Mack

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  “Why does that make you sad?” he asked, his voice low and deep.

  “Because I can’t remember it.”

  He smiled at me, brimming with cockiness. “Perhaps you need your memory jarred.”

  Suddenly, all these feelings welled up deep inside my chest. If I had to take a stab at identifying what it was, I’d have to say love.

  Yes, I loved him. Overwhelmingly, desperately, and deeply.

  I just didn’t know what to do with that. I had no experience whatsoever with needing someone and wanting them as much as this.

  Crap. I can’t do this. I was in way over my head here.

  Panic set in. I slid his hand off my chest and slowly sat up.

  “I don’t blame you,” he said, misreading my actions. “I wouldn’t want to risk it with a madman either.”

  I glanced down at him. He had his head propped up with one arm and was lying on his side. He looked so relaxed. So ruggedly sexy with his long, hard, lean frame stretched across the rug.

  “It’s not that.” I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

  “I hope you’re not going to leave me hanging.”

  I got up and sat back on the sofa, leaning forward with my face in my hands. I didn’t want to tell him what was going through my head even though I doubted it would shock him. “I think we should just—”

  “Now I insist you tell me.” I could hear the irritation in his voice. “Or is it that you’re too good to share your thoughts with someone you see as damaged. I’m still your patient in the back of your mind.”

  “What? No,” I snapped, dropping my hands. “I mean, yes, I want to help you. But I don’t think I’m too good.” If anything, I felt the opposite. If I wasn’t able to cope with my feelings at this juncture, I certainly wasn’t going to fare any better if we were intimate. And now that I’d thought about it, I was probably incapable of pleasing him anyway. To me, sex had been little more than a physical activity I performed with my boyfriend because it was required to keep him happy. Of course, it hadn’t. He’d ended up fucking my best friend to supplement his needs.

  “Then?” Mack asked.

  I blew out a breath. “It’s not easy to explain.”

  “You seem to have a gift for working through difficult conversations. I suggest you rely on that fancy PhD of yours.”

  “I, uhhh…Well, before I met you, I had a condition.”

  He sat up and twisted his body to face me, placing his back against the armchair. “Go on.”

  “I wasn’t able to really feel anything. Not like I do now.”

  He folded thick arms across his broad chest. “Feel how?”

  I shrugged. “Emotions. I didn’t have any. It was like that part of me was broken. I mean, I understood when situations were good or bad, and I knew the appropriate reaction—to smile because someone did something nice for me, to laugh when someone told a joke, to stay serious when someone said something sad, but I never really felt anything. I was just…numb.” I looked over at Mack, and he had the most peculiar expression on his face, like he was trying to figure something out.

  “And now?” he asked.

  “The moment our eyes met, that door was kicked wide open. You fixed me.”

  He pursed his lips and scratched his rough chin, producing a bristly sound I found oddly sensual.

  “I don’t know. Maybe…” his voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “I really don’t have a fucking clue.”

  “When you met me any of those other times, was I like that?”

  “No. You were normal. I mean to say—you-normal, not normal-normal. You are, after all, extraordinarily unique and beautiful regardless of the body you inhabit. You’re also a Seer,” he added.

  His comment made my toes tingle. I’d never felt adored before now. “Well, I really don’t feel like anything other than ill equipped to handle this entire situation.”

  “Trust me, you are powerful. And you’re equipped to handle anything. Even me.” He flashed the sweetest smile I could ever hope to see on a man—wicked or not.

  As I basked in the glow of that, the wheels started turning. Mia had said something about my having undiscovered gifts. The only thing I’d ever seen was that I had a very strong knack for diagnosing illnesses, not just in the psychology field either. I remember when I was five, my grandfather kept complaining of being tired. I told him his heart wasn’t giving him enough blood. I don’t know why I’d said that, other than it had somehow seemed obvious to me. My poor grandfather had a heart attack three days later. Luckily he survived and lived another ten years.

  Mack went on, “Seers are connected to that part of world that cannot be seen with the naked eye—the energy all around us, the light that makes up the soul, etcetera. You can draw from it and use it in ways that defy the laws of nature in this world. It’s not unheard of for a Seer to time travel.”

  “Damn. I feel cheated. The only thing I’ve gotten out of this is having dreams about your brother hunting me down like an animal. At least, I think it’s him.”

  Mack groaned. “Fucking King. If only you knew how many times we went at it because of you.”

  “Really?” I don’t know why it surprised me, but it did.

  “Really. Somehow, he’d sense when you were back and getting near to finding me. And then he’d hunt you down and kill you.”

  “But why did he think I would come after you like that? I mean, look at me now.”

  “He never said. Perhaps he feared I would beg you and you would be guilted into releasing me—like now.”

  I did feel an unstoppable need to save him, but I had zero desire to kill him. I think they’re operating under a huge misconception. If anything, earlier back at the hospital, I’d wanted to kill anyone and everyone but Mack. I felt protective of him.

