Mack's Witness

by Myla Jackson

  She dropped her clothes at her feet and slid her arms behind her to cup his buttocks, pressing him to her, his cock nudging her behind.

  He backed a step and another until his legs bumped against the bed as he parted her folds and stroked that nubbin of flesh that made her purr like a kitten.

  Deirdre moaned again, her legs easing apart, her bottom rubbing against him.

  Mack flicked and coaxed her clit while he pinched her nipple between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand.

  She writhed, her body undulating like the ebb and flow of waves. “Too much,” she whispered.

  He spun with her in his arms and turned her to face him as he lifted her to sit on the edge of the bed. Then he nudged her knees apart and dropped down between them and started laying kisses along the insides of her thighs, first the right one, then the left. Starting at the curve of her knee, he worked his way closer to her damp entrance, glistening with the dew of her excitement.

  With his fingers, he parted her folds, pressing a thumb into her channel. “Stay,” he whispered, blowing a warm stream of air over her pussy. His gaze locked with hers as he flicked his tongue out, tapping her clit.

  Her chest rose on a swiftly indrawn breath, her eyes widening as he flicked her again. “You’re making it hard to say no.”

  “Then say yes.” He flicked her again then swiped his tongue in a long, steady caress along the narrow strip of densely packed nerve endings, praying he hit the right spot.

  She let go of the breath she’d been holding and said, “Okay, you win. But only a little while longer.” Deirdre dug her fingers into his scalp and held him close, while he sucked, nibbled, tongued and nipped her clit.

  He wanted more, but any time she was willing to give him was better than none. He vowed to make her want to stay with every flick of his finger, stroke of his tongue and caress.

  Hours later, Deirdre lay spooned against Mack’s body, his arm draped over her hip. She’d had more orgasms in one night than with any of her other lovers. Perhaps she’d been too busy to experiment with her other partners. Who was she kidding? Her lovers had only been concerned about their own satisfaction.

  Not Mack. He’d taken his time ensuring she had the orgasms to beat all orgasms. He’d tweaked, teased and coaxed not one but multiple incredible releases. At one point, she thought she heard herself scream.

  Mack had been gentle at first, then increasingly demanding until she had abandoned all resistance and gone along with the big marine. Now, she lay in the dark, feeling like she’d come home, like there was no other place she’d rather be. And it scared the hell out of her.

  She had her career and Mack had his. The stress of traveling to new locations every week or every other week had taken their toll on her. Just last week, she’d been thumbing through pictures of cottages in quiet towns, mountain retreats, desert islands, thinking about taking a vacation, something she hadn’t done in a very long time. Perhaps that was all she needed. Slow down. Take some time off. Sleep in.

  But not with a man she could get used to having around much too easily. No. Mack Magnus was far too tempting. Deirdre could see her wanting more and more time with him. The few men she’d slept with left her feeling empty. One night in the sack and she was done, never wanted to see them again.

  That’s what had her scared about Mack. Sex with Mack left her wanting more. Even as she lay there, curled into him, her body heated. If she turned over and kissed him, it could only lead to one thing.

  More of Mack.

  Like an addiction, she fought her cravings and slid out from beneath his arm and off the bed. Deirdre gathered her clothing and dressed as quickly as possible, careful not to make a sound to disturb the sleeping giant. If he woke, he’d talk her into staying again and she’d find it impossible to resist.

  No use getting her knickers in a twist over a man who wouldn’t be around for longer than the wedding weekend. And she was due to fly out on Tuesday to the Caribbean island of Tortuga to shoot a swimsuit ad for a magazine. Mack would go one way, she’d go another and they’d likely never see each other again.

  Grabbing her purse, she clutched her shoes by the straps and draped her coat and scarf over her arm. Then she eased open the door to the room, glanced at Mack lying peacefully asleep and almost changed her mind. Before she could, she backed out of the room and closed the door softly behind her.

  She swung around and slammed into a large, burly man in a black suit with a mobile phone pressed to his ear, his knuckles black with crisscrossing tattoos, like those she’d seen on some of the Travelers in the lobby earlier that evening. The man dropped his phone and staggered backward with the force of the impact.

  Deirdre dropped everything in her hands to keep from falling flat on her face. The contents of her purse spilled out on the ground, her cell phone sliding across the floor.

  “Shite!” she muttered, bending to collect her things, shoving lipstick, mints, a comb and her phone into her purse. “Pardon me, sir.”

  The big man glared at her, bent to snatch his mobile phone from the ground and pushed past her, nearly knocking her off her feet again. Another man exited the room beside Mack’s and closed the door, his eyes widening when he saw Deirdre standing there.

  Smaller than the first man, but equally as intimidating, this one had a scar on his cheek from the corner of his eye to the corner of his lip. Even without the jagged scar, he made Deirdre shake. He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, his dark brows forming a V over the bridge of his nose.

  Embarrassed at her clumsiness and frightened by his attitude, she slipped her purse over her shoulder, grabbed her jacket and shoes and straightened, moving out of the way so the man could ease by. She hadn’t blocked the hallway so what the feck was the matter with him and the first jerk? When you practically bowl a lady over you apologize, whether it was your fault or not.

