The Day He Kissed Her

by Juliana Stone

  She was really going to have to work on her physical reaction to him if she was seriously going to consider the plan settling in the back of her mind.

  “Looking good, Boston.” His voice was low and seductive, and it instantly had all sorts of warning bells going off inside her. With a toss of her head, she pushed back those warning bells. “I like the natural look on you.”

  “You look hot and sweaty.”

  “I am,” he said casually, taking a step up. “Hot.” He took another step until his head was level with her chest. A chest that he stared at wickedly. A chest that was once again saluting him.

  “And sweaty,” he added, a touch of rasp in his voice.

  She swallowed slowly, and her heart picked up again as his eyes moved to her throat.

  “If you were a nice lady, you’d invite me in for a drink.”

  “I’m not,” she managed to say cheekily. “A nice lady. Besides, I just watched you drain an entire water bottle.” The words popped out before she could stop them, and Lily’s cheeks heated as a slow grin touched his mouth.

  “You’re a watcher.” He cocked his head and winked. “Good to know.”

  One more step, and his head was level with hers.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked, his direct gaze never wavering.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “I can see that.” He reached for her, and Lily froze, muscles pulled so tight that they ached.

  She held her breath, afraid to breathe when his fingers brushed across her forehead. The touch was light—like a feather—yet it rocked into her, touching parts of her that it had no right to touch.

  He glanced down at his fingers, and she followed his gaze, licking her lips at the sight of a dark, black smudge. It was from her heavy sketching pencil and she knew that she must look a mess.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “Lead.” Simple. To the point.

  “Are you an artist, Lily? Do you like to draw?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s nice.”

  Mac took that last step, and she inched back.

  “I’d like to see your work.”

  “I don’t show my stuff to just anyone,” she retorted, finding a bit of that fire she so desperately needed.

  Mac grinned down at her. “Well now,” he said like it was a secret. “I’m not just anyone, Boston.”

  “No?” she replied, hiding the smile she felt inside. “Who exactly are you, Mackenzie Draper?”

  He winked. “I’m the guy you’re going to invite inside.”

  A shot of heat sat low in Lily’s gut. “Really?”

  “And you’re going to feed me because I’m starved.”

  “Huh.”

  “And maybe find me something cold to drink.” He paused. “I’ll even let you watch…if you want to.”

  Lily shook her head, but she couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at her lips. “What if I’m done watching, and what if I’m not in the mood for company?”

  Mac bent forward, and Lily’s eyes fell to his gorgeous mouth. A mouth that was made for kissing and licking, and suckling.

  The ache in her gut intensified, spreading lower and settling between her legs.

  He was so close that only a whisper separated them.

  “Trust me, darlin’. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  He was unbelievable. And arrogant. And confident. And hot.

  And so damn sexy that if she didn’t move, Lily was afraid she’d melt into a puddle right there in front of him.

  Jesus! Get it together.

  “One drink,” she said as she turned and opened the door.

  Mackenzie followed her into the house, and she waited for him to doff his running shoes, which left him barefoot as well. She wasn’t petite by any means, standing just over five feet six inches, but he had to be at least six three or four, and his frame towered over hers.

  She proceeded down the hall and took a left into the kitchen, not realizing he hadn’t followed her until she turned around. Stepping through the dining area, she leaned against the door frame that faced the large family room she’d made into a studio and watched him as he stopped in front of her easel. She had several sketches strewn around the room, but he’d homed in on her current piece.

  It was a stark, simplistic winter landscape of Crystal Lake, with bare trees, angry skies, and footprints in the snow that led nowhere.

  Palms damp once more, her heart skipped when he looked up and caught her watching.

  Her work was so personal. And truthfully, the only person she’d shared this stuff with had been her brother, Blake. Her father had scoffed at her idea of being an artist, and though he’d paid for her education, not once had he expressed interest in her work. Not even Jake had seen the stuff she was working on.

  Mackenzie ran his hands through his still-damp hair and leaned down to get a better look at a large sketch leaning against the fireplace. The muscles along his back moved as he bent forward, and she found herself mesmerized by the play of shadows across him.

  He was beautiful.

  There was no other word to describe him. Everything perfectly balanced and in proportion. She’d love to sketch him.

  Suddenly embarrassed and unsure, Lily escaped back into the kitchen. What the hell was she doing? Mackenzie Draper wasn’t a young boy that she could control. He was a grown man with appetites and desires and, contrary to her reputation, a hell of a lot more experience than she had.

  Lily had always been a great actor, able to hide behind walls so thick she could be anybody. But she had a feeling that he’d smash through those walls pretty quickly if she wasn’t careful.

  “You’ve got a lot of talent.”

  She froze when she heard his voice.

  “Thanks,” she said softly, cocking her head to the side. “What do you want to drink? I’ve got wine or beer or…tequila.”

  Mackenzie moved beside her and leaned against the kitchen counter.

  “So you’re a tequila girl.”

  A faint smile touched her lips. Tequila reminded her of Jake and Texas.

