Hero in the Nick of Time

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Yes, we did.” Taking out the container, she placed it in the freezer. “I snuck it in when you weren’t looking.”

  That wasn’t the only thing she had snuck in when he wasn’t looking, he realized. Because while he hadn’t been looking, hadn’t been anticipating, McKayla had somehow managed to sneak in beyond the fences he kept up. Snuck into a region that he liked to keep strictly free, strictly open.

  Mac felt him looking at her. Turning toward him, she was suddenly unsure again. Taking a stroll over a tightrope without even making sure it was properly strung up from here to there.

  She ran her tongue over her dry bottom lip. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Yes,” he said softly, “there is.”

  “What?”

  Mystified, Cade heard himself saying words that were forming without his conscious consent. “Make me forget everything I just said.”

  Mac wondered if he could hear her heart beating. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “I think, for once in your life, you’ve underestimated yourself, McKayla,” he said as his arms closed around her.

  Chapter 11

  If Mac underestimated herself, she underestimated the effect Cade would have on her even more.

  From the moment she willingly stepped out of the safeguards she’d created for herself, she was completely lost. From the instant his lips touched hers, she was found again. Found, but in such a very different way.

  Everything in her world changed.

  Everything that had been so orderly, so mapped out even in the midst of the chaos swirling around her, fell apart as if it had been just so many scrapings brushed off the surface of a burned piece of toast. Specks flying into the wind.

  He made her blood sing to a tune she’d always suspected was out there somewhere, but had never heard before.

  First slowly, then with more feeling, more depth, Cade’s lips claimed hers, taking her out of the enclosed four walls of the house where they were pretending to be married and into the skies.

  Taking her out of herself.

  She could feel her body quickening, ripening. Yearning for him even as they just stood there in the kitchen, held fast in place by passions that had been a long time in coming.

  She felt so fragile in his hands, so fragile against his body, Cade was afraid he’d break her if he wasn’t careful. And wouldn’t she just love to know that? She sped through life like a runaway train, yet he couldn’t shake the image of someone delicate beneath the smoke and noise.

  The length and breadth of his desire was suddenly so huge, so unmanageable and oh, so definitely in the driver’s seat. It took every last bit of restraint he had not to just scoop her up in his arms and carry her off to the bedroom to make love with her.

  The way he wanted to.

  But each kiss took him farther away from the center of his control, farther into the inferno he’d uncovered just beneath the surface. The one that threatened to engulf them both.

  Heart pounding, Cade ran his hands along her supple, sleek body. Assuring himself that this was real, that it wasn’t just something that had materialized from nowhere in the middle of the night, shrouded in a misty dream to slip into his sleep to taunt him and remind him that once he’d been a man, with a man’s appetites, a man’s hunger. A man’s needs.

  Needs.

  The word sprang up at him in big, bold letters, only to be consumed the next moment by the fire flaring from within.

  Needs. He needed her.

  The realization occurred to him, even as he struggled to understand, to make sense of the implications. He hadn’t needed, hadn’t allowed himself to need, anyone for a very long time.

  Needing brought vulnerability and pain in its wake, sweeping away everything that came before and leaving only ashes in its wake.

  And yet ..

  But that was for later, when he could think. When ramifications joined hands with consequences to haunt and taunt, and weigh heavily on his mind. That wasn’t for now.

  Now was for loving.

  For feeling.

  For touching.

  He heard Mac’s sharp intake of breath as he pulled her to him even more, molding her body to his and his to hers. The fit was perfect.

  As was the woman.

  Mac gave herself up to him, to the sensations racing around inside, screaming for release. More than for release, for validation. Begging for it.

  And for more.

  She could feel her body vibrating in delicious, burning anticipation with each pass of Cade’s hands, each kiss that singed her skin. Mac was vaguely aware that he was peeling her clothes away, not roughly the way she would have expected a man to do, but gently, as if each layer was made of delicate parchment that would give way and tear if he moved too quickly.

  First her blouse left her body, then her skirt, then the straps of her bra, which he moved aside bit by torturous bit. As if to tease them both. Prime them both.

  By the time she felt the clasp release at her back, she was vibrating like a tuning fork and her breath was something she had only a nodding acquaintance with. It barely remained within her lungs long enough to keep her conscious before it whooshed away again.

  She’d never felt this way before. And wound never feel this way again. That certainty brought a bittersweet sadness with it that she would have found intolerable if she’d only been able to retain it long enough to remember.

  But he swept everything in his path away with the touch of his hand, with the press of his lips.

  She curled her arms around his neck, her head dropping back as he wove a ring of light, feathery kisses around the base of her throat. She could feel her pulse jumping, could feel the bra slipping away.

  She couldn’t be nude when he was still dressed. The thought intruded suddenly, prying apart the almost-solid waves of heat surrounding her brain. Coming to life, Mac began working the buttons of his shirt out of their holes, her fingertips numb.

  None gave way, stubbornly remaining exactly where they were. She felt like ripping the shirt off him. That this kind of feeling was completely out of character for her only whispered mildly along the perimeters of her mind. Center stage was frustration.

  “What are they, glued in place?” A slash of accusation creased her brow.

