Spellbound Falls

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Spellbound Falls Page 20

by Janet Chapman


  “Then go on,” he said, nodding toward her door. “Back your words with action.”

  “I—I can’t. My seat belt’s stuck, remember?”

  He smiled. “I believe it will unfasten now, if you truly wish it to.”

  She frowned, reaching down and pushing the button, only to gasp when the buckle slipped free of the lock. “What the—” Her gaze shot to his. “I swear the damn thing was stuck.”

  “Something certainly was,” he muttered, opening his door and getting out.

  Olivia opened her own door to get out, but before her feet hit the ground she gave a squeak of surprise when he swept her up in his arms.

  “You’ve gotten very noisy all of a sudden for a kitchen mouse,” he said as he carried her up the cabin steps. He stopped at the door and arched a brow. “Which has me curious as to what other sweet little noises you might make,” he murmured thickly, nudging open the door and stepping inside.

  Had he just called her a mouse?

  Only instead of setting her down, he pushed the door closed with his foot, strode over to the large fieldstone fireplace, and set her on her feet in front of it. And then he had to grab her heavy wool coat to hold her steady when Olivia suddenly turned to jelly at the realization that this honest to God was going to happen.

  Using his grip on her lapels, he pulled her closer and leaned down, his mouth stopping just shy of hers. “I would know you trust me if you stopped trembling,” he said, his lips brushing hers. “I won’t hurt you, Olivia, I promise.”

  She couldn’t stop trembling. “I’m not… I don’t… it’s been a long time for me, Mac.” She gave him a self-deprecatory smile. “And I’m not afraid of you but for you.”

  Instead of kissing her—even though she rose up on her toes to meet him—he cupped her head to his chest with a groan. “Ah, Olivia; sometimes I wonder if you’re not your own worst enemy.”

  “Yeah, well, just so you know, I lied to Sophie last night,” she muttered into his sweater. “I didn’t exactly have a whole bunch of boyfriends before I met Keith. And the guys I did date never felt compelled to write See Olivia Naglemeyer for a good time on any bathroom walls. Is it hot in here?” she asked, stepping away to unbutton her coat as she finally looked around the cabin. “Good Lord, this place is a museum!”

  “Olivia.”

  “Everything looks authentic,” she said, tossing her coat on the couch as she rushed to the kitchen alcove. She stopped and brushed her hand over the table with a semihysterical laugh. “This sure as hell isn’t a reproduction.”

  “Olivia.”

  “Everything we have at Inglenook is junk,” she whispered, turning to him even as she felt her eyes fill with tears. “You’re used to five-star establishments and service, and I can’t even give you… one star,” she finished lamely, spinning away. “Everything we have is just j-junk.”

  What had she been thinking? She was a nobody bastard orphan from a three-car town down on the coast who didn’t have any business obsessing over a man who paid more for a room for one night than she earned in a month. And she’d stuck him in a forty-year-old cabin with creaky old beds and tilting floors and a roof that leaked every time it rained.

  She sure as hell didn’t have any business being here, pretending she was pretty and sexy and… and worldly enough to have an affair with him. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to hold Keith’s interest more than a few years before he’d gone looking for a prettier, sexier, worldlier woman.

  She flinched when Mac encircled her from behind, and dropped her head when he locked his hands together below her breasts, effectively pinning her arms at her sides. “Are you through?” he whispered against her ear.

  She shuddered. “Oh yeah, I’m done.”

  “Then I suggest you hold yourself as still as possible,” he said, his hands moving up to the top button on her blouse.

  She immediately reached up to stop him. “W-what are you doing?”

  “Hush, Olivia.” He pulled her hands down and pressed them to her sides. “I’ll let you know if I need your help.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, causing his fingers to brush her breasts on their way back up to her neck, the intimate touch making her shudder again.

  “Not knowing anything of your past,” he said, his tone conversational as he undid the top button of her blouse and moved down to the next, “I have no idea when you first developed the notion that hiding in the shadows was preferable to standing in the light.” He moved on to the next button. “And I do hate to destroy your illusion, Olivia, but you haven’t quite managed the art of becoming completely invisible—at least not to me.” He pulled her blouse from the waist of her slacks and finished undoing the last two buttons. “Your inner light gave you away, little one, and the only star here tonight is glowing with the brilliance of ten thousand suns.”

  He pulled her blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor between them. Using his jaw to move her hair out of the way as his hands dropped to the waistband on her slacks, he kissed her neck, making her legs buckle as she moaned in pleasure.

  “No, you will stand for me.”

  She locked her knees against the onslaught of sensations coursing through her, feeling the zipper on her slacks slide down so slowly she nearly stopped breathing.

  “Um, could you be a little less unrushed?” she groaned, trying to push down her slacks and panties at the same time. Because really, now that it was actually happening, she was going to just die if he didn’t hurry up so she could feel all his wonderful strength moving inside her.

