equation. Squeezed to zero compared to everything Trevor wanted and was. Not as smart or well bred or attractive. “He made me feel less than.”
“That’s bullshit he shoveled to keep you down. He needed you to feel less than so he could feel big, but you proved him wrong.”
Mack had a way of blustering past her insecurities to rip the curtain away. His confidence in her strength, as misplaced as it might be, gave her courage. She turned in his embrace to kiss him and draw his hand between her legs. He caressed up her inner thigh. Her legs fell apart and her pelvis tilted.
By the time his fingers made contact, she hovered on the brink of something special. Maybe even momentous. He teased her over the thin, damp lace.
“Mack, please.” Her voice was husky and embarrassingly begging.
He stood and cradled her to his chest as if she was a featherweight. “Not so fast. My job is to make sure you understand you’re not less than. You’re … everything.”
Her breath caught. Darkness had fallen while they’d been testing each other on the couch, but even with the shadows darkening his eyes, she sensed his earnestness.
He laid her on the edge of the bed, pushed her knees apart, and stepped in between. Laid out for his viewing pleasure, she felt both shy and powerful. The woman she aspired to be clung to the power, and she raised her arms above her head, hoping the arch of her back and slight shimmy would spur him into action.
It did. But it wasn’t the action she expected. He squatted, his shoulders forcing her legs farther apart. Had he dropped something? She came up in her elbows and only had time to open her mouth to ask before he grabbed the hip strings of her underwear and ripped them.
The sudden strength of the move shocked her. He tossed the tattered lace over his shoulder.
“Those were expensive.” She huffed.
“They were in my way.”
He wrapped his hands around her thighs and pulled her closer to the edge. She fell back. Was she dreaming? His beard tickled her inner thighs and a giggle slipped out as she squirmed.
“What’s so funny?” His breath was warm on her most intimate of places, squashing her giggles.
“Your beard tickles.”
He rubbed his cheek against her inner thigh, this time the feeling not at all tickly, but rough and arousing. Without warning, he made contact with his tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit the inside of her mouth.
She tried to relax. Trevor had been totally into receiving but not giving. At her age and with a multi-year-long marriage behind her, her inexperience was embarrassing.
Her legs had locked at his shoulders. He pulled away, and she was relieved but painfully aware she was a disappointment.
“Relax,” he whispered.
“I’m not sure I can.”
“Why not?” He kissed the inside of her thigh as his hand kneaded one side of her butt.
It felt so delicious, she lost the train of her worries. “Because … because…”
He wiggled his tongue straight through her to suck at her most sensitive spot.
How could she not give him a measure of her truth, considering she was naked and his head was between her legs? “No one’s ever … you know … done this before. To me, I mean. I’m sure lots of men—women too—have done it plenty.” She sealed her mouth shut to stop her babbling.
His pause seemed loaded. “Then I’d better make it unforgettable.”
He pressed his lips against her and hummed, the vibrations setting off a tsunami in her belly. His tongue was gentle and thorough, exploring every square inch before making its way back to where she ached for him.
He hadn’t seemed disappointed or put off by her confession. If anything, his determination to please her had kicked into overdrive. The least she could do was let him, right? She closed her eyes and focused on the spiraling pleasure. Spearing her hands through his hair, she set her heels on the edge of the bed and let instinct guide her.
She rotated her hips, chasing the combination of pressure and speed that would get her over the edge, but unable to find it. A mewl of want and desperation and frustration escaped.
His hand joined the undertaking, his touch gentle. Which is why, when he roughly plunged a finger inside of her, she launched into a climax so intense, the space-time continuum ceased to exist.
Mack pumped his finger and circled his tongue to give her more and more and more. She didn’t feel less than with Mack.
Her legs flopped open, her body lax and sated in a way she’d never experienced. He rose, his hands trailing from her knees to her waist, leaned down, and touched his lips to hers. He was undemanding, only asking for a kiss in return. A kiss that ta
sted erotically foreign.
But she wanted more. She wanted everything. With a franticness she couldn’t put into words, she sat up, pushed him to standing, and yanked at his belt. She brushed over his erection and licked her lips. If anything, it was even more prominent than it had been on the couch.
