Mack broke off and headed toward the kitchen. “May I get you anything?” He sounded like the heat of the day had sapped all his energy and left him a withered husk. It was pitiful, yet he was still going out of his way to take care of her. The bad thing was, her thoughts for showing him her gratitude all involved both of them and none of their current attire. She was hopeless.
She shook her head at his offer and proceeded to the stairs. “Nah, but thank you. I’m gonna hit the showers. I am filthy.” At least, her mind was, and her body was certainly following suit.
He nodded and continued down the hall looking like the weight of the entire universe rested on his shoulders.
Her mind moving like a washing machine on the spin cycle, she slumped down on the edge of her bed and reached for her tablet. As much as she missed her phone, it was comforting to have her music collection with her. An icon caught her eye as she cued up her ‘Summer Sunshine’ playlist, full of nothing but happy music to ease her mind. Her email. It felt like it’d been forever since she’d spoken to Trista, though she knew it had only been a couple days.
Any time she was upset or anxious, or hell, even happy and elated, she had her friend by her side, and they shared that kind of thing. It felt so strange to be lost in these thoughts about Mack and not have her touchstone in her life to help order her thoughts. The wi-fi for the house was on and unsecured, but not surprising given the fact that Mack’s family owned the damn mountain. And it wouldn’t take but a second to log into her ultra-secret account she and T had set up after her last personal account got hacked by an overzealous fan.
Erring on the side of asking forgiveness rather than permission, she fired off a quick email to her friend. A shot in the dark to tether her scattered mind and heart. She heard the door shut in the hallway and knew Mack had returned from wherever he’d gone to collect himself, and she sighed. The tension between them was wearisome under ideal circumstances, but add in the possibility that someone was coming to kill her, and their combined family issues, and she was exhausted and couldn’t imagine the hell Mack was going through.
As much as she longed to relieve him of at least a little bit of his burden, she longed for a shower more. Her trail of clothing as she made her way to the chrome and tile haven of the bathroom was decidedly funky, but she’d deal with it when she wasn’t covered in an amalgam of sweat, sunscreen and the equestrian equivalent of road grime.
Cassie knew they’d be waiting for her just outside the shower curtain, but for the moment, she was happy to be alone with nothing more complicated than her shampoo and conditioner. The hot water soothed her to the bone, and all of her anxieties unfurled and wound their way down the drain with the filth.
Closing her eyes, she soaped up her hands, letting them skim over her body. She couldn’t help thinking about Mack, just in the next room. The feel of his strong arms around her, supple lips on hers, washed over her as she rinsed the suds from her. For a man who obviously kept his emotions under strict lock and key, he told her so much in the gentle way he touched her.
She was emotional by nature, a trait that had burned her more than once, but somehow, in the time she’d spent with Mackenzie, she didn’t think that would be the problem. Her fear with him was based in the knowledge that their time together was only temporary and they both had real lives to return to, without each other. It was a variation on a theme for her, abandonment issues rearing their ugly heads, and yet somehow that didn’t stop her from wondering what would’ve happened if they hadn’t been interrupted. If the phone hadn’t rung while she was sprawled across his lap, if his hands would have remained chaste or if they would have wandered, what he would do if she traced the lines of his tattoos with her tongue...so many questions. The thrum of excitement skipped over her skin as she let her mind drift for a moment over wild possibilities.
Before the intriguing fantasy could completely unfold in a room to which they both had access and had, on at least one occasion, met, to embarrassing effect, Cassie opened her eyes and reined herself in with a thoroughly disgruntled sigh. “You’re a hot mess,” she muttered to herself as she reached for the faucet.
The expected quiet of both the water and her mind were interrupted by music drifting from the room next door. A familiar tune, by a former tour-mate even, swearing that he’d leave the woman who was no good for him tomorrow, after he had just one last time tonight. Cassie knew the words, had heard it countless times over the years, had even sung a duet a couple times onstage, but hearing Mackenzie sing along as she wrapped herself in the fluffy pale blue towel that matched the bathroom décor, changed her. Something about the sadness in his voice, the longing…before she could give it too much thought, she was at the door to his room, hand poised to knock. A deep breath, two, wet hair trailing cold rivulets of water down her spine, and her only thought was what was beyond the door. She knocked and waited, a hand fisted in the knot of her towel above her breast as she heard the music attenuate.
The wooden portal swung wide, and Mack looked at her with a question in his eyes as he stepped back. The faded green shirt he’d worn on the ride, the one that had matched his eyes near exactly, was long gone, as were his boots, leaving him in just his old jeans. His tattoo was on full display, winding up from his waistband to cover half his chest in a series of intricate lines and whorls of color as it wandered down his shoulder to his wrist. She flexed her fingers against her immediate desire to touch it, like they had since she’d first gotten a glimpse.
She met his questioning gaze with one of her own, one she hoped would convey to him exactly what she wanted, what she needed from him right then. He whispered her name, a warning, a request, and she launched herself at him. Wrapping her arms around him as she kissed his mouth, his neck, his jaw. Her hands were not still, travelling down his strong shoulders and back as she held him and waited for his response to her forwardness.