  She looked adorable stymied. Cade laughed softly at her exuberance, all the while struggling to hold his own mounting excitement in check.

  “It’s done with mirrors,” he murmured. With effort, he squelched the impulse to help, preferring the feel of her fingers against his chest as she struggled to undress him herself.

  “Well, if they don’t start cooperating,” she warned, “they’re going to be broken mirrors very soon.”

  He’d known she’d be like this. In his heart, he’d known that she would be all flame and passion. That if he scratched the surface, this fiery woman would leap out.

  Just seeing her in the throes of passion ignited that small part of him that was still dormant, causing it to burst into flame.

  Now there were no safeguards left, no tiny islands floating in an endless sea of fire on which to seek escape. There was no escape from what he was feeling.

  He wanted her.

  It had been years since he’d felt like this. Years since he’d even looked at a woman. He’d been so hollow inside after losing Elaine and then Darin, he’d been certain that there was nothing there left to feel. Nothing left that he could feel.

  He’d been wrong.

  Burying his hands in the wild tangle of her hair, Cade cupped the back of Mac’s neck and brought his mouth down to hers. Devouring it. Becoming something he’d never been before. A man consumed with and by desire. The agony was wonderful.

  The rest happened in such a blur, it was difficult later to relate what transpired to the image he’d had of himself. Like two pieces of a puzzle that had been suddenly altered, the image was no longer complete. The pieces no longer fit.

  The closer he came to having McKayla, the
farther away he journeyed from the man he knew himself to be. Calm, sedate, reasonable. Driven not by emotions but by smooth, careful logic. There was nothing logical about this. None of it made any sense, except in the most unreasonable of ways.

  It didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered as long as he could be with her like this. As long as he could feast on her body, drink from her lips and glory in the very essence of her.

  The remainder of his clothing, and hers, matted on the shining, newly installed kitchen floor in a tangle he could only hope would soon be imitated by them.

  Arms woven around one another, lips sealed, they sank to the floor by silent agreement. Cade heard himself groaning in raw pleasure as he felt Mac’s hands sliding along his bare skin, skimming, touching, exploring. Owning every place she touched.

  Owning. Owning him.

  The realization, or fragment as it were, shook him down to his very core. It would have sent him fleeing, seeking escape if he’d been able to hold on to the thought.

  But he couldn’t.

  All he could hold on to, all he wanted to hold on to, was her. And what she was doing to him.

  His mouth grazed Mac’s chin as his teeth lightly nipped at her. Then, taking a better hold of her lower lip, he drew it in and suckled. Thousands of threads of pleasure went shooting throughout her body, leaving no place untouched.

  Unable to remain still, she twisted beneath him. Her tongue darted out and met Cade’s, sending electrical currents out to singe the threads.

  Grasping her by the waist before Mac managed to maneuver over him and straddle him, Cade swung around, neatly reversing their positions. He pressed her back against the floor, his fingers woven through hers and holding them aloft, his mouth beginning a torturous journey down along the length of her creamy skin. Teasing, heating, moistening. And leaving her a mass of heaving, quivering flesh when he finally reached his goal.

  With quick, sharp movements, his tongue darted in and out between her inner thighs.

  She arched in spasmodic response, her eyes flying open as sudden, sharp surprise clutched her in its palm. She peaked the instant his tongue found her core. Explosions racked her body with sweet, agonizing pleasure.

  Ragged breath sucked back into her lungs as her fingers came in contact with air, searching for him. Needing him. Needing to pull Cade into this circle of fire before she was too exhausted to hold on to him.

  But Cade remained where he was, enjoying not the power he had over her, but the sight of her reactions. Her reactions to him.

  But rather than a captor, he found himself a captive of the woman he was pleasuring. A prisoner of her desires. And his own.

  Unable to hold back any longer, he slowly drew the length of his body up along hers, hardening more with each brush. Restraint was quickly breaking through all the steely bands that held it in place.

  As he was poised over her, his eyes took hers before he came to her. Before their bodies sealed together in mute promise and silent surrender.

  He heard her sudden gasp, tasted it in his mouth the same moment he felt the physical resistance to his initial thrust. It was his turn to be enveloped in surprise. He would have retreated if it were up to him.

  But it wasn’t. The last thin thread of control was wrenched from his hands as McKayla grasped hold of his shoulders and held him to her, arching her back so that her hips thrusted toward his. With a soft whimper that turned into a guttural moan, she wrapped her legs around him and melded with his body.

  There was no choice.

  There was only the crest and the journey to get there. And when they’d reached it, the sweetness that drenched him rained down on her as well.

  Spent, he felt euphoria descend, blanket and then dissolve away in lightning speed. Even as he lay there, too tired to move, feeling her heart pounding wildly beneath his, guilt came to claim him. To clamp shackles over his wrists and ankles and hold him fast.

  He shouldn’t have allowed this to happen. Not after he’d realized—

  Balancing himself on his elbows, he drew back from Mac so that he could look at her. His hands framed her face as he looked for the blame he was certain would be in her eyes.

  What he saw first was the imprint his mouth had left on hers. The lines of her lips were blurred beyond recognition.

