by Moira Rogers
The thought made her queasy. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe normally. Tried not to panic. “Is that what the rest of my life is going to be? People who only care about how many babies they can get out of me? People who would kill for it?”
Jackson leaned over her, laying his hand on her cheek. “What happened to Alec and his wife isn’t commonplace. The rest of his family may not have approved of her, but they were horrified by what his cousin did.” He rubbed his thumb over her lips. “But I’d be lying if I said it couldn’t happen.”
She studied his face. The strong jaw, the lips that smiled so readily, the impossibly blue eyes that made her heart beat too fast. She swallowed and turned her face to his hand to kiss his palm. “I don’t think I could handle it if someone tried to hurt you just because you’re with me.”
“Don’t I get to decide if I can handle the risk?”
“Can you? I don’t mean—I’m not asking if you’re willing to. I mean, can you handle it if someone comes after you? Can you keep yourself safe? You’re not human, but…” She thought of the torn bedspread and how easily the fabric had ripped under her hands. What could she do to a human if she tried? What couldn’t she do?
“You don’t have to worry about me, baby.” The corner of his mouth curled up. “I can hold my own. My interesting tricks, remember?”
“Is it worth it?” Hesitation uncurled inside her. “Is that a risk you want to handle?”
His smile widened, and her heart stuttered when he tilted up her chin and kissed her softly. “Not much could make me happier right now.”
It felt wrong to be so happy with the world falling apart around her, but she slid her hands into Jackson’s hair and kissed him, hard. She traced her tongue along his lips and pushed inside, moaning softly as she urged him to reciprocate, as she begged him to show her that it was enough, she was enough—that they were enough, together.
Jackson groaned deep in his chest and curled his tongue around hers. His hand, solid and warm, drifted down her body, coming to rest on her hip. Otherwise, he did nothing but touch his mouth to hers, exploring with excruciating slowness.
With the cat sated, Mackenzie was free to melt into the pleasure of being so skillfully kissed. Arousal unfurled inside her again, slow and patient as the heat between them built. She made another noise as his tongue caressed hers, something that sounded more like a whimper than a moan.
He bit her chin and raised his head. “Are you exhausted?”
She didn’t think it would be possible to feel exhausted, not with him staring at her with such obvious, sensual intent. Her breath caught and she stroked her hand down the back of his neck and along his shoulder. “No, but I haven’t been driving all day. Are you exhausted?”
“Not yet.” The words were heavy with promise. “Ask me in an hour.”
Her breathing hitched again and she froze. “Wait. I don’t want to hurt you, and I have no idea how to control it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t really think we have to worry too much about it. I’m pretty sturdy.”
The bedspread looked pretty sturdy too. But she smiled and lifted her fingers to his lips. “Okay. If I start to think I’m going to lose it, I’ll just clutch the headboard and hope Marcus brought enough to cover the damage we’re going to do to this place.”
Jackson pulled her hands away and urged them toward the plain wooden headboard. “I did.” He tugged her shirt aside and traced his tongue over her collarbone as his fingers unbuttoned the top three buttons on her shirt.
She sighed in pleasure and curled her fingers around the wood. “This’ll do for now, but I really want to learn how to deal with this so I can explore.”
“Unless you want to go drink daiquiris and chat in the hotel bar, we’re on our own tonight, darlin’.”
As if they were leaving the room. “I was thinking more about later. You know, in a couple of weeks, when I can let you out of my sight again.”
One more button and the shirt gaped open just enough to bare her breasts. He smiled and barely skated his tongue around each of her nipples before speaking again. “You’re not even going to let me work?”
The wood under her fingers creaked, and she sucked in a sharp breath and tried not to arch into him. “Not if we could be doing this.”
He hummed in answer as he captured her nipple in his mouth and laved it with his tongue. He edged her knees apart and reached down to stroke the inside of her thigh.
She did arch up this time, struggling against the urge to drop her hand to the back of his head. “Christ!” He just moved his hand higher, until his fingers slicked against her, seeking.
“Jackson.” She tore one hand from the headboard and reached for the back of his head. “Come here, I want to…I need—”
He raised his head, grinning, but the heat in his gaze seared her. “I thought you were going to crush the headboard and not my neck.”
She whimpered and rocked her hips into his slow caress, her other hand falling to the bed sheets. “Do you have a plan of action, or are you just seeing how crazy you can make me?”
“I thought that was a valid plan of action.”
His fingers brushed a gentle, teasing circle, and she moaned. “Jackson!”
One of his fingers slipped inside her. “Mackenzie.”
The headboard creaked again, more alarmingly this time. “If I can’t touch you, at least let me kiss you.”
He bent until his lips hovered a mere inch over hers. “You want a kiss? Take it.”
Mackenzie groaned and chased after his lips, seizing them in a blistering kiss. She poured everything into it, her desperate need to touch him, her arousal and passion, even the tiny fluttering warmth inside her that whispered insane things about love.
Jackson coaxed her mouth open wider, made her lips and tongue tingle, and his hand moved against her. When he thrust a second finger in, her arousal spiked. She tore her mouth from his, kissed his jaw and nuzzled his neck. “Mine.” It was almost a question, a testing to see how he’d respond.