Mack hesitated for a moment, arms out to the side stiffly, before finally wrapping her up in a tight embrace and shoving the door closed behind her to press her against it. One hand braced beside her head, his other wrapped around her waist to hold her close as he took control of the kiss. His tongue tangled with hers as she reveled in the heat of his body pressed against her, even noticeable through the thick towel.
The intensity of the moment tore a whimper of need from her throat, seemingly bringing him back to himself. He lifted his head with a look of terror in his eyes warring with his still-tight hold on her. Stepping away, he began to pace in front of her, driving his hands through his short red hair and leaving it in spiky disarray. The way the muscles of his arms and back bulged and stretched as he scrubbed his hands down his face was quite the distraction for her.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered stiffly, either to her or himself, she was unclear. The look of torment on his face was at odds with his heaving chest and lips that were still wet from her kisses. “We can’t do this,” he clarified as he faced her before pacing away again like a caged tiger. “We can’t, and you know why.”
Cassie’s hand on his wrist at his next fevered pass brought him to a full stop. Tracing the delicate latticework of ink lightly from his wrist to his elbow, she could tell she had his undivided attention by his stuttered exhalation. “I need this.”
Her fingers encircled his wrist, and she drew them both to the side of his expansive bed. “I want this.”
The last card she had to play made her tremble with a mix of trepidation and desire. Taking his hand, she placed it on the knot at the front of her towel, just above her breasts. She bit her lip as she dropped her hand from his, leaving the final decision up to him. “I want you.”
Cassie hissed in a breath as Mackenzie slowly dragged his knuckle up and down her sternum, always returning to the infernal towel. The waiting was interminable as she watched his eyes, now a darkened jade, travel over her skin in an almost physical caress. She wanted nothing more than to touch him, kiss him again, but knew though she’d brought them both to the door
, he was the one who would need to take them through it.
She shuddered slightly as a cold drop of water fell from the bangs she’d shoved haphazardly behind her ear onto the sensitive skin of her shoulder. He watched its progress down her chest, clearly fascinated as he reached up with the fingers of his other hand and traced its trail back up until his hand cradled her head.
The kiss was as perfect as the first, his lips demanding but oh-so-soft as the towel pooled around her feet. His bare chest against hers scalded, an epiphany that would mark her—change her—forever, and she could think of nothing she wanted more. With his arms around her, Cassie felt wanted, cherished, and protected, and his trail of kisses down her jaw and neck left her knees sagging beneath her.
Mack reacted instantly, scooping her up and depositing her gently in the bed, only to raise up and look at her like she was the most exquisite piece of art he’d ever seen. It was difficult not to preen under the attention, but she did her best to just lie back against his pillows and let him look his fill. She knew she wasn’t ugly by any means, but it still caught her a little bit sideways that people found her beautiful. However, in this moment, it felt like the most incredible privilege ever.
“I never thought I’d have you in my bed,” he murmured, reaching out with gentle fingertips to brush lightly from her elbow to her wrist. “I was afraid to dream it, because I didn’t want to live right next door to you and wonder, hope.” He sank down on the bed next to her, his curious fingers wandering up her sensitive inner arm and brushing against the side of her breast. “I’m not strong enough.”
Hearing the admission whispered in a hush brought her up on one arm as the other reached out to draw him to her. He obliged her by leaning close enough that she could skim her lips over his, and reply softly, “I think you’re plenty strong.”
Mack kissed her then, pressing her back down onto the bed with the strength of his kiss alone. Her hands took their time learning the feel of him, loving that his skin was just as soft as it had looked to her, but so much warmer, like he was a vessel of flame held in only by flesh. And the muscles she noticed the first night she’d seen him were now under her lips, making him growl and groan as she nipped at the cords of his neck and the tops of his shoulders.
Staying still beneath him was impossible, because once he’d given in, all she wanted was more of him, to absorb his essence through the inadequate means of her skin. He’d left his jeans on, and the rough fabric served as a delicious counterpoint as her hips rose to grind against the hardness it hid.
Mack seemed to revel in the newness as well, touching and tasting everything he could, like it would be taken from him at any moment. His explorations led to her nipples, where he lavished them with the gentlest touches and the most decadent applications of his talented mouth. For a man who spoke as little as he did, his tongue was certainly not lacking in agility, and Cassie was profoundly grateful.
The southbound progress of his hands had her squirming. He seemed quite eager to learn what made her gasp and moan, his intent practicing keeping her on the razor’s edge of completion, but never taking her there. Her speech reduced to groaned pleas and broken breaths as he touched her mound for the first time, pulling back to watch her spread her legs for him and raise her hips in mute request.
His darkened eyes fell shut as he found her more than ready for him, her wetness coating his fingers instantly. He withdrew his hand, locking his eyes with hers as he brought his fingers to his lips and making a show of licking them clean.
“Mackenzie.” She’d been reduced to whimpered entreaties and could not be moved to care.
