Well, now she felt like she was about to self-combust. Her face had to be as red as her hair. “I’m sorry. Is that rude?”
“You’re not sure?”
“I... I’m only curious.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “When I imagine you being with a man, it’s...” So, so hot.
“Stimulating?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. At least it doesn’t turn you off.”
“Not at all.” If anything, it turned her on.
“So, you’ve imagined me being with men?”
“Yes.”
“More than once?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Did you...”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “That’s promising.”
“Why?”
He hesitated then, after a moment, shook his head. “It proves that you are open-minded.”
No, that was not what it was. For someone who insisted on honesty, he wasn’t telling her his actual thought. She’d let that go for now.
“Does watching two men turn you on?”
“The truth?”
“That’s all I want from you,” he insisted.
“Then I expect the same from you.”
Damon tilted his head, his smile gone. “You got it.”
“To answer your question, yes, it does.”
His brown eyes flared as he studied her. “Why are we still standing in my kitchen?”
“Maybe because I don’t know where your bedroom is? Otherwise, I would be heading in that direction.”
“Do you want a tour?”
Just of your body. “After?”
“Head into the living room while I put our dinners in the fridge and make us a drink. Wine? Cocktail?”
Mac peered down the hallway toward the living room. “Whatever you’re having is fine with me.” She headed toward the front of the house.
The living room wasn’t formal, instead casual with a comfortable looking leather sofa and a large screen TV over a brick fireplace, which appeared to be fueled by natural gas.
The room was neat and clean. Two remotes were perfectly lined up on a side table. The coffee table had a pile of magazines, also neatly stacked. She moved closer and glanced through them. They consisted of pilot and plane themed magazines like Flying and Aviation. She didn’t know anyone got physical magazines delivered anymore. She only subscribed to one publication and it was delivered digitally. Was he old fashioned?
A built-in shelf along one wall held various books, both fiction and non-fiction. Along with a couple of small model planes and some framed photos. She ran her finger over the spines of the books, then glanced at each picture, curious about his family. There was an older photo with what could be Damon standing between two adults, possibly his parents, but they seemed older. Quite possibly, his grandparents. She wondered if his parents were still alive. She moved to the next shelf and froze.
She snagged one of the frames and studied it.
Damon, looking younger, had his head thrown back, like he did when he laughed, his arm around a man who was also smiling at the camera. The man had his arm around Damon’s waist, and they stood with their sides pressed together. Best friends? Maybe.
More? Most likely.
She ran her finger on the glass over the other man’s face. He had brown hair and looked familiar.
She wracked her brain, speculating how she might know him. She saw him somewhere recently.
Then it hit her. A week ago, when Mac met Damon at the lounge. He’d been talking to this same man at the table when she walked in. Then he wanted them to go elsewhere, but the man never left the building. Nor did Damon introduce him. He’d moved to the bar instead once Damon had walked away from him. Mac had thought it odd that Damon was a bit perturbed after that encounter. And the other man appeared almost sad or frustrated as he watched them.
She glanced closer. Yes, she was pretty sure it was the same man. However, the one at the lounge sported a very short beard, not enough to disguise his face.
What little she’d seen of the exchange between the two of them had made her curious, but Damon didn’t touch on it all evening. And it wasn’t her business.
But now she was standing in his living room, ready to have sex with the man, she needed the truth.
Mac not only heard him walking up behind her but felt his presence. It was commanding. And the cologne he wore, or whatever it was, had a hint of spice to it. He smelled delicious.
She put the photo back on the shelf and turned toward him to see him carrying two glasses of what looked like Seven and Sevens.
He tilted his head toward the stairway that she could see was off the living room near the front door. “I’ll carry yours up.”
Her eyes flicked back to the picture. “Are you in a relationship?”
Because if he was, she wasn’t going upstairs. She was taking her keys, getting in her VW and going home. She did not want to get stuck in the middle of some domestic problem. Or cause one.
Damon’s eyes slid to the photo she was pointing at. “Was.”
Past tense. But still... “You keep photos of him? Normally people rid themselves of bad memories.”
“They weren’t bad. Well, they weren’t until they were.”
“But you’re not together?” She needed to be sure because when he glanced at the photo, she noticed him fighting a reaction to it.
“No.”
“You can’t let go?”
“I’ve let go,” he said flatly.
That didn’t sound convincing. “Because you wanted to? Or because you had no choice in the matter?”
Damon’s chest expanded as he inhaled a long, slow breath. His fingers tightened on the drink glasses.
Before he could answer, she continued, “He was at the bar last week. You were talking to him.”
Something flickered behind Damon’s dark eyes. Pain? Sadness? Annoyance at her line of questioning? She wasn’t sure. “He was talking to me. I was waiting for you.”
She absorbed that for a second. “You want nothing to do with him?”
“No. MacKenzie, I really don’t want to talk about him right now. I want to spend time with you. I’ll remove the picture from my house later if it bothers you. But right now, I want us to go upstairs and get to know each other better. Do you still want to do that? Or are you going to let a past relationship of mine ruin our plans?”