He put his hands over hers and stilled her fumbling. “Are you sure?”
The simple fact he didn’t assume he could take whatever he wanted only added to her determination.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” The declaration sounded melodramatic to her ears, but it was the truth.
She got his belt unbuckled and his zipper halfway down when the chime of the doorbell froze them. Ignoring it, she went back to work on his pants. She didn’t want whatever they were selling. She only wanted Mack between her legs.
Megan’s voice echoed in the two-story foyer and down the hall to her room, muffled but agitated. “Why are you here? It’s over. I told you that already.”
“Dammit all to hell and back,” she muttered.
Why did Trevor have to insert himself at the worst possible moment? It was like her ex had sensed she was ready and willing to give herself over completely to Mack. Maybe Megan could handle Trevor, and she and Mack could get down to business. But Mack buckled his belt and left her on the bed, grabbing his T-shirt and pulling it over his head.
She flopped back and felt like throwing a tantrum that would make any two-year-old proud. Mack was right though. Ella couldn’t in good conscience leave Megan to face Trevor on her own. Ella rolled off the bed and pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, forgoing a bra out of expediency.
“What’s he doing here?” Mack asked.
“Trying to convince Megan to take him back.”
“Will she?”
Ella stopped with her hand on the doorknob and blew out a breath. “I honestly don’t know. She’s talked about moving to Cottonbloom for good and getting a job.”
The sound of Trevor’s voice reverberated, the anger apparent but the words indistinct. They had moved farther into the house. She opened the door and led the way. Mack maneuvered himself ahead of her, and she got the feeling he was trying to protect her.
Megan and Trevor had moved into the living room, a formal, stark space that generally went unused. In fact, most of her house went unused, except for the kitchen, den, and master bedroom. The second-floor balconies and wraparound porch had drawn her to the house and given it a storybook look, but she’d never spent significant time on either. She’d bought the house to fulfill a childish daydream, but found it impossible to replicate the magic.
Trevor had cornered Megan between a couch and a side table. His unintelligible whisper was snakelike with venom.
Mack stopped halfway in the room and took up more space than his physical presence would suggest. His hair was mussed, and his T-shirt was half-tucked and inside out. He was an angry bear woken from hibernation. A super-sexy angry bear.
“Trevor. I would appreciate a call before you show up at my house.” Ella put a hand on Mack’s arm and scooted around him. Although she appreciated having backup, Trevor was her problem.
“I shouldn’t have to call to visit my wife.” He imbued the word with a possessiveness only too familiar to Ella. Once upon a time, he’d spoken about her like that.
“This is my house, and I made it clear last time you are not welcome. Now get out.” She crossed her arms under her breasts.
Trevor’s gaze darted down, and she cursed herself for not spending five extra seconds to put a bra on. The urge to cover her chest came with a decent amount of shame. If he pulled from his well-used playbook, he would accuse her of betrayal or worse, even though they were long past that point in their history.
But why should she feel any shame? Her decisions regarding Mack didn’t concern Trevor. Not anymore. She forced her arms to her side and her shoulders back, daring him to comment.
With a glance over her shoulder at Mack, he seemed to realize he was in the weaker position and took a different stance, one of honey. “I want to work things out, but I need a chance.”
“Your chances are used up with me. This is Megan’s decision.”
Just say no. Ella attempted to send the chant telepathically to Megan.
“I don’t know. It would be easier for everyone.” The resolve and confidence Megan had accrued since arriving in Cottonbloom had been squandered, and the uncertainty in her voice was like a red flag to Trevor’s bully personality.
Ella exchanged a glance with Mack. It would be all around easier for her if Megan left. Ella didn’t need or want a roommate, especially one with such complicated ties to her old life. But, one thing Ella understood intimately—what was easier wasn’t always right. She’d tolerated too much because the alternative of choosing what was best for her seemed too difficult.
“Come with me tonight.” Trevor circled closer for the kill. “Your parents would be thrilled to see us together at their barbeque this weekend.”
“You talk to them?”
“Every day.”
Megan gnawed on her bottom lip and looked from Trevor to Ella. If she stayed silent, Megan would leave tonight, and Ella could drag Mack back to her bedroom to take what she wanted so bad it hurt.