As if he sensed her need, a slow grin stretched across his lips as he moved a little further down the bed and made himself comfortable between her thighs. It took a bit to accommodate his shoulders, leaving her open and exposed to him, and he took full advantage. His touch was tinged with the confidences of a man comfortable in his art, fully in his element as he gently teased her swollen bundle of nerves with the lightest of brushes.
When she arched her back, he chuckled softly, the warm breath tormenting her as much as the touch itself. “Please,” she ground out as she wound her fingers in his comforter to keep from reaching out and clawing him to draw him closer.
“Look at me,” he commanded on a whisper, her legs tensing around him and her heels digging into the bed. When she met his gaze, she knew he had been content to wait until she complied. Her acquiescence was rewarded with the feeling of his tongue against her most sensitive flesh.
Watching him watch added a layer of sensuality to the already intimate moment, and she did her best to maintain the fragile contact even as he drove her to new heights of pleasure with his skilled lips and tongue. Before too much longer, she felt the first jolt of what promised to be a spectacular fireworks show behind her eyes as her arms gave out beneath her. A hand on his head to hold him in place as he brought her right to the edge, she chanted his name like the most sacred of prayers. Finally, finally, he slid his fingers into her, the sensation enough to send her rocketing into the writhing, twitching stratosphere.
Cassie was vaguely aware of him moving, stretching her legs out so they’d eventually have feeling in them again and moving to lie next to her among the decimated collection of pillows. Taking advantage of the moment, she curled up on his shoulder and was gratified when his arms immediately came around her, like they’d been doing it forever.
His heartbeat in her ear was soothing, and he smelled positively lick-able, but her only comment was a satiated purr.
Mack chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest as he kissed her head. “I’m glad you approve.”
“I’d be a fool not to,” she conceded, her brain coming back to her in foggy little pieces, the largest of which was the chunk that desired to bring him a comparable level of soul-cleansing bliss.
He nodded sagely, a wry smile on his lips as he said, “And your momma raised no stupid children.”
She snorted a laugh and tapped him on the chest in mild rebuke. “She certainly did not.” Another full-body stretch left her feeling invigorated and more than ready to carry out her plan.
Mack went over to his back easily enough, with barely a push from her, and Cassie moved quickly to straddle him, loving the view from the top. Not confined by their relationship or obstructed by clothes, she could investigate his body to her heart’s content, and she wanted to taste the tattoo.
Shaking her hair back from her shoulder, she leaned down to nibble his collarbone, the move bringing his hands to her hips as he swallowed a gasp. Wriggling in his grasp, she licked and kissed her way down his chest, following the inked path before her and pausing, as he did, to find out what made him forsake conscious thought and erase coherent speech. His abs were a work of art, defined, but not overly so, and the way they quivered beneath her tongue could get addicting quickly. The rush of power she felt as he bucked beneath her was stronger than anything she’d known, and that included going onstage. This was a different kind of performance, though no less life-changing.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as she ran a fingernail down the distinctive demarcation point of his jeans. His hands were now fisted at his sides like hers had been, a sight that pleased her enormously.
Speaking of enormous, she giggled at her own joke, though she was serious about cupping the full ridge currently testing the strength of his button-fly jeans. Her mouth watered at the thought of tasting him as he’d done to her. Flicking open the first button, she wondered idly, “So, how far down does your tattoo go?” He blinked at the question, and she could only grin that she’d managed to render him mute in response to her sensory overload.
The placket of his jeans folded back as she opened the next two buttons, and as much as she tried to resist, Cassie found herself pressing a kiss to the hypersensitive skin there. His groan was that of a dying man as he pressed up against her. The temptation to counsel patience was obliterated by the last two buttons that were compromised beyond meas
ure and wouldn’t come loose for love or money.
She sat back on her heels to survey the situation and regroup, but Mack was having none of that; and with loud rip, the fabric gave way under his grip. It was a small but arousing display of strength and determination, one she planned to reward. His ruined jeans peeled down his legs like a banana’s skin, and then they were both naked.
Their mutual vulnerability was not lost on her, but she couldn’t dwell on it for the impressive display in front of her. Lounging casually as if they’d been lovers forever, he had one hand behind his head and the other on his belly as he watched her intense perusal of him.
He was incomprehensibly hot to her, from his toes to his ginger hair to the tattoo that started at his wrist and covered half of him all the way down to his hip, and she wanted to smother all of him in her attentions. However, there was one part of him that appeared to be in particular need. Taking her cue from him, she settled herself between his legs on her knees as she leaned over to get a closer look at her prey.
His size was a little daunting, she found as she wrapped her hand around his shaft to stroke him for the first time. Her fingers didn’t even meet, and it wasn’t due to having small hands. Cassie took her time, though, as he had, wanting to wring every ounce of pleasure from him. Paybacks were definitely a dish to be savored.
She licked her lips and Mack groaned, his heavy-lidded eyes following her every move. Feeling him go still as she brought her lips to the tip, she made sure to snag his gaze as she took him into her mouth for the first time. The stinging-hot salty flesh felt incredible against her tongue, and was easily as erotic a sensation as him touching her. She groaned around him, making his hips thrust up to meet her and plunge in deeper.
Bulletproof Princess Page 13
