The Devil Wears Blue Jeans (One Pass Away: A New Season Book 1)

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The Devil Wears Blue Jeans (One Pass Away: A New Season Book 1) Page 14

by Mary J. Williams


  Barefoot, McClain wore a dark blue robe belted at the waist.

  “Couldn’t sleep so I worked out.” He ran his hand through his wet hair. “I just finished showering.”

  Darcy was relieved. Though she approved of washing off all traces of another woman, if his shower had been the post-coital type, she would have slunk back to her cottage and fallen on her bed in a dejected heap.

  “You shouldn’t be out alone. Did something frighten you?”

  “No.” Darcy cleared her throat. “I couldn’t sleep and wondered what you were doing.”

  “So, you ran over to find out? At two in the morning?” McClain shook his head. “Next time try the phone. It’s faster and safer.”

  After the burst of bravado that carried her to his doorstep, Darcy was hit by a wave of uncertainty—with a shy chaser.

  “Would you like some company?” she asked in a rush. “Unless someone’s waiting?”

  “Waiting?” McClain looked confused. “For what?”

  “For you. To return.” Darcy nodded toward the bedroom. “You know. Waiting?”

  McClain’s confused frown was replaced by a slightly uncomfortable grimace.

  “Oh,” he said. “I don’t have a, um, guest.”

  “Would you like one?” Darcy asked, wondering why her tongue suddenly felt too big for her mouth.

  “Excuse me?” He blinked. “What did you say?”

  Darcy couldn’t think of a time when she felt quite so awkward. So unsure of herself. She lifted her chin, her gaze steady.

  “I would like to sleep here. Tonight. With you.”

  A slow smile lit McClain’s face as he finally realized Darcy’s intentions.

  “I’m not sure how much sleep we’ll get. But, okay.”

  McClain took Darcy’s hand and led her toward the bedroom.

  Mirroring his smile, Darcy let out a sigh of relief.

  “Thank goodness. I thought for a minute you might ask me to draw a picture.”

  “Where sex is concerned, I passed the need for diagrams long ago,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and backing her toward the bed. “Just one request. Kind of a deal-breaker.”

  “No room for negotiations?” Darcy asked.

  “None.” McClain’s voice was firm.

  Their progress stopped when the back of Darcy’s legs hit the mattress. Refusing to fall until she knew what he had in mind, she gripped McClain’s arms and held tight.

  “If your terms are too steep, I reserve the right to walk away.”

  “Naturally,” he said with a nod.

  “Fine.” Darcy braced herself. “What’s your demand, Mr. McClain?”

  Leaning close, he whispered, “Say my name.”

  Darcy knew what he wanted but wasn’t willing to give in quite yet.

  “Mr. McClain?” she teased.

  His teeth sank in the curve of her neck. Darcy gasped as her toes curled with pleasure.

  “First name,” he insisted.

  “You are kinky.” Darcy licked her lips, drawing his gaze. “Joshua.”

  “Damn,” he said with a pleased growl. “You have my permission to use my name from now on.”

  “Only when we’re naked,” she said. “Or in the process of getting there.”

  “Or thinking about getting naked?” he asked.

  “We’ll see,” Darcy said, unwilling to commit herself.

  McClain tossed her jacket aside and insinuated his hand under the hem of her shirt. Lightly, his fingers played over the sensitive skin of her lower back. Oh, my, Darcy thought. He knew how to touch her. How to make her temperature rise and lower her melting point.

  If he kept going, she would call him anything he wanted, anytime he liked. Clutching his waist, her fingers wrapped around the tie that held his robe in place.

  “What do we have here?” Darcy asked with a burst of anticipation. She placed one hand on his bare chest and gave a little tug of the belt with the other. “Are you wearing anything underneath?”

  “Only one way to know.” McClain opened his arms as a clear invitation—and a challenge. “Unless you’re afraid to find out.”

  “Did you just dare me?” Darcy made a tsking noise. “I never fall for such an obvious ploy. Before, I planned to undress you. Now, you must ask.”

  “Should I say pretty please? With sugar on it?” McClain asked, a bit of the devil entering his green gaze. He shook his head. “Not my style.”