  “You could say that. But I only drink it on certain occasions.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “Such as?”

  She shrugged and opened the fridge. “Tequila is for forgetting, and it usually involves some backward Honky-Tonk, Texas, and Jake Edwards.”

  Lily grabbed two cold beers and tossed one to Mackenzie. He grabbed it, popped open the lid, and raised the can in toast. “So, this is good then.”

  “Good?” Lily took a sip, watching him warily.

  “Sure,” he said. “I don’t want to be the guy you forget.” He winked. “Trust me, you don’t want me to be that guy.”

  “How do you know I’ve not forgotten everything about you except the fact that you’re incredibly arrogant and full of yourself?”

  Mackenzie set his beer down on the countertop and rolled his shoulders before glancing back at her. “When I look into your eyes, I see New Year’s Eve. I see every moment of that night, and you remember every single bit of it as much as I do.”

  Damn, there went her heart again, speeding ahead and making her feel more than a little dizzy. Lily gripped the chair in front of her, glad that she had something to lean on for support.

  Mackenzie trailed his hands across the dark granite counter, his forearms glistening with golden skin. “I look at this counter and I see you bent over it.”

  Okay, her knees were going to give way if she didn’t get a hold of herself. Flashes of naked skin, of masculine shoulders, and of her fingers gripping the edge of the granite—of Mackenzie behind her, his hot, sweaty, and naked body sliding into her—made her weak, and she took a step back.

  She felt as if they were dancing around the entire New Year’s Eve thing, and frustrated, she shook her
head, her voice not as controlled as she would like.

  “I’m not having sex with you tonight, Mackenzie.”

  He thrummed his fingers on the granite, a devilish glint in his eye, a wicked smile on his mouth. “Maybe not,” he said casually. “But, Boston, we’ve got all summer. And though I’m not real big on the whole being patient thing, when it’s something I want, I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

  I can’t do this with him.

  “So why don’t we take our time and see where this goes? No strings. No expectations. Let’s just roll with it.”

  Lily considered his words carefully, her pulse beating a rhythm she hadn’t felt since the last time she’d laid eyes on him. She wanted to pursue this. Whatever the hell this was.

  “No strings?” she asked.

  He shook his head and took a step closer. “Nope.”

  “I call the shots?”

  “I don’t mind a woman being in control. That’s kind of sexy.”

  He bent his head and her lips parted, waiting for his mouth—wanting to feel him on her. Against her. In her.

  Lily closed her eyes. She felt his heat invade every pore on her skin and just when she couldn’t stand the anticipation anymore…

  Just when her hands started to creep upward, intent on burying themselves deep in hair at the back of his head…

  He whispered against her ear and a whole new set of shivers rushed across her skin.

  “Do you have any meat in the freezer?”

  It took a moment for her to process his words, and she yanked her head back, annoyed at the grin on his face.

  “Meat?”

  “Steak maybe?” he asked with a nod toward the fridge. “I’m starving. Thought I’d barbecue us up something.”

  Slowly she moved away from him. Already he thought he had the upper hand.

  A thrill shot through Lily, and she let her eyes move down his bare torso until she rested them on the nice package between his legs. “I’ve got some meat.”

  “Good. Do you want to get started?”

  Hell, yes.

  Lily nodded and moved aside. “After you, Mac.”

  Now if she’d been thinking clearly, the grin on her face would have faded immediately, and she would have run away as far and as fast as she could. Because Lily St. Clare wasn’t in control.

  She was so far from control that she wouldn’t know what control was if it bit her in the ass.

  As it was, Lily pointed Mackenzie toward the fridge and headed outside, toward the deck and the grill. She missed the wicked smile on his face and the way he eyed her up, as if she was the tasty piece of meat he’d be having for dinner.

  Lily St. Clare should have treaded lightly…

  Because from the looks of it, Mackenzie Draper was hungry.

  Chapter 9

  “You do have a shirt, right?”

  Mac glanced across the table at Lily. She looked annoyed. Maybe more than a little annoyed. Maybe kind of hot and bothered and annoyed. The thought made Mac smile, though he was careful to keep it hidden. He didn’t want to piss her off, but he sure as hell liked getting under her collar.

  The sexual buzz between them had grown steadily over the past few hours. It was thick and meaty and like an adrenaline rush—he was high on the effects of it, and it was a high he’d take any day. It had been a long time since a woman had gotten under his skin like this—a long time since he’d been so caught up in all of it.

  The seduction and the romance. He wasn’t an asshole. He knew what women wanted, and he was more than willing to give it to them—as long as they didn’t go getting any ideas about anything permanent.

  It was nearly nine, and they’d shared a great meal. The steaks had been grilled to perfection, something Mac had picked up working his way through college at a steak house in the city. The salad Lily had thrown together was simple but tasty—the caramelized walnuts had been a great touch—and the company? His eyes settled on Lily.

  The company was outstanding. Lily was smart, witty, and engaging. They’d danced around each other all night, and the sexual undercurrents were something else. Damn, when he finally got her back into his bed, it was gonna be explosive. The fun part was getting there.

