“Yep.” He flicked her clit.
Her eyes rolled back. “I’m naked.”
“Yep.” He circled it.
She squirmed, unable to move an inch with his knee between her legs, his hip holding her against the door, and his fingers driving her mad. “How does this keep happening to me? Why don’t you take some clothes off?” Her words were slurred as if she were drunk.
He shook his head briefly. “Not a chance. If I did that, I’d impale you in two seconds.”
“And this would be a bad thing?” Her breath hitched and she rose onto her toes when he pinched her clit.
“You’re addictive. I can’t keep my hands off you. Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no.” I want you to take this further. Where was he getting this weird idea that he needed to handle her so carefully and take his time?
He smiled. “Good, because I love watching you come.”
She shuddered, making her breasts jiggle against his shirt, her nipples abrading the stiff pressed cotton. When he eased a finger up inside her, she whimpered. “Mack…”
“I love that sound, too. Almost as much as the little moans you make.”
She flushed, but it was impossible to care with his finger easing in and out of her and his palm now grinding into her clit. She’d never come standing up in her life. The room was spinning. Her legs were not going to support her, but it didn’t matter. Mack seemed to realize that. He planted his knee against the door between her legs.
A tight ball in Christa’s belly grew by the second, and her legs started shaking uncontrollably.
Mack adjusted his hand so that two fingers were inside her and his thumb was pressing against her clit. She lost all ability to hold back another second, drew in a long breath, and let her body tip over the edge.
Nirvana. Best feeling in the world. The pulsing, shaking, shivering mess of her lost control, leaving her panting and flinching every few seconds, even after the waves of her orgasm subsided.
Mack removed his fingers slowly and then brought them to his mouth to suck her arousal off each digit while he held her gaze.
She gulped at how erotic his actions were.
He smiled slowly as he released her wrists, still supporting her body. “You can use my tub any time you want, baby.”
She groaned and leaned her forehead against his chest.
Six hours later, Mack was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to sleep, but after making and eating dinner with Christa, cleaning the kitchen, and then going for a late-night jog with her, he’d excused himself to pretend to sleep.
For one thing, unlike her, he needed to work in the morning. For another thing, the more time he spent in her presence, the more he liked her. He couldn’t shake the images of her coming for him against the wall. He hadn’t meant to act on that urge earlier, but when she’d stepped out of his bathroom wearing that damn silk thing that barely covered her, he’d snapped.
Luckily, he’d managed to keep his dick in his pants yet again. If he let that fellow out, all bets were off. He’d held on to his control by a thread. Even now, hours later, he couldn’t shake the visualization of what he’d wanted to do.
No. Not just one visual. A dozen. All of them involved blindfolds and wrist cuffs. Most of them involved strapping her down and making her come three more times before he impaled her. He wanted to bury his face between her legs more than anything and then kiss her roughly with her own juices on his lips.
If he acted on any of that, she would be horrified and run from the house, never speaking to him again. He wouldn’t take that kind of risk. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to face the fact that there was a distinct possibility she wouldn’t be able to accept his dominant side.
There was an equal and growing distinct possibility he wouldn’t be able to squelch it. Every time she was near him, all cute and flushed and nervous, he itched to show her his darker side.
Mack tossed his forearm over his eyes and groaned. Christa would be awake for several more hours, somewhere in his house. He couldn’t hear a single noise, which didn’t surprise him. She was too polite to do anything that might disturb him. She’d already apologized several times for the fact that she needed to stay up all night, encouraging him to go on to bed, promising him she would not make a single sound.
She was probably on her bed in his guest room, legs crossed, computer on her lap. Or maybe she was reading in his living room, curled in the corner of his sectional.
Her long, pale, bare legs went on for miles when she wore shorts. His breathing grew heavier as he visualized her laid out on his kitchen table, wrists over her head, restrained and secured to the legs of the table. He wouldn’t have to tie her legs down because she would hold them open for him. Expose herself.
Her shaved pink pussy would be wet and swollen, pulsing with the need to be touched. She would keep her legs parted for him because if she didn’t, he would continue to make her wait for contact.
He gritted his teeth, picturing her breasts high and small, her pink nipples stiff. All that pure white flesh. He hadn’t had a chance to thoroughly see her yet, so he wasn’t sure if she had any tan lines. Did she slather sunscreen on her entire body every time she went out? Or would she have faint lines?
He squeezed his eyes closed as he stroked her belly in his mind, watching the dip of her navel as she shivered and moaned, squirming. Needing more. Eventually begging him to touch her.
Flicking a finger over her nipple would make her arch her chest and whimper. “Please…” He could hear her pleading with him.
His cock was so damn hard. No way would he be able to sleep if he didn’t get some relief. It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop thinking about dominating the fucking amazing woman staying in his house. The one who had no clue about his kinkier side. The one who would probably never speak to him again if she found out.
He tugged his shorts over his cock, letting it bounce free. He was so hard that it bobbed straight upward. After wrapping his hand around the shaft, he started pumping. It would only take a few strokes before he came. The visuals bombarding him would make sure of that.