  “Then I guess we’re at a stalemate.”

  Darcy couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out. Having too much fun to give in now, she couldn’t wait to discover what McClain’s next move would be. He surprised her by falling to his knees.

  “Your shoes are wet.” He tossed one sneaker away followed quickly by the other. “And your feet are cold. Let me warm them up.”

  McClain placed a kiss on the instep of one foot while he rubbed some heat into the other. His lips brushed across her toes, grazing each with teeth. His fingers circled her ankle then slowly moved to her leg. Gently but with intent, he gave her firm push. Darcy landed on the bed, flat on her back.

  “I don’t think you need these.” McClain tugged her pants past her hips. “Unless you plan on leaving in the next few hours?”

  Hours? With no sleeping? Darcy didn’t ask what McClain meant—she could guess quite nicely. If she weren’t completely focused on what his talented hands were up to, she might have said a little prayer of gratitude for his stamina.

  “Black lace.” McClain toyed with the edge of her panties. “Were you thinking of me when you put them on?

  “A man’s ego is a frightening thing,” Darcy said then, as he licked her sensitive inner thigh, bit the inside of her lip to keep from moaning. “I dress only for myself. Underwear included—Joshua.”

  “Lord, woman, you’re driving me crazy.”

  “Why?” Darcy asked with false innocence.

  “The way you say Joshua should be illegal.” McClain made a happy humming sound deep in his throat. “It’s like the hottest erotica, only better.”

  “Name porn?” Darcy said with a laugh. “I could create an entirely new industry simply narrating men’s first names.”

  “You’d make a fortune,” he assured her.

  As they exchanged banter, Darcy decided that words were the best form of foreplay. After all, sex was ninety percent mental. Talking and teasing with McClain left her relaxed and on edge all at the same time.

  “What a beautiful smile.” McClain traced the curve of her lower lip. “Makes me want to sample a taste.”

  “Sounds like an excellent idea.”

  Darcy grabbed McClain’s robe and pulled until he lay next to her. She wrapped one leg around his waist as her fingers curled around his head. She touched her lips to his. Deepening the kiss, she sighed, her breath mingling with his.

  “What’s the verdict,” she asked. “Do you like the way I taste?”

  “Peppermint?” McClain licked his lips. “You recently brushed your teeth.”

  Darcy grinned, showing off a set of strong, white teeth.

  “Be grateful that I practice excellent oral hygiene. Have you ever kissed someone who only brushes on the third Wednesday of the month?” With a shudder, she made a gagging noise.

  “Ugh.” McClain grimaced. “Talk about your crimes against humanity.”

  “The experience left me deeply and profoundly traumatized,” Darcy said as she slid her body onto his until she covered him like a human blanket. “I swore off kissing right then and there.”

  “But you’re so good at it.” McClain pushed her hair back, leaving his hands cupping her face. “Practically expert level.”

  “Practically my fine ass,” Darcy scoffed. “My kisses are A-1. Top-notch. You know the old saying. Anything worth doing is worth doing well.”

  Smiling, McClain pulled her shirt over her head. Her black lace bra quickly joined the shirt on the floor. He
ran his hands across the small of her back, settling at her waist.

  “And how did you become such an expert kisser?” he asked.

  “How else. Practice. Practice. Practice.”

  “I get the idea.” McClain frowned. “Keep the details to yourself if you don’t mind.”

  “You’re missing some great stories,” Darcy warned him. “Epic tales of joy, sorrow, lust, mayhem, attempted murder.”

  “Not interested,” McClain said as he flipped Darcy onto her back. He had her panties down to her knees when he froze. “Did you say attempted murder?”

  Darcy wiggled her underwear past her feet before she answered.

  “I almost killed the guy with the toxic bad breath,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “I brushed before my shower,” he told her, rising to his knees. “Did I do a good job?”

  “Mm.” Darcy smacked her lips. “Minty fresh.”

  Laughing, McClain loosened the belt around his waist. His gaze heated, turning the emerald color a molten green. Darcy’s breath caught in her throat as she realized the time for teasing was over.