  For a moment, the man hesitated, his eyes black and narrowed. Something tented in the jacket pocket he’d slid his hand in, reminding Deirdre of the old movies with cops and robbers when the bad guy held a hidden gun. The ferocity of the man’s stare sent a cold shiver across Deirdre’s arms and she took an involuntary step backward, bumping into the wall. For a moment she was frozen, caught in the intensity of the man’s stare.

  The dark-eyed menace edged forward and said something in a language she didn’t understand.

  The big man’s glance shifted from the little guy to her, and he took a step toward her, his arms rising, reaching for her.

  Backing away, Deirdre’s breath caught and held. Shite! Shite! Shite! She had nowhere to run. The door to Mack’s room had locked behind her and she was trapped between the two men.

  “Deirdre?” Mack’s voice called out from the other side of the hotel room door.

  The big man glanced toward the sound and back to her. Then he ducked his head and hurried past her, the shorter man following close behind as the door to Mack’s room jerked open.

  Mack stood in his jeans, the zipper half done up, the top button hanging open. “Deirdre?” He stepped out into the hallway and pulled her into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, now that you’re here,” she said, melting into his embrace. A shiver shook her body and she snuggled closer. “Let’s go back inside.” As he led her into his room, Deirdre glanced over her shoulder.

  The scar-faced man who’d stared at her with such menace had disappeared.

  Once inside the room with the door firmly shut, Deirdre sagged against Mack, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  He hugged her close. “Why did you leave?”

  Funny how silly her fear of falling for Mack compared to the fear she’d experienced in the hallway with the two dark-haired men who’d come out of the room beside Mack’s. She laughed, shakily. “I was scared.”

  “Of me?” He rubbed her back, the soothing circles of his hand calming her.

  “No, of myself. I was afraid that the more I was with you, the more I’d get used to havin
g your around.”

  “I know what you mean.” He leaned his cheek against her temple. “We’re worlds apart in our careers and countries.” Mack leaned away from her, tipping her chin up with his finger. “But that doesn’t explain the fear in your eyes when I opened the door. You’re still shaking.”

  “I ran into two men in the hallway.”

  Mack stiffened. “Did they hurt you?”

  “No. I bumped into one. Other than dropping everything, it didn’t hurt.”

  “Did they say anything to you that frightened you?”

  “No.” Deirdre shook her head. “It was more a feeling.”

  “Well, next time you feel scared, you can tell me. And for whatever reason you want to leave, I’ll walk you to your room.” He kissed her forehead. “If you’d like me to walk you to your room right now, I will.”

  Deirdre leaned up on her toes and kissed his lips. “No. I want to stay here.”

  “You’re not scared of me or what’s happening between us?”

  “Not as scared as I was with the men the hallway.”

  Mack laughed. “Thanks, I think.”

  She took his hand. “Could we go back to bed?”

  He grinned. “You have to ask?” He lifted her fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss to the backs of her knuckles. “Come on. I don’t know about you, but I need sleep.” He led her to the bed, took her jacket from her and draped it over the back of a nearby chair.

  She lifted her arms and he dragged her dress up over her head, laying it neatly over the jacket.

  Deirdre shimmied out of her panties and slid onto the bed.

  Mack’s eyes flared as she lay across the sheets.

  Slowly, he shed his jeans and stood beside the bed, naked. “Sleep. That’s all we’re going to do, right? I’ve been up for thirty-six hours. I don’t think I have anything left in me.”

  Deirdre jerked her head to the side. “Get in the feckin’ bed. I promise not to attack you.”

  “Good.” He grinned as he lay on the mattress beside her. “I’m really tired.” His hand smoothed across her naked skin, his cock rising despite his protestations to the opposite.

  “Nothing left in ya, is it?” She stroked the length of him and he grew even thicker and longer. “Got any more of those condoms secreted away in your wallet?”

  “If not, I bet I have one in my shaving kit.”

  “Are you one of those American boy scouts and always prepared?”

  He held up two fingers. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Deirdre didn’t let Mack go back to sleep until the first light of dawn crept in through the window. He had a lot more in him than he let on, and she was determined to banish all the bad feelings she’d gotten from her unexpected encounter in the hallway.

  She finally fell asleep, wrapped in Mack’s arms, exhausted and more content than she cared to admit.

  As soon as her eyes closed, the dream began with a woman’s scream. Whether it was her own scream or another woman’s wasn’t important. Two men raced out of a hotel room, running straight for her. She tried to get out of the way, but they were coming too fast. When she moved her feet, it was as if they were glued to the floor. She fought to lift them, but she couldn’t.

  “Help!” she cried.

  Chapter Four

  Mack had been in a dead sleep when he heard Deirdre’s cry. He sat up straight, ready to take on the enemy only to find the enemy was in Deirdre’s dreams.

  He leaned over her, shaking her shoulder, pressing kisses to her cheek. “Deirdre, wake up.”

  “Help,” she sobbed, her fingers curling into his arms, digging in.