Sure enough, in minutes, he sucked in a breath and held it while streams of come shot onto his chest. He didn’t let up until he was fully emptied, and then all he could do for several minutes was lie there panting, praying he hadn’t made any noises that would let Christa know he’d masturbated with her in the house.
Chapter 15
“And he just left you standing there?” Bex faked a swoon and fanned herself with her free hand.
“Yes. It was mind-boggling. First, he leaves me alone in the tub, ignoring my suggestion that he join me, and then he’s standing right outside the bathroom door and knocks me completely off my feet against the wall.”
Bex groaned as she stuffed her overnight bag in the overhead bin and then reached for Christa’s. They only had about five minutes before passengers would start boarding. “I’ve always dreamed of having sex against a wall, you lucky dog. I’d give anything for some man to flatten me to the wall and fuck me. It’s like something out of a romance novel.”
Christa sighed. “I think you missed an important part of this equation. There was no sex. I still haven’t seen this man naked. He keeps cornering me and making my body hum, and then that’s it. Plus, this was two nights ago. Since then, he’s kept his distance, kissing me sensually and then leaving me hanging.”
Bex frowned. “It is a bit odd. You’re right about that. Maybe he really is just being a gentleman. He told you as much. He doesn’t want you to think he’s only in this for the sex. It’s kind of dreamy if you think about it.”
“It was kind of dreamy—for the first date, maybe even the second, but it’s gotten old. Now it’s just weird. And he never says a word. He just drives me over the cliff and then that’s it, like it’s perfectly normal for a man to repeatedly make his girlfriend come while he doesn’t even take his pants off.” Christa shuddered. The story
sounded even wilder now that she’d told it out loud.
“Well, if you ask me, it sounds like heaven. I’ll take a man like that whose only goal is to make sure I’m satisfied every night.” She giggled.
Maybe Bex had a point, but Christa still thought it was unusual.
Voices were approaching, which meant passengers were about to enter the plane. Time to stuff visions of Mack to the back of her brain for the next eight hours.
“Hey. Look at that. You got a couch and chairs,” Mack teased as he stepped into Hatch’s living room. The man had been living here for a while, but he hadn’t purchased living room furniture yet. He said he was slowly working his way through the house. He’d started with the master bedroom and then the kitchen. “Let me guess. Now that Libby has moved in, she’s put herself in charge of bringing you into this decade.”
“Har-har,” Hatch responded. “Aren’t you the comedian.”
Sweets and Tank were already at the kitchen table unfolding the green felt poker board. They both waved as Mack entered and took his seat. The four of them had been playing poker pretty often since they all moved to Dallas. Sometimes other men joined them, but usually it ended up being the four of them who worked together.
“Is Christa still staying with you?” Sweets asked.
“Yep.”
“Are you sure she’s even looking for a place?” Hatch asked.
“You talk like she’s been with me for months. It’s been less than a week. She’s been busy. I’m not sure if she’s had time to find an apartment.” He hadn’t mentioned it a single time, mostly because he liked having her and didn’t want her to think he was encouraging her to move out. So, he said nothing.
The two of them skirted around several subjects. Their conversations were beginning to sound like a skip through land mines.
“Details, man,” Tank urged. “Is she sleeping in your bed?”
Mack sighed. “You all sound like a bunch of middle school girls.”
Sweets lifted a brow. “Well, is she?”
“No. Not usually.”
Hatch laughed. “Not usually? What does that mean? She sleeps with you sometimes?”
Mack groaned. “She works odd hours. It’s easier if I’m not sneaking out of my room trying not to disturb her. She usually sleeps in my guest room.”
“And if she stays? Is that where you intend to relegate her to? The guest room?” Hatch passed everyone a beer as he grilled Mack.
Mack took a swig of beer. “No.”
“Ah, so you’re definitely into her,” Sweets pointed out. “You didn’t deny you’re thinking you’d like her to stay.”
“I wouldn’t have taken her out in the first place if I wasn’t into her.”
Hatch took a seat across from Mack. “That was so last week. You didn’t know her yet. Since then, you’ve invited her to live with you.”
Mack eyed each man. “Look, it’s not like that. She’s…kinda innocent. She’s not the kind of woman you fuck with. I’d be a dick to toy with her. I like her, but like you all pointed out, it’s been a week. I don’t think she’s the kind of woman I’m going to wet my dick with if I don’t have good intentions for the future. So, back off, and let me take my time.”
Sweets whistled. “You think she’s a virgin?”
“Maybe.” Mack wasn’t positive, but it seemed probable. He hadn’t come right out and asked her. It was just a suspicion. She made it clear she wanted to have sex with him, but he just wasn’t sure she realized what she was getting herself into.
It was growing increasingly more difficult to avoid his desire to show her exactly who he was with each passing day. She didn’t have a clue. She probably didn’t even know the word vanilla, let alone the opposite.
Both times he’d made her fall apart in his arms, he’d held back his instinct to get rough. The more he got to know her, the more he suspected she would pack her shit and run from his house if she had a single clue what he thought about doing to her when he was alone with his dick in his hand.
