by Macy Beckett
He teased her until the time came for Allie to remove her bra. Then his words died as he watched her slide each strap down the length of her shoulders with deliberate care. She held his gaze while unfastening the back, then flashed an impish grin and shook her hair in front to conceal both breasts when she pulled off her bra and let it fall onto the next chair.
Marc glared at her. “That’s evil, right there. Pure evil.”
“Quit whining and give me your queens,” she said on her next turn, right before remembering she’d already asked for that card.
Marc’s glare transformed into a triumphant glow that enlivened his entire face. He sat back in his seat and tossed his cards onto the table, mouthing the words Go fish.
Allie closed her eyes, mentally kicking herself for being so careless. This was it—the game was over. He’d won.
If only she hadn’t been so distracted by Marc in his underwear . . .
“Want some help?” Marc asked, his voice thick with anticipation. “I’m an expert panty remover with years of dedicated experience. I can have them around your ankles, lickety-split.”
Allie took a deep breath and stood from her seat. After taking a moment to fortify herself, she let her lids drift open. But when she glimpsed Marc again, something in him had shifted.
He wasn’t bragging now, instead watching her with a wolfish hunger that tightened her stomach and sent it dipping south. Clearly this was no childish game to him—not anymore. He wanted her, and her body responded to him at once, flushing with warmth despite the fact that she was practically naked in an air-conditioned room.
“Why don’t you come on over here,” he murmured, dark and husky, “and let me do the rest?”
Allie didn’t have to tell her feet to take a step forward. They moved toward Marc of their own volition and didn’t stop until she reached his chair. For a pregnant beat, he used his eyes to take her in, scanning her legs while holding his breath in a charged anticipation she felt as tangibly as static electricity.
He let out a lungful of air and brought both palms to the outside swell of her hips, then simply held her like a man savoring a moment he’d waited a lifetime to experience. Allie knew that wasn’t the case—Marc could have any woman he wanted—but it made her feel special all the same.
He used his work-roughened hands to skim the length of her thighs, all the way down to her knees and back up again until he reached her backside. There, he tucked his fingers beneath the satin fabric of her panties and took two handfuls of flesh, groaning appreciatively at the weight of her in his palms.
“Goddamn, Allie,” he swore and moved in to kiss her navel. “You’re a walking wet dream.”
While he nuzzled and tickled her with the fine whiskers peppering his jaw, she tangled her fingers in his chestnut waves and held him nearer to her core, pulling him in as close as they could get. They stayed like that for a while, touching and stroking, savoring the quiet intimacy until Marc hooked his thumbs around her panties and tugged them down over her hips and to the floor. She stepped free and kicked them aside, standing before him completely nude for the first time.
Marc’s gaze didn’t linger. In the span of two heartbeats, he placed a gentle kiss between her thighs. Allie felt a ghost of warm breath, and the next thing she knew, Marc had run his tongue fully up the length of her femininity.
She wasn’t prepared for the shock of pleasure that tore through her. Breath catching at the top of her lungs, she clutched the back of his chair for support. He only gave her a moment to recover before he did it again—flattening his tongue in a lazy assault that left her knees weak. Next he used the tip to flick and tease, sending her pulse rushing between her legs.
“Marc,” she began, not sure whether to ask him to stop or keep going. It felt exquisite, but she wanted more from him. She wanted all of him.
When she remained silent for too long, he made the decision for her by positioning her left heel atop his knee and deepening his erotic kiss. Between nips and licks, he groaned decadently and made torrid promises of what he’d do next. Allie could hardly stand the intensity. Her limbs grew weak and heavy, her eyelids sinking as the pressure built inside her.
He latched onto her most sensitive spot and drew it into his mouth with gentle suction, eliciting a loud moan from her in response. Allie tipped her head forward and tried to keep standing upright, but with each wet tug, she sank farther into his lap. Finally, Marc conceded the battle and let her drop down to straddle his thighs.
He pulled her against his bare chest and slid his mouth against hers in a kiss that tasted of sweet cola and her own salty arousal. She twined both arms around his neck and explored his mouth while her hips sought friction against the massive erection straining the front of his Jockeys. Their mingled breaths grew choppy until Marc slowed things down, pulling back to gaze at her, his lips wet and swollen, eyes dark with lust.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered while brushing her long curls behind both shoulders to expose her breasts. Tenderly, he took one in each hand and admired them, skimmed his thumbs across her nipples while repeating, “So beautiful.”
Allie bit her lip to contain a moan. She had a feeling where they were headed, but she needed to ask anyway. “Are we really going to do this?”
Marc took her by the hips and rocked against her. “Jesus, I hope so. I might die if we don’t.”
Smiling, Allie skimmed her palms over his strong shoulders, down the firm curves of his biceps, and across his smooth, hard chest, wishing she had another pair of hands to feel all of him. She’d fantasized about this moment for so long, but making love with Marc wasn’t enough for her now. She refused to be just another notch on his bedpost.
She deserved more.
“I want to be the only one, Marc,” she said, using her index finger to trace the birthmark over his heart. “Or we need to stop right now, before we go any farther.”