He raised his free hand and twisted it into her hair, holding her mouth closer to his skin. “Yes.”
Satisfaction thrilled through her, more powerful than the pleasure from his maddening touch. She licked the pulse pounding in his throat and closed her teeth gently over it.
He answered her claim with a soft groan. “You have no idea how messed up I was while you were gone, Kenzie.”
“I’m here.” She dropped her head back to the bed as he brought his thumb up to rub dizzying circles in counterpoint to the thrusts of his fingers. Her entire body tightened, barreling toward release so fast it stole her breath. “God, God, I’m going to—”
“Yes.” His mouth found her neck, and he echoed her action by sinking his teeth into her skin as she arched her hips into his touch. It wasn’t gentle—it almost hurt—but it twisted something inside her, something primal. Something needy.
It burst the dam, sending pleasure sliding through her in a scalding wave that curled her toes and tightened her fingers around the headboard until she swore it would bear the imprint of her fingers. She choked on a scream and scrambled to clutch at the bedspread as he coaxed the wave to crest again with nothing but his skillful fingers and his mouth on her throat.
He crushed his mouth to hers as he moved over her but froze between her legs. “Dammit. My wallet…”
Mackenzie fought a brief inner battle even as her hips pushed against him. The woman won out, and she groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. “I haven’t exactly been picking up my birth control prescription on the run.”
“So I figured.” He panted and rolled away to reach over the edge of the bed. Finally, he made a triumphant noise and sat up, condom in hand. “Got one.”
“Then get back here.” She plucked the condom from his fingers, tearing it open with hands that shook. “You’re m
aking me a little crazy, Jackson Holt.”
He stretched out on the sheets and watched her, one hand on her thigh. “So my evil plan to tease and torment has worked.”
The shaking in her hands only increased as she smoothed the condom on, teasing her fingers down his erection until he thrust against her hands. She sucked in a breath and pulled back. “Sit up. Against the headboard.”
He obeyed and gripped her hips as she climbed over him. “We seem to be doing okay without the shapeshifter-sex crash course,” he noted. “Maybe you should try holding on to me.”
“Maybe.” The thought of hurting him made it hard to concentrate. She curled her fingers around the headboard on either side of his shoulders and brushed her lips over his as she lifted her hips. “But this is nice too.”
He framed her face with his hands and smiled gently. “Yeah. This is nice too.”
She wanted to go fast, to slam her hips against his and drive them both over the edge. Instead she savored the feeling as he slid inside her, digging her teeth into her lower lip as she lowered herself. She fought the urge to close her eyes and focused on his face instead, on the way he watched her, like there was no one outside their room. No one else in the world.
His head thumped against the headboard, and he ran his hands around to splay across her back. “Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah.” She sank down the last few inches and clutched at the headboard as the feelings intensified. She lowered her mouth to his throat, and licked across his pulse and up to his ear. “This is perfect.”
“Mmm.” His big hands urged her closer, until her mostly bare breasts pressed tightly to the wall of his chest. “I can already tell… Slow sex is going to be a tough one for us.”
Slow was impossible at the moment. Mackenzie rocked her hips and moaned. “Maybe later, when we’ve had lots of practice.”
Jackson’s breath came in short, labored pants, and she could tell he was struggling for control. “You have some of the best damn ideas, darlin’.”
She rubbed her cheek against his. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want all of you,” he whispered. “I want to make you come.”
“Again?” She closed her eyes and savored the friction of their bodies rubbing together as she moved against him. “Greedy.”
“Lust and avarice,” he agreed. His hands dropped to her hips and dragged her down more sharply. “My only vices.”
She gasped and let her head fall back. Her fingers tightened on the headboard and she quickened her pace. “Help me. Come with me.”
A short, harsh curse was his only answer. He guided her hips, thrusting up harder when she lowered her body to his. Passion and pleasure mounted, and a light sheen of sweat dampened Jackson’s skin. “Shit,” he hissed. “Baby—”
She barely heard him. Blood pounded in her ears and she ground down, chasing the release that trembled just out of reach. He thrust into her one last time and the world flew apart. She cried out as everything faded but his body inside hers and the sounds and scents of pleasure and release.
Jackson’s fingers clenched on her hips, holding her as he stiffened and shuddered. His rasping, desperate groan tickled her ears and shivered up her spine. Then he relaxed, dropping his forehead to her shoulder.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she mirrored him, nuzzling her face into his neck. “Jackson. God.”
His chest heaved at first and settled into a steady rhythm as he slowly caught his breath. “Yeah.”
She inhaled deeply. “Maybe I need to put the magical pants back on.”
“Would that involve getting out of this bed?”
Mackenzie couldn’t remember where the pants had ended up, or how many pieces they’d been in at the time. “Maybe it’s not that important.”
He raised his head and sighed regretfully. “I think it probably is.”
“Okay, except I don’t know if I can move. My knees aren’t feeling all that solid.”