  The robe slid from McClain’s shoulders falling to a puddle at his feet. Dazed, dazzled, Darcy gasped. As her blood raced and liquid pooled between her legs, her mouth we dry.

  “Oh, my. You are gorgeous.” Darcy fanned her face. “If I had my phone, I’d take a picture.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” McClain warned when her gaze briefly flitted to where he’d left her jacket. “No photos, Ms. Stratham. The only way you’ll see me naked is one on one.”

  “Kind of inconvenient.” Darcy let out a dramatic sigh. “I’ll just burn your image into my brain. Stay right where you are and give me a minute. Or ten.”

  “Now’s the time to stop talking,” McClain said as he took a condom from the nightstand drawer.

  Darcy watched, fascinated, as he expertly opened the packet and rolled the condom down the length of his erect penis. The man was beautiful, confident, and the least self-conscious person she’d ever met.

  Heart racing, Darcy wondered at her luck. If she hadn’t been determined to stick around and enjoy every second of what was to come, she would have melted into oblivion on the spot.

  Looking him up and down—and up again—Darcy waggled her eyebrows.

  “Now there is a man who means business.”

  Darcy expected McClain’s mouth to lift into one of his patented devilish smiles. She waited for a quick comeback, something smart and clever, and guaranteed to make her laugh. Instead, he simply stared.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as the seconds continued to tick by.

  “You.” McClain’s chest rose and fell as though breathing were a chore. “You are so damn lovely.”

  All at once, a kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight in Darcy’s chest. Her heart was light, yet heavy, with a deep thump, thump, thump. Something about the way McClain looked at her made her system go all wonky. She smiled. Odd how much she liked the feeling.

  “Here.” Darcy raised her arms, beckoning him. “Come to me. Now.”

  This time, McClain was her blanket. Hard steel covered in heated flesh. Darcy couldn’t stop touching him.

  “I’ve pictured you here,” McClain said, kissing her breathless. “Hell, I’ve just about pictured you everywhere.”

  “Everywhere?” Darcy asked. “In your office? The weight room?”

  “I especially enjoyed the sight of you in the jacuzzi, bubbles caressing your skin.” McClain smiled as his hand cupped her breast. “I was turned on and jealous all at once.”

  Darcy tangled her legs with his, shifting her body, sighing with pleasure. The weight of him settled in a perfect fit between her thighs.

  “Enjoy the fantasy,” she told him. “Work sex will never happen.”

  “I know.” McClain shrugged. “But my daydreams are spectacularly detailed. And easily adaptable.”

  “Adaptable?” Darcy was intrigued.

  “Want me to tell you?” he asked, slipping his hand between her legs. “Or show you?”

  Just once, Darcy allowed herself the luxury of greed.

  “Both,” she told him, nipping his shoulder, leaving her mark.

  “Adult show and tell.” McClain nodded. “Thirty and over only?”

  “Thirty-six is more accurate,” Darcy said with a chuckle. “Until now, I had neither the time nor inclination for bedroom tomfoolery. I was more of an in and out kind of woman.”

  McClain kissed her forehead, her nose, her chin. He hovered over her mouth, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers.

  “Let me be your guide, Ms. Stratham. You’re about to enter a whole new world. Ready for the ride of your life?”

  Darcy wondered how one man could be so sure of himself. McClain believed he could deliver on what he promised. He didn’t waver or let doubt creep into his mind for a second.

  “Don’t oversell, Joshua.”

  Her use of his name made the fire in his eyes rise higher—as she knew it would.

  “I’ll make you a deal. If you aren’t satisfied, I’ll keep my mouth shut during the first round of the upcoming draft. Whichever college player you chose, I’ll sign off. No argument, no questions asked.”

  “Today must be my lucky day,” Darcy said.

  A smile formed on McClain’s lips. Slow, sexy, knowing, and filled with the devil.

  “Where pleasing your partner is concerned, luck has nothing to do with it.”