This situation couldn’t go on much longer though. He was either going to have to figure out a way to rein in his dominant side and make a personal commitment to vanilla or tell her what he really craved and take a risk that she might leave him. She was going to get suspicious if he put off fucking her fully for much longer.
Hell, when he’d left her in his room after fingering her to orgasm against the bathroom door, the look of confusion and desire in her eyes had nearly killed him. He needed a plan, and soon.
Tank cleared his throat. “Hey, I hate to change the subject from Mack’s sex life to something far less appealing, but I wanted to update you all on what I found out about that human trafficking situation on Open Skies.”
Mack set his beer down. They all did.
“So, it turns out there’s a particular sting the FBI is working on here in Dallas. Massage parlors.”
Mack groaned. He abhorred that particular subject. Those sleazy places popped up everywhere lately. They were no longer something found in dark allies in third world countries. He knew there were hot spots in Dallas, but he hadn’t done any particular research. “And they think the girls are being brought here on Open Skies?”
“Yes. They aren’t the only airline, but it seems they’re being specifically targeted.”
Hatch leaned his elbows on the table. “Libby didn’t mention that. I don’t think they’re telling their employees anything that specific. Just a basic reminder to be on the lookout.”
Mack nodded. “He’s right. I read the email. I bet the situation is a bit more dire than they’re telling the employees.”
“I’m not surprised,” Sweets added. “If the flight attendants thought every flight coming into Dallas might have potential victims on it, they would get punchy.”
Mack ran a hand over his face. “Maybe they need to be punchy.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about the level of danger this could pose. There was always a risk when a flight attendant turned in someone suspicious. He made a mental note to ask Christa what the procedure was and make sure she handled everything as safely as possible if she ever found herself facing a possible victim being held against her will.
Chapter 16
Christa bolted upright in bed, glancing around the room, not quite certain what woke her up. She was in Mack’s guest room. The blinds were closed, but they let in a bit too much light for someone who slept days.
A glance at the clock told her it was just after ten in the morning, and she groaned. She needed at least four more hours of sleep. Fuck.
She flopped back down, rolled onto her side, and a noise grabbed her attention. The doorbell? Shit. Jesus. No. Not happening. That must have been what awakened her the first time now that she thought about it.
She grabbed the spare pillow and pulled it over her head. Whoever it was would go away in a second. Probably a delivery. Or someone selling something. Or heaven forbid someone intent on helping her find God.
Thirty seconds later, the bell rang yet again.
Shit.
And then knocking. Loud, persistent knocking she could easily hear from the closed bedroom. Obviously, whoever it was had no intention of leaving her alone. Her car was in the driveway, so the person must have assumed someone was in the house.
More knocking.
Unless the house was on fire, and the guest urgently needed her to evacuate, there was a chance she would strangle the person. Grumbling under her breath, she swung her legs around and got out of bed. She was wearing her usual T-shirt and shorts. Acceptable for opening the door.
Dragging a hand through her mess of hair, she padded toward the front door and opened it without looking in the peephole.
Yes. There was a greater than fifty percent chance she would be arrested for murder today. “Are you serious? What the hell are you doing?”
Tina winced dramatically. “Did I wake you?”
Christa narrowed her gaze. She assumed flames were coming out of her head, so there had to at le
ast be steam.
Tina glanced at her phone. “It’s after ten. I didn’t figure you would be sleeping.”
Christa rolled her eyes, groaning. “That’s a lie, and you know it. What the hell do you want?”
She smiled a giant fake smile and shrugged. “Well, you told me not to walk in unannounced, so I wanted to respect your boundaries.”
“I also told you I sleep days and work nights, but that didn’t stop you from respecting any boundaries, did it?”
“Oops. I must have forgotten that detail. So sorry.”
This woman was on Christa’s last nerve, and if Mack wanted to continue to insist she was some sweet sisterly figure, he was going to find himself alone and lonely because no one would tolerate this bitch, let alone Christa. She had no patience for this shitshow. “I’m going to ask one more time. What. Do. You. Want?”
“Oh, right. I was just going to water the plants, out back and along the front porch, and I didn’t want to scare you, so I thought I’d let you know.”
Christa slammed the door in Tina’s face, locked it, and stomped back to the bedroom. It was the safest course of action. Murder One would be too disruptive to her life plans.
She closed the bedroom door, locked it, and put her earbuds in. After turning on her phone and selecting oscillating fan as her white noise choice, she climbed back under the covers. It would take her a while to calm down enough to go back to sleep, but at least the earbuds might drown out whatever antics Tina chose next.
That bitch was a piece of work. Christa was obviously not going to get any sleep as long as she stayed here. Tina would make sure of it. Christa considered giving up on sleep and spending the morning finding a place to live.
She’d been lazy about calling apartment complexes because she had a crush on Mack that wasn’t subsiding, and part of her wanted to figure out where it might go. She couldn’t stay here forever of course, but it had been entertaining knowing a man she had the hots for may or may not feel the same way.
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