  He captured her hands again and pressed them against her hips. “Sorry, but I keep my word,” he murmured against the racing pulse on her neck, sending tremors of delicious heat straight to her groin. “Don’t move,” he said, straightening away—though his hands hovered next to her shoulders momentarily before disappearing completely.

  Lord, she wanted to spin around and throw herself at him.

  No, she wanted to confidently turn around and undress him.

  Slowly. Eagerly. Maddeningly unrushed.

  Dusk had fallen, the only light in the cabin coming from the blazing fire in the hearth behind them. Olivia watched the shadow of Mac’s body on the wall she was facing as he pulled his sweater off over his head—even as she noticed that her own shadow was completely swallowed up by his. She jumped when she felt the back clasp of her bra suddenly open, and held it to her breasts when he slid the straps off her shoulders.

  “Let it fall away, Olivia.”

  God help her, she couldn’t. Granted, she was otherwise naked but for the bra covering her breasts and her knee-high socks and slacks gathered at her ankles, but… oh, God, they were at the totally naked part.

  Only problem was, no man had seen her naked in more than six years.

  She heard Mac sigh, saw his shadow shrugging out of his shirt, and then felt the crisp material settle over her shoulders.

  “Slide your arms into the sleeves.”

  But that meant she’d have to let go of her bra.

  “Are you a tigress or a kitchen mouse?” he whispered.

  Did mice and tigers have boobs that headed south on their thirtieth birthday? Because honest to God, she’d swear she’d looked in the mirror one day and found the damn things two inches below her elbows. Why in hell did he think she’d worn such heavy lace armor tonight, anyway?

  “Here’s an idea,” she said, addressing his shadow on the wall. “How about if I go into the bedroom and get in bed”—where gravity wouldn’t be an issue—“and you come in two minutes later… um, without your clothes on?”

  She heard him sigh again, this time hard enough that she felt her hair move.

  She gasped when he swept her off her feet and plastered her against his big broad naked chest, just as her shoes fell to the floor followed almost immediately by her dangling pants and panties. Only instead of heading for the nice dark bedroom, he carried her over to the big bright blazing fire. Or more specifically, over to what lo
oked like a thick feather bed topper positioned on the floor in front of it, covered in a deep hunter green sheet.

  How in hell had she missed that earlier?

  Olivia still continued clutching her bra as he laid her down, worried that instead of going south her boobs would head east and west the moment she let go. She quickly canted one leg over the other, remembering she was naked from the waist down.

  Well, except for her stupid, unsexy knee-highs.

  But she’d had their first time together all planned out, intending to undress in the bathroom, slip into bed while he was doing… something else, and shutting off the beside lamp before he came in, because… well, because she was pretty confident she felt a lot better than she looked. Only he’d ruined everything.

  God, was that fire bright or was it just her?

  He settled on the feather bed between her and the hearth—conveniently putting her in the shadow of his body—and slowly ran a finger down her scorching cheek. “Touch me, Olivia,” he said quietly.

  She stopped breathing. Ohmigod, she’d been so self-absorbed with her flaws and insecurities she’d completely forgotten about Mac.

  She wasn’t the only one who needed to get naked for this to work, and she sure as hell couldn’t be the only one feeling unsure of themselves. Why else would the man have paid a small fortune to give her a romantic evening—right down to a feather bed in front of a blazing fire—if he wasn’t feeling equally desperate to impress her?

  And she was ruining the plans he had obviously spent the afternoon concocting.

  She sat up and let go of her bra, immediately slipped her arms into the sleeves of his shirt, then quickly shed her knee-highs. She lay back on her side facing him, only to go slightly dizzy at the sight of his broad, wonderfully naked chest—the one that she’d just been given the go-ahead to touch.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, running her fingers through the soft hair covering some really impressive muscles as she worked her way toward his belt.

  He stopped her. “There really is no rush. We have all night,” he said, the deep timbre in his voice sending a shiver of anticipation through her.

  She suddenly dropped her head onto his chest with a groan. “My purse is in the truck,” she muttered, even as she brushed the soft down on his chest with her lips when she turned to look at him. “I—I don’t suppose you have a condom on you?”

  The torso she was leaning on rose and fell with a heavy sigh, making her suck in her breath when it brushed against her sensitive nipples. “I’ve seen to that particular problem,” he said, gesturing toward the hearth—where Olivia saw a bowl carved from a burl of wood, full of… good Lord, there had to be two dozen condoms in there! She pressed her face to his chest in utter and complete awe at the service money could buy.

  Oh God, she hoped Sylvia Pinkham hadn’t seen her in the front seat of the truck when the resort owner had given him the gate key. Because if she had, it would be all over Turtleback Station and eventually Spellbound Falls that Livy Baldwin was having a flaming affair with a man who had ordered a romantic seduction complete with a feather bed in front of the hearth and a bowl full of condoms.