Mac’s mouth opened. “Is it in the past if you were talking to him at the bar? I don’t want to get in the middle of something—”
“We ran into each other by accident.”
Now he was lying. “I thought you valued honesty.”
Damon closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them, he lifted a glass to his lips, taking a long sip. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re not getting in the middle of anything. It’s been over for years. But the truth is, he came searching for me. I’m not sure how he found me, but he did.”
Why wouldn’t his ex know how to find him? Damon owned a house and had a steady job. Had his former lover been living under a rock? “He didn’t want it to end.”
“He was the one who ended it.” He blew out a breath. “MacKenzie...”
“Mac.”
“I like your name the way it was given to you. Now, I wanted the evening to be about us. Not my ex.”
“Are you impatient?”
“Yes, how can I not be? I have a gorgeous woman standing in my living room. One who saw me naked and I haven’t had the pleasure of the same. One who I want nothing more than to touch every inch of her with my lips to see if she tastes as delicious as she smells.” He lifted one elbow toward the staircase, careful not to spill the drinks. “Can we go upstairs?”
She could see how talking about a painful past relationship would put a damper on their libido. She wouldn’t want to discuss any of her old boyfriends when she had a man standing in front of her who was ready to worship every part of her body.
That would be foolish. So, he was right. They needed to head upstairs and get to know each other better. Talking could wait.
Having Damon’s mouth on her could not.
Chapter 6
Damon was relieved when MacKenzie had finally moved toward the stairs. Now, as she stood in the middle of his master bedroom, he offered her one of the drinks.
She accepted it with a small smile and took a sip. Her cute freckled nose wrinkled. “Wow. Strong.”
“Not really. If you’re not used to whiskey, it might seem as if it is.”
“I’m not. I admit I’m a lightweight. And I do have to drive later.”
“I hope you don’t.” Damon took a sip of his own drink as he watched her eyebrows rise.
“You want me to spend the night?”
“Do you work on Saturdays?” His Saturday was free since he didn’t have another flight scheduled until Sunday night and he really wanted to spend the night and morning with her.
“No.”
“Then yes, I’d like you to spend the night.” He moved over to the nightstand and put his drink down on a coaster.
She began coughing as if the drink went down the wrong pipe. “We haven’t even... How do you know you’d... we...”
Damon went to her and took the drink from her fingers, setting it down next to his. Returning, he cupped her cheeks with both hands and lifted her face. “MacKenzie, this isn’t just about sex. While it’s a part of it since I’m very attracted to you, I’d love to get to know you better. If you thought this was just some... hookup... you’re wrong. Our conversations during the past week kept me entertained and wanting more. You have a sense of humor I adore. You’re highly intelligent. You’re hard-working. And you’re down to earth.”
“You could tell all of that simply from our phone calls and texts?”
He smiled at her obvious amazement. “I could. Just as I would hope you got a good sense of who I am from them, as well.” He hesitated, then asked, “Did you?”
She pursed her lips in thought. Her expression was adorable, and he wanted to kiss her right there and then, but he needed to hear her answer first.
“I enjoyed talking to you. I definitely enjoyed our conversation last night.”
“Ah, earlier you said it wasn’t a conversation.”
“Yes, well... Anyway, you’re well-spoken, you’re gorgeous, and your package isn’t half bad.”
Damon pinned his lips together to stop from bursting out laughing. He nodded as he struggled to keep a straight face. “I see.”
She lifted a finger. “And, I should add, you look absolutely smokin’ in your uniform. But the truth is—and I know you like the truth—I can’t wait to see you wearing nothing at all.”
He nodded solemnly, still fighting his smile. “Thank you for the compliments.”
“You’re welcome. So, can we get to it?”
His lips twitched. “Where would you like to start?”
“With you naked,” she jerked her chin toward his bed, “in that bed.”
“That’s it?”
“Oh no. That’s just the beginning.”
He liked this “go-getter” attitude she had. “I forgot to add something to my observations.”
“What?”
“Sass. You have it in spades.” When she opened her mouth, he smothered her response with a kiss. Whatever she’d been trying to say became a groan that rose from her throat instead.
His cock was so hard, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait too long before sinking deep into her wet heat. While he wanted to explore every bit of her first, he might have to spread that over time. This past week had been difficult for him. The waiting. And the hoping MacKenzie wouldn’t back out on their meeting tonight. Especially after the phone sex last night.
She hadn’t.
Every night they talked or every moment between flights when they texted, he had thought about her naked in his bed, squirming under him, raking her nails over his skin, down his back. Tipping her head back and crying out when she came.
Since it was now becoming reality, he wanted to make sure he didn’t mess that up.
Trevor had wanted things Damon couldn’t give him. In the end, Damon figured the man left because he was unsatisfied. Unfortunately, they never even discussed it, because Trevor left without a word and Damon never heard from him again. Not one fucking word.
Until the other night.