“You’ve got a job interview tomorrow, Megan. It’s too late to cancel without ruining your chances.” Ella stepped up to stand next to Trevor in an attempt to neutralize his influence.
“A job?” Trevor made a scoffing sound. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t need to work. We’ll have your inheritance.”
Megan met Ella’s gaze and slowly her chin lifted and her eyes narrowed. Somewhere deep inside, she had located some gumption. “Not if I divorce you. I need to be able to take care of myself like Ella does.”
Trevor snorted. “Yeah, right. It’s my money that bought this place and everything in it. Money she had no right to.”
Ella balled her hands into fists and visualized punching Trevor right in the face. Or raising a knee to his balls. “I deserved every penny, and you know it. I only wish I’d done it sooner.”
Trevor’s darting gaze settled on Mack. “You’d better watch this one. Once she gets you in her web, she’ll bleed you dry for the privilege of sharing her bed.” His tone was conspiratorial and teasing as if engaging in so-called locker room guy talk, but with his typical marked cruelty.
Before she could form a harsh enough insult, Mack grabbed the front of Trevor’s shirt and raised him to his toes. “You want to say that again?”
“Let me go.” Trevor grabbed Mack’s wrist with both hands, but Mack, the bigger man in every way, didn’t budge.
Ella was unchristian enough to revel in the thread of fear in Trevor’s voice. It wasn’t often he’d crossed paths with anyone willing to stand up to him. His money and status kept him insulated in Jackson. But Cottonbloom wasn’t Jackson, and Mack wasn’t like any other man Ella had ever met.
“Let me summarize the conversation that just took place for you.” An impressive calm left Mack’s expression stony even as Trevor squirmed in his hold. “Megan has a job interview tomorrow and will be staying here. She will contact you if she so desires. You’re not to call or text her. Ella doesn’t want you at her house anymore, so don’t come back. Now, I’m going to walk you out, and I’d advise you to make for Jackson immediately before I lose my temper.”
Mack released Trevor and pointed toward the front door. Trevor smoothed the crumple left by Mack’s fist and shot a heated glance over his shoulder at her and Megan. Ella managed not to stick her tongue out at him, but nothing could stem her good riddance smirk. His gait stiff, he stalked out of the living room, and Mack followed.
The front door opened and shut, and the chain and deadbolt rattled. The finality of the sound triggered tears in Megan. Not delicate, manipulative tears, but a good ugly cry. Ella put an arm around Megan’s shoulders and rocked her back and forth uttering nonsense like “He’s an utter bastard” and “There, there.”
&n
bsp; “I still love him and part of me wanted to go back to him. A big part.” Megan wiped her running nose on her sleeve like a little kid. In fact, she was young in both years and trials. Until now, her life had been blessed. Ella hoped she’d emerge from this situation stronger and wiser.
“Why didn’t you?” Ella asked.
“I’ve gotten a glimpse of what my life could be like without him. Without my parents hovering and controlling me. And without the expectations that are tied to their acceptance. You’re happy, right? With him.” Megan tilted her head toward the hallway where Mack could very well be standing outside listening to them.
Was she happy? She wasn’t sure. She was confused. Fascinated. Excited. But happy? She wasn’t sure she understood the concept. It was too simple. “I’m content with where I am right now.”
“You have Trevor’s money though.”
Although Megan had not meant it unkindly, the assessment stung. It was what everyone thought. She was a gold digger living off her divorce settlement. Except, she had been the investor with the magic touch, not Trevor. She’d made him rich beyond what he’d thought possible, but he’d never given her the credit. She’d never asked for it—a mistake she refused to make again.
“My road is different than yours. I can’t tell you how to travel it, but I don’t mind if you stay here to figure it out.”
“Thanks, Ella. It means a lot.” Megan hugged her. Not a polite pat-on-the-back-and-break-apart hug, but a tight hug that lasted longer than Ella was comfortable with.
Mack poked his head around the doorjamb and raised his eyebrows. She sent her regrets with a shake of her head. Even if he stayed, rekindling the magic after the emotionally wrenching confrontation with Trevor would result in something less than satisfying. She didn’t want her ex haunting her while she was with Mack. Was that asking for the impossible?
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