  Mac smoothed down her hair. “Touch me, Olivia.”

  Seriously, she had to get over herself. If she wanted to have an affair, it was nobody’s business but hers. Well, hers and the half-naked guy she was sprawled over.

  Dammit, she needed to stay focused before another six years went by!

  Only just as she decided to have another go at his belt buckle, she heard him mutter something about wanting five minutes alone with… somebody, just as he reared up, rolled her onto her back and settled rather intimately between her naked thighs.

  And this time she didn’t have any problem reading the look in his eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For the love of Zeus, he’d known simpering virgins less shy than Olivia. Mac couldn’t tell what was going on inside that beautiful head of hers, but he’d let her stall long enough. He’d almost gotten her engaged by asking for her touch, but even that hadn’t seemed to get her out of her head and into the room with him.

  “W-wait,” she stammered, pushing against his chest to hold him at bay.

  By the gods, if he waited any longer Henry would be a grown man by the time they left this room. He gently pressed his groin into hers. “No, don’t close your eyes. I want you to see how you affect me, Olivia. Watch how my skin tightens and shudders at your touch.”

  That seemed to get her attention as she snapped her gaze to his chest. She hesitantly combed her fingers through his pelt of hair with a feathery touch, her eyes widening when his muscles reacted with an involuntary tremor. Her other hand moved to trail one single finger down to his nipple, drawing a circle around it before moving even lower to his ribs, causing every muscle in his body to tense in response.

  And still Mac held himself perfectly still against her sweet torture, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her deep round eyes sparkling like mulled wine, her lips parting as her plump, feminine breasts rose and fell with her quickening breaths. He finally bent at the elbows just enough to lower his mouth to hers, pressing against her inviting lips even as she rose to meet him.

  Sweet heaven, he’d promised he wouldn’t rush, but he could see now that he’d made the vow in haste as her sometimes hesitant, sometimes bold explorations drove Mac a little frantic himself. He moved his mouth along her cheek, down to her jaw and then to her throat, pressing on her racing pulse to suckle a moan from her.

  “Are you keeping your eyes open?” he asked as he trailed a moist path down over her collarbone, shifting so that he was even with her breasts. “Watch your own response, cinnamon eyes.”

  He pulled one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her to arch up with a gasp. Her fingers dug into his back, her legs wrapping around his as if she were afraid he’d suddenly disappear.

  By the gods, she was definitely in the room with him now.

  He suckled gently, then lifted his head and blew on her delicious nipple, watching it respond before returning to it again as she gave a deep moan and quivered in response. Her hands became bolder, slipping inside his trousers then sliding all the way up his back to his shoulders.

  Her breath quickened when he trailed his lips across the valley of her chest to lavish attention on her other nipple, pulling it inside and then worrying its responsive peak with his tongue. She grew restless beneath him, her legs sliding along his as she at first pulled and then pushed at him with building frustration.

  He captured her directionless hands and held them to her sides as he shifted again to bring his head lower still, dipping his tongue into her delicate navel as he repositioned his grip on her arms when she reared up with a gasp.

  “Ohmigod, you can’t,” she rasped, straining against his hold. “I’m not… you shouldn’t… Ohhhh,” she keened when his mouth closed over her delicate bud in an intimate kiss.

  He immediately felt the storm begin to gather inside her, her body tensing with pulsing heat even as he realized her raggedly panted protests were no longer aimed at him but at herself. His own body shaking with need, Mac continued his loving assault as he fought his urge to be inside her when she crested, afraid if he took even a moment to put on a condom she’d slip back into the shadows. So he pressed on, sliding his forearms under her bottom to lift her to him.

  He felt her straining toward release, her body growing damp with her efforts. And then she suddenly stilled but for the shuddering tremors coming from deep inside her, her shout of pleasure sending Mac precariously close to the edge of his control.

  With his mind all but screaming that what he was about to do could very well be the end of him, Mac nevertheless rose to his knees, undid the buckle of his belt, and pushed his pants down. He quickly sheathed himself in a condom, then lifted Olivia’s hips—only to stop just as he was poised to enter her sweet, welcoming heat. He spanned his thumbs across her belly, his fingers flexing into the soft
flesh when she raised her hands to his shoulders—not to hold him at bay but to urge him inside her.

  “Yes, Mac, come into me,” she rasped, her body writhing with lingering pulses of pleasure. “Now. I need to feel you moving inside me now.”

  Yet still he hesitated, his mind asking for reason even as his heart pounded with the need to claim her. “Open your eyes, Olivia,” he commanded. “And say you want to be mine.”

  “Oh, for the love of— No more games.” Her fingers dug into his arms and she lifted her hips toward him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been yours since the day we met.”

  Fully aware that she didn’t have a clue what was really happening between them, and knowing he was already damned either way, Mac carefully eased inside her to finally and irrevocably claim Olivia as his.

 

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