He froze. Judging by the terror etched into his face, you’d think she’d demanded a two-carat solitaire and a minivan.
“Calm down, baby.” Allie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I mean the only one sharing your bed. If you’re sleeping with me, you’re not sleeping with anyone else.” When his shoulders unclenched in relief, she added, “I don’t like to share. Do you?” She tossed back her hair and arched against him. “Do you want me doing this with another man?”
“No.” Possessively, he tightened his grip on her hips. “No sharing.”
She stifled a grin. “So we’re clear?”
He moved in to kiss the side of her throat, stopping just below her ear, where he whispered, “Crystal clear. You’re the only one I want, Allie.” Then he took two handfuls of her backside and pulled her against his steely length as if to show exactly how much he wanted her. Which seemed like a whole lot.
“Good,” she managed. “Then it’s sett—”
She gasped when he latched onto her nipple and tugged it deep into his mouth. As soon as she gulped a breath, he turned to the other nipple and caught it gingerly between his teeth, barely grazing her until he’d teased it to a tight point.
Allie couldn’t wait any longer. She reached into his Jockeys and freed him, taking a moment to stroke his long, thick shaft from top to bottom, then used her thumb to spread a bead of arousal over his velvety tip. Eagerly, she poised herself above his erection. She was on the Pill, they were both clean, and she wanted him inside her five minutes ago. She sank an inch onto him, her eyelids fluttering shut with fulfillment, but just as she opened her thighs to take him deeper, he halted her movements.
“Stop,” he said, contradicting his words with an expression that pleaded for more. “Let me grab my wallet so I can suit up.”
“We don’t need a condom,” she told him. “I’m on the—”
“I use one every time, sugar. It’s not worth the risk.”
He reached down to snag
his pants, and in less than sixty seconds he had the condom rolled on and firmly in place. Allie reminded herself this was the responsible thing to do, but she couldn’t help it—she wanted to feel the warm friction of his naked skin inside her.
But she didn’t pout for long.
Marc took her by the hips and seated her atop his rounded head, then dipped into her from below, working inside by gradual degrees and stealing every coherent thought from her mind. By the time he was buried to the hilt, she could barely recall her own name.
He held her still for a while and fed her gentle kisses while she stretched to accommodate his considerable girth. Patience waning, Allie grasped Marc’s shoulders and began a slow rock against his base. When she felt ready, she dug her toes into the carpet and lifted halfway up the length of his shaft before sinking down again.
Foreheads tipped together, they shared a blissful groan, each delirious with rapture. Allie kept going, setting an easy rhythm that Marc occasionally slowed by wrapping his arms behind her and crushing her to his chest. She knew what he was doing—delaying her climax and prolonging the pleasure. But though she wanted to make it last, the tension coiling low in her belly warned she couldn’t hold off much longer.
Marc filled her ears with half-incoherent whispers of how good she felt, how gorgeous she was. He sat back in his chair to admire her while alternately kneading her breasts and running his palms along her thighs. Allie decided to give him a true eyeful. She leaned back and rested both elbows on the table, opening her legs wide to display their joined bodies while she rode his hips.
At the sight, Marc’s lips parted and his face glazed over.
“Mercy,” he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
Spurred by a new passion, he clutched his chair base, gaining purchase to thrust hard into her. The table shook with each pump, ice cubes rattling inside Marc’s neglected glass of Coke. For a split second Allie worried they might topple it over, but then he used a thumb to massage circles into her swollen bud, and her mind shut to every sensation beyond the pure delight building between her legs. Like an electric current, it traveled down both thighs and back up again.
She extended her arms and gripped the table ledge while rolling her hips to meet each powerful thrust. Her lips parted, breath coming in shallow gasps. The room was thick with the noises of skin slapping skin, the frenzied squeak of the table joints, and the hysterical moans rising from her throat.
Her control was about to snap—she couldn’t last another second.
Allie tipped back her head as her inner muscles shuddered against Marc in an orgasm so fierce she had to clench her jaw to contain a scream. He never relented, slamming harder between her thighs until Allie sobbed a curse without a care for who might overhear. The waves of ecstasy took her again and again for what felt like days. When they finally stilled, she lay boneless in his lap, more satisfied than she’d ever been in her life.
“Again,” he commanded, wrapping her legs around his hips and standing from the chair. He lifted her pliant body and set her on the table, where she sprawled on her back, still weak and trembling. “I want to feel you come again.”
Allie didn’t think she could do it. She tried to tell him so, but then he ground against her in a circle and sparked to life every nerve ending below the waist.
“Yes,” she whispered as his arm hooked around her knee and lifted it over his shoulder. The position opened her to take him even deeper, something she hadn’t thought possible. “Yes,” she repeated, eyes rolling back at the delicious invasion. He filled her so completely, bumping her cervix in a shock of pain that somehow heightened the pleasure.