  Mac took a sip of his red wine and settled back in the chair as he gazed at her over the rim of his glass.

  “Something bothering you, Boston?”

  Irritation flickered in the depths of her eyes, and Mac leaned back even more, totally enjoying himself.

  “Can we dispense with the Boston thing? Please? I get it, Mac. The accent. Ha. Ha. But it’s getting a little old, don’t you think? I do have a name.”

  Mac shook his head and answered without hesitating. “Nah.”

  Her eyebrow shot up. “Excuse me?”

  He couldn’t hold back his grin any longer, and her eyes narrowed dangerously as she gazed back at him. “I like calling you Boston.”

  “What if I don’t like you calling me that?”

  “You know you do.”

  She opened her mouth to say something but then snapped it shut. She took a good long sip from her wineglass and set it down carefully in front of her. She stared at the glass for a bit, her long, delicate fingers twirling around the edge. Damn, but she had beautiful hands. Mac thought of her artwork.

  Talented hands.

  He thought of New Year’s Eve, his mind wandering to a moment when her hands had been all over him. Caressing. Stroking. Holding and massaging.

  Lily St. Clare had really talented hands and her mouth…those lips…

  He moved a bit, trying to ease the ache between his legs, but it was no use. He’d been sitting across from Lily for the last hour and most of it had been spent with a raging hard-on. Watching her mouth, the way she swallowed, slow and sure, was enough to get the fantasies going. It was a good thing that she couldn’t see the situation between his legs because it would totally blow away his plan to be in control, or at the very least, his plan to appear to be in control.

  She looked up suddenly. “Tell me about your family.”

  Mac’s smile didn’t waver even though something cold and nasty stirred inside him. “Not much to tell. I’ve got three sisters and a brother.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you got?”

  When cornered, always deflect. It was a life lesson he’d learned before he even knew what it was. The easiest way to avoid fists coming your way was to place blame somewhere else. Didn’t exactly inspire sibling devotion, but it sure as hell saved his ass on more than one occasion.

  Lily wanted to know about his family? Hell, there was no way this Boston princess could even begin to comprehend the tragedy that was his childhood.

  “I’m not much for details.” He eyed her carefully. “What about you?”

  “Please,” she said, heavy on the sarcasm. “Do you seriously expect me to believe that you didn’t Google me?”

  Sure he had. It was the first thing he’d done when he’d gotten back to New York City. He knew all about Lily St. Clare, or rather, he knew what everyone else on the planet could find online. But that shit wasn’t real. It didn’t tell the entire story.

  “What’s up with your sister?” he asked.

  A slight tightening around her mouth told him that there was a lot there. Her sister was a few years older than Lily and she’d posed for Playboy, more than once, had been involved in an infamous sex tape scandal with some senator’s son, and had appeared in a reality show on MTV. There were numerous other half siblings, due to the fact that her father had remarried four times.

  The St. Clares as a whole were famous for being rich and beautiful, much like the Hilton girls, and from what Mac gathered, Lily’s sister was a mess.

  “Maddison and I aren’t close. Haven’t been for a long time.” Lily took another sip of wine and paused. “I had a brother
. Blake. He was…he was an amazing man, and I miss him a lot.”

  “He served with Jake and Jesse,” Mac said, eyes on her lower lip as it trembled slightly.

  Lily nodded. “Yes. After the incident…after the ambush that killed Jake’s brother and injured Blake, they brought him back here, to the States. Back to Texas. He hung on for a long time you know…he was so strong, but in the end he didn’t make it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She quickly changed focus. “What about you? Are you close to your siblings?”

  He thought of his older brother, Ben Jr., a guy he hadn’t seen in nearly five years—Mac had no idea where he was. Last he’d heard, Ben Jr. was in Hawaii, working as a pilot flying tourists around the islands, but who knew if he was still out there. His two older sisters, Lisa and Dara, had fled Crystal Lake when Mac was still in high school. They’d married guys they met in college, had kids of their own, and both lived on the West Coast, just outside of San Francisco.

  He hadn’t spoken to either of them since the Christmas before last, though he knew his mother kept in touch because she made it a point to let him know how well they were doing, how successful and happy they were. He wondered if it was bullshit. He wondered if they’d managed to break the cycle of violence or if they too hid bruises and broken arms behind closed doors. He thought of Becca, and his mood immediately darkened.

  “Mackenzie?”

  “Ah, not particularly. My younger sister is in town for the summer with her kid. She’s staying with my mother.”

  “Oh, how old is your…niece? Nephew?”

  “Nephew. Liam. And I think he’s…he’s ten.”

  “Ah,” Lily replied, her eyes thoughtful. “Just visiting?”

  Mac’s fingers tightened around the stem of his wineglass as an image of her black eye floated in front of him. “I have no idea. Her prick of a husband beat the shit out of her and put her in the hospital. But I wouldn’t be surprised if she heads back home before the week is out.”

  What the hell? Mac exhaled as he clamped down on the surge of emotion inside him. Why would he open his mouth like that?