Jackson lifted her off his body with a grin and laid her gently on the bed beside him. He paused by the bed and found her pants. “Here. Now you don’t have to move.” He brushed a kiss over her forehead and headed for the bathroom.
There was so much to talk about. So much to say, not just about what she’d gone through, but what had happened at the mansion. Mackenzie wiggled into the warded pants and rebuttoned the oversized shirt before curling up again with her head on the plush pillows. Too much to say…and all she wanted to do was snuggle into Jackson’s arms and sleep. Even knowing intellectually that the danger was far from past…
He padded quietly out of the bathroom and warmth flooded her. She felt safe with him. She felt peaceful now that he was here with her, now that he was safe. After the past week of terror, she was so giddy with the sudden relief that she felt light-headed.
He stopped and frowned at her as he reached for his underwear. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little spun.”
“I feel like we should be getting dressed and going to find everyone else. Like we need to be making plans or something.” She inched over as he slid into the bed next to her. “But I’m so tired, and I feel safe now.”
“We can go downstairs,” he offered. “Or we can sleep. Trust me when I say Nick and Alec aren’t expecting to see us until breakfast.”
“But everything that happened…” Her protest sounded weak, even to her own ears. She didn’t want to go anywhere. “I guess we can wait to talk to them. I couldn’t process much right now anyway.”
“We can talk about it later. Everything, Mackenzie. Just…later.”
Later. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. His body felt warm, strong. Perfect. We’ll talk about it later.
As reprieves went it wasn’t much, but it was something. Enough. Whatever comes tomorrow, I won’t have to face it alone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“That’s when we found out you and Marcus had already hightailed it out of there.” Jackson stalled by pouring cream in his coffee and reaching for another muffin. He didn’t want to burden Mackenzie with the details of what came next. “So Charles tossed Marcus’s friend into the wall and shot Steven.”
Mackenzie’s face tightened, and her hands shook as she lowered her teacup to the table. “I should have found a way to contact you. I should have found a way. It was for nothing.”
“If I’m not allowed to blame myself for dragging everyone else into this, neither are you.” He fixed her with a serious stare. “I’m not kidding, Kenzie. Stop saying it. Stop thinking it.”
She swallowed. “It’s so much pain and death over me. Because of me. I know it’s not my fault, that I didn’t ask for it—”
“No, you didn’t.” None of us did. “Steven knew he probably wasn’t going to make it out of there. He felt responsible for Charles’s actions, and he was willing to risk his life to stop him.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “So we’re going to do it for him.”
She squeezed back. “You think we can?”
I think we have to. “If we can find him.”
“We can—” She paused and tilted her head to the side. “Nick’s coming. Well, I suppose everyone’s coming, but I can hear Nick.”
Jackson looked up in time to see Nick and Alec walk through the dining room door, arguing, with Marcus close behind.
“Just admit you were pissed off about it,” Nick demanded.
“There was nothing to be pissed off about.”
“Except for the fact that Marcus had more women crawling on him, and you can’t stand that.”
“Honey, if you think I’m that insecure, you haven’t been paying attention.”
She groaned and snatched an apple from the glass bowl on the table as Alec jerked out the chair next to Mackenzie’s. “How exhausting is it, Alec, carrying around that ego?”
Alec scrubbed a hand over h
is face. “A lot less exhausting than listening to you bitch all the time.”
Jackson sighed. “If you two keep bickering like this, people are going to think you’re having sex.”
Alec laughed and scooted over so Marcus could slide another chair in next to his. “Only people who don’t have to watch her lovesick puppy routine around Derek.”
Nick sat beside Jackson and shrugged. “Whatever, Jacobson. You already spilled the beans. The man loves me.”
“Uh-huh. God help him.” Alec leaned forward and stole Jackson’s coffee. “So, Casanova, have we got a plan?”
“We go home. We look for him, and we get ready.” What he didn’t say, what Alec already knew, was that they wouldn’t find Charles Talbot if he wanted to hide. They couldn’t.
But he would come to them.
“What about Mahalia? Is she staying in New York?”
“Far as I know.” Mahalia didn’t particularly want to see any of them, and he didn’t blame her.
Mackenzie spoke, her tone oddly protective. “Marcus wants to go to New York. Can you arrange for him to meet with your father, Nick? Maybe he can answer some of your sister’s questions about Charles.”
She smiled. “Sure. Marcus mentioned something about it last night. I’m going to call Daddy this morning.”
Marcus nodded. “Nick thinks her father can help me talk to the Conclave about Eddie.”
“Right.” Nick twisted the stem from her apple. “I’m going to call Ronnie Coleman, too. She mediates for the Conclave, but I think she’d be interested in Eddie’s case.”
“Good.” Mackenzie squeezed Marcus’s shoulder lightly. “They can protect him, right? I mean, in case—in case anyone comes after him?”
Nick barked out a laugh. “Charles Talbot’s crazy, but he’s not crazy enough to try waltzing through the Conclave. Though we’d all be lucky if he tried it. They’d eat him alive.”
Jackson nodded. “Marcus would be a guest, entitled to every protection. They’d guard his life with theirs.”