  Ignoring the pain, Mack shook her again. “Deirdre, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

  Her eyes flew open, wide and frightened. When she finally recognized him, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered, rubbing her back. The feel of her breasts pressed against his chest was more than he could take. His cock hardened instantly, but he fought his natural reaction to her beautiful body. She didn’t need him pawing on her when she was clearly upset. “It was just a dream.”

  “I know,” she said. “But it seemed so real.”

  “It’s morning. The sun is up and you’re safe with me.”

  “Thank you.” She stared up at him, her dark red hair falling over her cheek, shadowing her eyes.

  He brushed the strands out of her face. “Are you okay?”

  “I am now.” She smiled. “That dream seemed so real and no matter hard I tried, I couldn’t run.”

  “I’ve had dreams like that. Part of them are memories of skirmishes I was involved in. Sometimes they’re worse than what really happened. Other times, they’re dead on. Memories I’d just as soon forget.” He pressed his lips together, images of some of the worst battles rearing in his mind. Times he’d rather forget but were engraved into thoughts. Times when they’d been hit by enemy fire and he’d held one of his men in his arms as he bled out. The medic could do nothing to save him.

  Deirdre’s slim fingers curled around his cheek. “Your memories are far more frightening than mine. How can you live with them?”

  He shrugged. “I take each day one at a time. Some days are harder than others, but I figure I’m here for a reason. I’d better make good on that reason.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “What were you dreaming about?”

  “The men in the hallway last night.”

  “They’re gone now, and you’re safe with me.”

  Deirdre pressed her lips to his chest. “Thank you for letting me sleep here last night.”

  Mack laughed, shaking off the morose memories of days in battle. “You’re kidding, right? I should be thanking you.” His hand slid over her hip and upward to rest on the curve of her narrow waist. “For letting me hold such a beautiful, naked woman all night long.” God, he wanted her so badly it hurt. But if she wanted to make love, she’d have to come to him. He wouldn’t initiate it this time.

  Deirdre trailed her fingers down his chest and lower to where his cock jutted out hard and full. “Are you always so amorous in the morning?” she asked.

  “Not so much around a unit full of men.” As her hand wrapped around him, Mack sucked in a deep breath and held it.

  She glanced up, a wicked gleam in her blue eyes. “Then what are you waiting for?”

  “You to tell me you want more than a kiss good morning,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I want a lot more than a kiss good morning.” She moved her hand up and down his cock, the friction jerking him wide awake, all thoughts of sleep completely vanquished.

  “In that case…” he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, nudging her legs apart with his knee, “…good morning.” He captured her lips in a crushing kiss.

  When he came up for air, she smiled. “That’s more like it.”

  He stared into her eyes, barely able to believe his luck at having found her, but not willing to mess things up. “Don’t move.” He leaped from the bed and hurried for the bathroom where he kept his shaving kit. When he returned to the room with an accordion of condoms in his hand, she was lying on her side, touching her breasts.

  His breath caught and he nearly stumbled. “You’re beautiful.”

  She winked. “So I’ve been told.”

  Mack laughed. “Modest much?”

  “It comes from being a model. I can take it or leave it.”

  “How about this?” He slid into the bed with her. “You’re beautiful where it counts.” He tapped a finger to her chest. “Inside.”

  “Now, you’re getting warmer.” She took his hand and laid it across her breast.

  He cupped it, weighing it in his palm. “Perfect. Exactly the right size for a man to hold and taste.”

  “Show me.”

  He laughed, feeling lighter and more carefree than he had in a very long time. “Aren’t you afraid we’ll be late for the wedding?”

  “The wedding isn�
�t until noon and we have an hour before I have to be at the beauty shop with Fiona.”

  “Isn’t that cutting it close?”

  “Only if you keep talking and don’t get busy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He leaned over to snatch her scarf from the floor. “Let’s get things straight. I like giving the orders, and I might just keep you captive the whole day and skip the wedding altogether.” He wrapped the silk scarf around one of her wrists. “Are you game?”

  She bit her bottom lip, her eyes shining. “I’ll play along until I have to go.”

  “Until I let you leave.” He captured her other wrist and wound the scarf loosely around it and tied it to the bedpost, securing her wrists.

  Deirdre pouted. “How am I supposed to touch you?”

  “You don’t. I get to do with you as I please.”

  Her brows furrowed. “I’m not sure I trust you.”

  “Honey, when I’m finished, you won’t care.” He started at her forehead, kissing his way over her nose and to her mouth, where he spent time teasing her lips until she opened to him. He caressed her tongue with his in long, slow strokes.

  Then he moved lower, kissing a path along the line of her jaw, down the column of her throat to where the pulse beat hard beneath her skin.

  “Let me touch you,” she moaned, pulling against her bindings. “Please.”

  “In time,” he assured her, his hands cupping her breasts to plump them for his tasting. He flicked the tip of one, the nipple tightening into a hardened bead. He licked it then sucked it into his mouth.

  Deirdre arched her back, pressing the breast deeper. “Lower.”

  “Lower please?” he insisted.

  “Jazus, Mary and Joseph. Lower, pleeeease,” she moaned.

  Mack chuckled. “As you wish.” He released her breasts, his hands moving low over her flat belly, dipping into her belly button and downward to the juncture of her thighs.