  He continued, “I always knew King did it out of his own distorted sense of love for me, and, of course, I felt as guilty as hell that he’d given up his chance to truly live again for me. But there were quite a few centuries where I stayed as far away as I could from him.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Anywhere that I thought my skills might be useful. I fought in almost every war you could imagine—the Civil War, both World Wars, Korea—I followed the blood. I flew planes and helicopters, manned gunning stations, served in the infantry, drove tanks—I’ve done it all.”

  It was an oddly patriotic way to make lemonade out of his situation.

  “It wasn’t until the Gulf War that I finally gave it up,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “I was in charge of torturing prisoners. Three hundred and sixty-eight people experienced my handiwork. One day, I was overseeing the interrogation of a woman not much older than you are now. I remember thinking to myself that I knew she was hiding something. I could see it in her eyes. The two men in my command weren’t making any headway, so I took over. And there was a moment when she screamed that I woke up and realized where I was and what I was doing. Almost like I’d been in a daze for centuries. I was so sick, so disgusted with myself that I walked out and never looked back.

  “Afterwards, I was lost for a few years. I don’t remember much other than I traded my freedom to a woman who had a very special gift and could make me forget in exchange for…my services.”

  “By services, I’m guessing you mean sexual favors.” I saw no need to beat around the icky bush on that one.

  “More than that. She kept me tied up in her basement. King finally found me and bartered for my freedom, but I was gone. Mentally gone. It took him another few years to bring me back. But he never gave up.”

  “He really loves you.” I suddenly found myself conflicted about this King man. As for the rest of Mack’s story, it would take a lifetime—perhaps more—to truly digest what it meant to fight and kill like he had. It was just too damned…complicated.

  “My brother does love me,” Mack said. “Which was why I did everything I could to help get his life back. Now, he’s alive, free
of his curse, has Mia by his side, and a baby son.”

  There. That was it! The key to getting Mack to hope again. A little light had flickered in his eyes just then as he’d told me about his brother’s new life. He felt good about it. Perhaps it was something he even wanted for himself.

  “If your brother was cursed and not such a nice person, I can imagine he has difficulties letting go of the past.”

  Mack shook his head. “Everyone always thinks I’m the nice brother, the good one. But compared to me, King is a goddamned saint. I’ve killed thousands of people, Theodora.”

  I looked down at my hands, letting that sink in. “Most of them were in wars.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes. Because if you think you’re a monster for killing men during war, then logic would say that every person who has ever killed for their country is also unworthy of living. I’m sure that’s not how you feel.”

  “I killed because it made me feel good. Not because I gave a shit about politics or felt a patriotic need.”

  “Doesn’t matter why. The act was the same.”

  “It is very different—look, this is pointless, Theodora. We both know there’s much, much more I’m not telling you, so you’ll simply have to believe me when I say that I’m not a good man. I must be stopped.”

  Goddammit! He’s so fucking stubborn! Once again, the fact that he felt like he needed to die just to protect everyone from him was yet another testament to his good heart.

  “Okay. Fine. You’re horrible and evil. You deserve to die, which is why I’m going to kill you. Just as soon as you tell me about the other times we met—things I said or did or—” I needed more information. Facts.

  “There is no time. My brother will be here soon. I can already feel him getting closer.”

  Dammit. I knew that there was more going on here than just a simple case of me not being able to remember. Something must’ve happened to make me forget, and it was possible I had the answers to help Mack locked away inside.

  “Then just tell me about the last time we met.” I was desperate for answers or clues or anything that would tell me what to do.

  Mack groaned. Yes, it was a sexy deep groan. Ignore, ignore, ignore…

  “Please, Mack. Because after you’re gone, I will have lost my chance to know.” Of course, I had zero intentions of killing this beautiful man.

  Mack nodded solemnly and then lifted up his sleeve and pointed to one of the dates written in script on his arm. “This was the last one.”

  Holy shit. “Those tattoos are a record of us.”

  “Yes.”

  Frankly, for such a man to do something so sentimental made my insides liquefy into a sweet syrupy concoction. “That’s very…touching.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be. It was the only way I had to mourn my loss.”

  My brows furrowed. “I didn’t realize you took it so hard.”

  “Every time you died, a piece of me died with you. There’s nothing left now.”

  His words only cemented my resolve. I’m not throwing in the towel. No fucking way. My brain barely knew this man, but my heart did. And everything about him made me want to fight tooth and nail to keep him. But if I told him that, the monster would come out.

  Out of options, I did the only thing I could that might give him a reason to live. I stood up, pulled my T-shirt over my head, unsnapped my bra, and then slid down my jeans and panties.

  Still propped against the couch and sitting on the floor, Mack began grinning with a sweet, almost goofy smile. The kind a guy made when he wanted to get into a little mischief. “Hell. If I’d known showing you a few tattoos would get me into your pants, I would’ve led with that.”

  I kneeled down beside him, slid my hands to the back of his neck, and pulled him to my lips. I kissed him with everything I had. “Shut up and fuck me.”

  Those blue, blue eyes didn’t flinch, and those lips didn’t stop smiling. “If you insist, but I’m sorry to tell you that I won’t be giving you my best work.”

  I laughed. “What does that mean?”

  “I can feel King getting nearer, which means we have less than an hour. To give you a thorough fucking, I need at least six.”