It took a while after their encounter for Damon to give MacKenzie his full attention. His mind had been spinning and he was disappointed in himself for letting Trevor still affect him after everything that happened.
It shouldn’t. He shouldn’t feel a thing for a man who abandoned him, who discarded their relationship without a thought, without a fight. If Trevor loved him as much as Damon loved Trevor, he would have stayed and tried to work it out.
He really liked MacKenzie and he’d been truthful when he said this wasn’t a hookup. He wanted her in his bed, but not just for one night. If the chemistry he felt between them was true, then he wanted it to be for longer.
He was at the age now where he was ready to settle down again. Except he was a little gun shy since he’d been ready to settle down with Trevor years ago. He didn’t want to be on the Boston Singles app looking for Mr. or Ms. Right. He wanted to come home from a long day of flying and be greeted by someone who loved him. He didn’t want to worry that he’d come home to find some of the closets emptied.
He needed to get out of his own head and forget all of that. Right now, he had MacKenzie in his arms, his lips on hers and she tasted fucking great.
Her fingers were tangled in his shirt, while her other hand was at his waist. He broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together to catch his breath. “Last chance to take your car keys and leave. Because at this point, I plan on you being in my bed naked and writhing. And by the end of the night, you won’t have the energy to leave.”
“Is that a promise?” she whispered, her fingers flexing at his waist.
“I can promise I’ll do my best to make it so.”
“I love the way you kiss,” she said on a breath and then wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him back to her lips.
He groaned this time as she became the aggressor, taking his mouth, slipping her tongue inside and touching his. The kiss was not soft or romantic, but almost desperate.
She wanted him.
Good. He wanted her, too.
His hands found her ribcage and slid up until he cupped her breasts over her blouse. He brushed the pads of both thumbs over the hard nubs of her nipples through the silky fabric.
He was impatient to divest her of that blouse and of the bra she wore because he wanted to feel her warm, soft skin against his palms. He wanted to test the weight of her breasts, taste the peaked tips.
When she began to free the buttons of his shirt, he did the same with hers. They broke the kiss only long enough for him to push her blouse off her shoulders and to shrug out of his own. Tugging at his undershirt, she freed it from his waistband as he reached around to unclip her bra. Once he was bare-chested, he stepped back only far enough to let her bra fall to their feet.
They stood quietly, their breathing the only noise in the room, as they studied each other. Her blue eyes, darker than normal, roamed over his chest like a caress. He studied the way her small but pert breasts fell with the nipples erect, begging for his touch.
“Pants off,” he ordered softly. “Leave the panties.”
“You assume I’m wearing some.”
One side of his mouth curled up as he reached for his belt buckle, unfastening it. Her eyes followed his movements as he, with painstaking slowness, slipped the belt from the loops. The whisper of leather against fabric shot a shock of lightning down his own spine and into his cock, which was throbbing with anticipation.
“You’ve never been spanked with a belt.” He wasn’t asking because he knew she hadn’t by their earlier conversation. One or m
ore of the men she’d been with in the past only spanked her in a typical vanilla way.
“I don’t want to be spanked with a belt,” she said, sounding like she was in a trance, the movement in her throat as she swallowed visible. A flush ran up her chest, her slender neck and into her cheeks.
“The thought excites you.”
“No.”
He arched a brow. “Honesty, remember?”
“Yes... I don’t know. I’m afraid of the pain.”
“But you’d like to experience the bite of the leather from a skilled hand?”
She bit her bottom lip and her eyelids lowered slightly. “Yes. Possibly.”
He nodded and reluctantly put the belt on a nearby chair. He toed off his dress shoes and peeled off his socks. When he turned, with his hands at the zipper to his pants, he paused. “Would you like to relieve me of my trousers?”
She was gripping her bottom lip between her teeth again, and he wanted to be doing it instead of her. She stepped forward, her gaze locked onto his hands at his waist.
“Yes. May I?”
A thrill spiraled through him at her question. “You may. But I have one condition.”
Her eyes lifted to his. “What?”
“You’re naked when you do so.” Her breasts were beautiful, but he wanted to see everything. Especially when she bent over to assist him with his pants. He wanted to see the line of her spine, the curves of her ass, the arch of her foot. Everything.
Her coloring, both her ivory skin, her hair, her smattering of freckles made him think she’d fit perfectly in a Renaissance painting.
After pulling off her shoes, she unfastened her pants and they dropped to her feet. When she reached for her panties, he stopped her. “No. Remember, I said leave the panties.”
“But you also want me naked.”
He moved until they were close enough so their body heat touched. “Yes, but I want to remove them.”
Her slender fingers trailed down his cheek and over his lips.
He kissed the tip of one, then moved to stand behind her. “Hold your hair up.”
Without hesitation, she did. As the back of her neck was revealed, he studied the delicate line. Putting his lips to the top of her spine, he pressed himself against her, reaching around and sweeping the fingers of both hands over her collarbones, over her arms, relishing how smooth and perfect her skin was.
A Daring Journey: The Dare Menage Series, Book 6 Page 7