  “Then I accept your challenge.” Darcy threw her arms over her head. “I’m ready. Do your best. Let the ride begin.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲

  MAC CLOSED HIS eyes—just for a second. The view of Darcy, in his bed, lying under his sheets, her face turned toward him with a Cheshire Cat sized smile on her face was too beautiful for him to turn away. He didn’t want to miss a second.

  But he was tired. Hours of mind-blowing sex will take its toll on even the most vigorous of men. He needed some downtime. Just a second or two.

  “You broke me,” Darcy said with a sigh.

  Mac’s eyes popped open.

  “You’re hurt?” He did a quick scan of her body. “Where? How? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Down boy.” Darcy laughed and swatted away Mac’s hand when he tried to lift the sheet for a better look. “I spoke metaphorically.”

  “Ah.” Mac nodded, feeling a smug satisfaction. “I’m so good, so amazing, so skilled. After me, no other man will do.”

  “Right.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “You can read me like a book.”

  “I won the bet.”

  “Did we make a bet?” She frowned.

  Mac felt too good; too damn proud of himself. He’d unlocked the sexual tiger in self-contained Darcy Stratham and nothing she could say or do would change the fact. She came unbound in his arms. And he would live with the memory until his last breath and beyond.

  “Wait.” Mac watched as Darcy slipped from his bed and began to dress. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” she said, tucking her bra and panties into the pocket of her jacket. “I still have time to catch an hour or two shut-eye.”

  “Stay here.”

  The plea left Mac’s mouth before he could stop it. He never asked a woman to stay. Never. Yet, with Darcy, he meant every word.

  “No,” Darcy said as she laced up her sneaker. “Thank you. This was nice.”

  Nice! Nice? Was she serious? Mac stared hard at Darcy’s face. Apparently, she was.

  “Impossible,” he muttered.

  “Excuse me?” Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Did you say something or was it one of your natural, inarticulate grumbles?”

  “So much for the afterglow.” Mac threw back the covers. “Give me a second to pull on some clothes and I’ll walk you back.”

  “Don’t bother,” Darcy said, waving him off. “I’ll be fine.”

  Mac wasn�
�t in the mood to quibble—one of Darcy’s favorite pastimes. He pinned her with a cool gaze as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

  “Move and you’re toast.”

  “Toast? Please,” Darcy scoffed.

  “Keep pushing and I’ll burn you to a crisp.”

  Darcy crossed her arms and sneered, but she was wise enough not to move. He zipped up an old gray hoodie and walked toward the door. He jerked his head for her to follow.

  “Just because my bodyguard isn’t around doesn’t mean you should feel the need to step in,” Darcy said as they walked toward the gate that separated the two properties. “I’m used to taking care of myself.”

  “What kind of men do you date?” Mac demanded of her. “Bodyguard or no bodyguard, I would walk you home. It’s called common courtesy. Ever heard the term? You know, the thing that decent people do for each other?”

  “Why are you so pissy?” Darcy asked as Mac punched in the code to the gate. “We had a nice time. End of story.”

  Nice. Why did she keep using that word? Mac ground his teeth in frustration.

  “Question.”

  “Shoot,” Darcy said as they started up the steps to the back deck.

  Don’t tempt me, Mac thought. He cleared his throat.

  “If tonight was merely nice, how do you describe an encounter where you don’t orgasm six times?”

  “Every other sexual experience I’ve ever had.” Darcy winked and let herself into the cottage.

  Instantly, Mac felt better. Energized, he followed her before she could shut the door in his face.

  “I should stay,” he said, kicking off his shoes.

  “Why?” Darcy looked wary. “You don’t exactly have a long trip home.”

  “You said tonight was a one-shot deal.” He hung his jacket by the door. “I’d like to say we slept together.”

  “Who do plan to tell?” Darcy asked.

  “Myself.” He grinned. “Over, and over again.

  Shaking her head, Darcy laughed. Mac’s heart felt lighter at the sound.

  “Your perfect memory didn’t do you any favors,” she said. “I told you I wanted to spend the night. I didn’t say anything about one night only.”

  Mac flashed back to their earlier conversation. He ran the words through his head, analyzed each one, and realized Darcy was right. She’d said one thing, he heard another. His smile widened.

 

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