He slowly rotated his hips and plunged into her hard enough to send his glass of Coke and half their playing cards sailing off the table. Allie held tight to the lacquered wood and rocked with him. Marc chanted her name like a prayer and branded her with his gaze. When the next wave of sweet agony hit, he came with her, bucking against her flesh with a long, low groan. From within, Allie felt him pulse in a staccato of release. He held there for several blissful moments until they both collapsed into a heap of sweaty tangled limbs.
“God bless,” she whispered.
That was so much better than a brown sugar pecan scone.
Allie was in heaven. She wanted to bear Marc’s weight forever. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to lie beneath him—like this was where she belonged. But he rested atop her only long enough to catch his breath before gently pulling out and tucking himself back into his Jockeys, condom intact.
She bristled at his abrupt withdrawal.
Seconds ago, he’d turned her world on its axis, and now he was shoving both legs into his pants while scanning the carpet to find the rest of his clothes. He picked his way through the pile, grinning to himself when he lifted her panties off the floor.
“Hurry up and get dressed,” he said, tucking her underwear into his pocket.
Allie’s heart turned cold while her sister’s words rang inside her head, Did he hit it and quit it? Is that what was happening here? She hated to believe Marc would do that to her, but it was starting to look that way.
Propping on one elbow, Allie peeled a few playing cards off her back while watching him tug on his T-shirt. When he came across the spilled cola, he scooped the ice cubes into the glass and replaced it on the table.
“What?” he asked, catching her staring at him.
Allie struggled to force the words though her throat, which was growing thick with welling tears. If he was about to ditch her, she’d have to get off at the next port and ask Devyn to pick her up. She couldn’t stay aboard the Belle and pretend none of this had happened.
On frail limbs, she pushed to her feet. Marc peeled the jack of clubs off her butt, then pocketed that along with her panties—souvenirs of his conquest.
“Here, put this on.” While handing over her skirt, he paused to study her expression and asked, “What’s the matter?”
“You tell me,” Allie said, bending down to snatch her bra off a nearby chair. She shoved her arms through the straps and latched the trio of hooks at the back. “We just made love, and now you’re gearing up for the fifty-yard dash.”
Marc’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. Allie stepped into her skirt, and by the time she secured the button, understanding dawned on his face. “Oh,” he said, lips twitching in a grin. “Is that what you think—that I’m fixin’ to make a clean getaway?”
She provided her answer in the form of a glare.
“Come here.” When she stayed rooted to the floor, Marc sauntered over to her and snaked both arms around her waist. He nuzzled her ear through thick curls and murmured, “You didn’t actually think we were finished, did you?”
Allie’s resolve was weak. All it took was the heat of his breath to unravel her.
She tipped aside her head to welcome the brush of his lips on her neck. He kissed his way down to her bare shoulder and spoke against her bra strap. “The cleaning crew will be here soon. Get dressed so I can take you back to your room and strip you naked again. I’m going to do filthy things to you, Allie. And I won’t stop till the sun comes up.”
Allie’s breath hitched. Hopeful once again, she pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Are you sure? Don’t you need a couple hours to . . . recuperate?”
He gave her that signature smile—the one that deepened the cleft in his chin and sent her heart pinging against her rib cage. There was a promise in his gaze, of more than just a few moments of sin.
“Sugar,” he said, “we’re just getting started.”
Chapter 11
The next morning, Marc awoke to the soft snuffle of feminine snoring, an unexpectedly adorable sound that parted his lips in a sleepy smile. Allie’s pretty little head rested on his chest, a beam of low sunlight from the window dancing over her raven curls
, picking up bluish hues he’d never noticed before. There was a lot about this woman he hadn’t noticed before last night, but now he knew every inch of her curves by heart. He’d taken great care to explore her—inside and out—and he’d loved every minute of it.
Lord, she’d blown his mind—catapulted him to a whole new level of heart-quaking, lung-bursting volcanic climax. Marc had been with a lot of women over the years, but Allie made him forget every last one. No joke. He couldn’t recall a single name but hers. Sex with Allie was so damn good, it didn’t seem natural.
Maybe because it’s not, warned a distant voice that sounded an awful lot like his superstitious pawpaw. If you lie down with the devil, you’re gonna get burned, son.
Marc pushed those bullshit thoughts right out of his head.
The girl in his arms was more angel than devil, the perfect mixture of tenderhearted sweetness and sultry siren. But that assurance didn’t stop him from peeking beneath Allie’s bedsheet to make sure his manhood was still intact after a night of debauchery with a Mauvais woman. Thankfully, it was—and very happy to see Allie stirring beside him.
“Stand down, soldier,” Marc whispered. “Let’s give her a break.”
Besides, if the sun was up, that meant he was overdue in the pilothouse and Allie was late for her breakfast shift. But damned if the general would listen to reason. His helmet stood at full attention, refusing to surrender until he’d divided and conquered the lean tanned thighs curled around Marc’s hip.
With a sigh, he checked the clock on her nightstand. They were already late. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.
Burying his nose in Allie’s scented curls, Marc murmured a husky “Good morning,” while letting his hands travel down her back to her naked ass, where he grabbed two firm, delectable handfuls of flesh. He loved the way she filled his palms. She had the kind of butt that made him want to thank her mama—her daddy, too, rest their souls.