  Never in a million years would I begin to understand how Mack and King were that connected. It was twin connection unlike anything I’d ever heard of. That said…

  “Six hours for sex?” I gulped.

  He shrugged. “Fucking is the other thing I’m really good at, but with you, and only you, I like to take my time and savor every second—do it slowly.”

  “I-I’ll take a raincheck on that slow-cook, savoring method.”

  His expression hardened. “No, Theodora. No more rainchecks. This is the last time.”

  “Ohmygod. We’ve done this before, haven’t we?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “But you said that your brother always found me first.”

  “I fucking lied.”

  “Why, Mack?”

  “Because I hate to think about the times when we found each other first and spent the night together. You tried to save me. Something always went wrong. You died. Sometimes while I watched.”

  Oh crap. How heartbreaking. No wonder he was crazy. I was beginning to think that he wanted to die just so he didn’t have to watch me be murdered by King again.

  What the hell was wrong with his brother?

  I offered Mack my most seductive smile, wanting him to forget what we’d just been talking about. “This doesn’t mean you changed your mind about the sex, does it?”

  He gave me another boyish smile, and I wondered if it was a glimpse of the real him—playful, sweet, carefree.

  “Just as long as you promise to keep your word,” he said.

  Did I really have to lie to this beautiful man?

  Whatever it takes.

  “Yes. I promise,” I fibbed like a common cheat.

  He plunged his tongue into my mouth and kissed me with reckless lust. His strong hands cupped my bare breasts, kneading and pinching my hard nipples. I moaned with sinful delight. This was what I wanted. Him. Me. Hard.

  I straddled his lap and frantically went to work on his button flies. He lifted his hips so I could slide his jeans down just far enough to spring his thick cock free.

  “Wow,” was all I could say when I looked at the thing. “That’s pretty impressive.”

  “Wait until you see what it can do,” he said with a hint of a proud smile and returned to kissing me.

  I slid my hands around his hard flesh, greedily stroking his insane thickness, wanting to work him into a painful frenzy mirroring how my own body felt.

  Kissing him wildly, one hand jerking him off, I positioned his soft, velvety head at my wet entrance. All I could think about was getting the length of him inside me. I’d never had sex with a man who was so well endowed, and I’d certainly never slept with one who made me feel like I might combust if I didn’t have him immediately.

  With his hands gripping my hips, he made a little flexing upward thrust, expediting his penetration.

  I threw my head back and gasped, feeling his large cock push its way, inch by inch, inside me. “Ohgod. You feel so good, Mack.”

  Meanwhile, he sucked on my nipple, almost to the point of pain, while his soft tongue made sinful little circles around the tip.

  I rose up on my knees, relishing the delicious friction of his erection sliding out. He moaned in a deep masculine voice that made me want to hear it again. I slammed down on his dick, the excitement and pleasure of it intermingling with the sounds of our heavy breathing and groans.

  “Again,” he demanded, his gravelly voice filled with lust.

  I slowly rose up again, sliding him out, cupping the back of his silky head of dark hair, kissing him hard. I then brought the weight of my body down on him, the tip of his shaft colliding with the entrance to my womb, sparking a gasp from my mouth and a deep moan from his.

  Still deep inside me, he suddenly shift
ed his legs underneath and brought me down onto my back. He pushed the waistband of his pants down a little further so that I could feel his sack just below my entrance.

  “Yes,” I moaned. I wanted to feel his muscled back flexing as he drove deep inside me. I wanted to grip that hard ass of his while he pounded his cock into my body. He gave me both.

  Pistoning his hips at an eager pace, me raising mine to meet him head-on, grind for grind, I began to climax. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to come knowing that we might not get another chance, but my body responded to him at the cellular level. He could’ve simply breathed into my ear and I would’ve orgasmed.

  Our mouths locked and tongues dancing in a sensual, animalistic rhythm, I rocked my pelvis, and he bore down, grinding his base against my needy, throbbing c-spot.

  It was then, of all the blasted moments in the world, that I realized we might have ventured into a world unknown to me, but my body was still a slave to biology. Fuck. Protection.

  “Mack, I’m going to come,” I panted, him riding me hard, kissing me harder.

  “Me too,” he groaned deliciously.

  “I’m not on the pill.”

  “Neither am I.”

  Goddammit. I didn’t want to stop. Not now, but getting pregnant and…I started coming hard. “OhgodMack. Ohgod.” My entire body tensed as I felt a hard, sinful wave of pleasure explode through every nerve ending in my body, blinding my vision with white light. Meanwhile, Mack made short, little jabs with his cock, milking every ounce of pleasure he could from my body.

  Now I get it! Now I get it! I screamed in my head, the orgasm filling every corner of my body with sinful contractions laced with ecstasy. Hot baths, long walks, and fake cheese could never compare to this!

  It took several delicious moments for me to realize it was over, but then Mack thrust hard with the entire weight of his body and craned his neck toward the ceiling. He then quickly pulled out and gripped his cock in his hand, shooting his cum onto my stomach as I watched. Honestly, it was beyond fucking hot to watch him come.

  After a few moments, the hard lust on Mack’s face softened, and he lay down at my side, his chest heaving with exertion. “It gets better every time.”