  Damn it, he wouldn’t have thought—

  But she was over twenty-one...over twenty-five. How was he supposed to have known?

  There were things Mac couldn’t read in his eyes, but the turmoil was easy enough to make out. Apprehension stole over her, wearing very heavy, steel-tipped boots. “What?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Something froze inside of her as her heart scurried for high ground. For shelter it couldn’t find. “Tell you what?”

  “Don’t play dumb, McKayla.” Sitting up, his eyes cut small holes in her. “You’re not dumb and pretending doesn’t become you. Why didn’t you tell me you were...that you’d never...”

  His voice trailed off, strangled by anger, by frustration and by a pervasive helplessness that he’d destroyed something precious because of his own lack of restraint.

  She struggled to maintain her dignity, to keep the tears that were suddenly, inexplicably forming from falling.

  “Tell you what?” she demanded hotly. “That I’d never met a man before that I wanted to be with?” Hadn’t he been listening to her? “I told you that.”

  Shaking his head, damning his soul, he dragged a hand impatiently through his hair. How did he make this right? You couldn’t backtrack over something like this. She’d been a virgin, damn it, and he’d taken her like a rutting beast. He’d robbed her of her first time, and there was no way he could make that up to her.

  “No, you said there’d never been anyone you’d ever loved.”

  She stared at him. “Well?” she demanded. “What did that mean to you? Did you think I was the type who slept with every breathing male I came across?”

  “No, but—these days, well—” In all his life, his tongue had never felt so tangled before. His thoughts never so jumbled.

  And then Mac suddenly understood what the problem was. With cool dignity cloaking her body, she gathered her clothes to her and rose to her feet, looking down at him coldly. “Don’t worry, Cade, you don’t have to feel obligated to me.”

  “Obligated?” He jumped to his feet, seemingly oblivious to his own naked state. “Damn it, McKayla, I feel guilty.”

  “Guilty? For what?” The demand was hot on her lips. He wasn’t making any sense. But he was making her hot again. Try as she might, she couldn’t block out the sight of his nude body standing right before her. “For giving me pleasure? For turning everything on its side and making the whole world fade away in a huge ball of fire?”

  She was twisting things, absolving Cade of the blame that was his. He couldn’t just lightly shrug what had happened away. “For not realizing that I was the first.”

  She raised her chin defensively. “And if you’d known? Would it have stopped you?”

  He honestly didn’t know. He would have liked to think that he had enough self-restraint, enough decency to walk away and leave her intact, but he honestly didn’t know.

  Cade pressed his lips together, searching his soul and still not coming up with an answer. “It might have.”

  “Liar. You wanted me.” A touch of a smug smile lifted the corners of her mouth, cooling her anger. “I could see it in your eyes just then And I can see it now.”

  Damn her, she was right. Cade had wanted her Still wanted her. But that didn’t make it right, didn’t blot out the guilt.

  “Wanting has nothing to do with it.”

  He was wrong, didn’t he see that? Mac thought. “It has everything to do with it.” For a second, her voice softened. “Don’t overthink this, Cade.” And then her resolve kicked in again. “You don’t owe me anything for what just happened here—except maybe the courtesy to have let me enjoy it a few minutes after it was over in
stead of suddenly launching into an attack.”

  She still didn’t understand, did she? “I’m not attacking you, damn it,” Cade said.

  “Well, it certainly feels that way from where I’m standing.” The defensive edge was back in Mac’s voice, in her soul.

  Without realizing it, he took hold of her shoulders, not knowing if he was going to shake her, or hug her. Wanting to do both.

  “It shouldn’t. I’m attacking me. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

  “To me?” He couldn’t have said anything more inflammatory to her if he’d tried. Mac jerked out of his grasp “Mister, I was under the impression that we were in this thing together. That we were ‘doing it’ to each other.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she steeled herself off for the piercing stab of truth. As far as she could see, there was only one reason for his regretting what just happened between them.

  “Was I that bad at it?”

  Cade stared at her face. How could she even think that? “No, you were that good.” She was getting him completely confused. With effort, Cade tried to focus. “But I still shouldn’t have—”

  “Shouldn’t have what? Shouldn’t have made me happy? Shouldn’t have made me feel wonderful?” Mac fairly shouted the words at him. “Sorry, too late.” Rather than rush into her clothes, she held them against her. With as much dignity as she could muster, given the situation, she turned her back and began to walk away to her room. “But like I said, I won’t hold you to it.”

  “McKayla—”

  She blinked back tears, afraid that they were going to spill out. “Go away.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The words stopped her. Just long enough for Cade to cross to her and turn her around again to face him. Mac raised her chin. “I told you to go away.” A tiny bit of a smile began to surface. “Now I’m going to have to kill you.”

  One by one, Cade took the clothes she was holding away from her and dropped them on the floor again until her arms were empty. And ready for him. “I’d rather you made love with me again.”

  Mac sighed dramatically as her heart sped up its beat again. “Well, if I have to, I have to.” As he gathered her to him, she wound her arms around his neck. She hadn’t a clue as to where she stood with him. But they weren’t back to square one, which was all that mattered. “It’s a dirty job, but I guess someone has to do it.”