by Myla Jackson
Her breathing grew more ragged the lower he went.
Trailing kisses along the path his hands took, he paused at the mound of red curls. “Are you ready? Or do you need more convincing?”
She lifted her head, her eyes glazed with passion. “Ready! I’m ready. Oh please, ride me for feck’s sake,” she begged. Bringing her knees up, she dug her heels into the bed and lifted her hips, urging him closer.
When his fingers threaded through her curls to part her folds, she dropped her knees to the side, exposing her entrance, glistening with her juices.
Mack fought his growing desire, holding back to completely pleasure her before taking what he so desperately wanted. He wanted her so ready she’d shout his name.
He touched her clit, dragging his finger along its short length.
Deirdre bucked, her body twisting in the sheets. “Again. Please,” she cried.
Sliding his body down hers, he settled between her knees, lifting her legs to drape over his shoulders. Then he cupped her bottom and spread her folds with his thumbs. “Prepare to come undone,” he whispered, blowing a soft stream of air over her wet center.
“I already am,” she cried.
“You only think you are” Already so hard he hurt, Mack’s cock twitched, ready to thrust deep inside her. He held out. This was Deirdre’s moment.
He touched his tongue to her entrance, tasting her musk, then he replaced his tongue with a finger, pushing it in as he swept upward to tongue the nerve-packed nubbin of her desire.
“Sweet Jazus!” Deirdre cried.
Mack tongued her again then laved her in long broad strokes.
Her hips rocked with each stroke until her body grew rigid and she stopped all movement. “Oh, sweet mother, if I die now, so be it,” she whispered. Then the first waves of her release rippled across her body.
Mack didn’t let up, still tonguing her until she tossed her head back and forth. “Stop, oh, stop. I can’t take more. It’s too much.”
Unable to wait another moment, Mack slipped Deirdre’s legs off his shoulders and grabbed for a little foil packet. He tore it open and rolled the condom over his engorged, throbbing dick, and then he drove into Deirdre.
She dug her heels into the mattress, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Already so tense with passion, it wasn’t long before Mack burst over the edge and came, the moment so earth-shattering he could barely breathe. For several minutes, he remained buried inside her. Finally, he reached for the silk scarf and untied her wrists, then he collapsed on the bed, rolling her to her side to maintain their intimate connection.
Deirdre breathed like a runner who’d been sprinting. When she could talk again, she said, “Well done.”
Mack burst out laughing, pulling her into his arms to hold her tight. He could get used to holding Deirdre. She fit him perfectly.
Deirdre hugged him, reveling in how good it felt to be held in such a strong man’s embrace. She could get used to being with this big American marine.
“Nightmare gone?” he asked, his breath warm against her hair.
“What nightmare?” she said. It was true. The nightmare had long faded with Mack’s determined assault on her senses.
Then he smacked her bare bottom with the palm of his hand, the sound greater than the actual sting. The little bit of pain sending shards of desire through her. “You need to get going. My brother’s bride needs her cousin’s assistance to prepare for a wedding.”
She moaned and snuggled closer. “I’d rather stay here.”
His arms tightened around her. “I’d rather we both stayed here.”
Deirdre sighed and leaned back. “Alas, duty calls.” She kissed his lips and rolled out of the bed before she gave in to her desire to stay in bed all day with Mack.
Mack leaned up on an elbow, his long, lean and magnificently muscled body on full display. “Save a dance for me.”
“Okay,” she said. And why not? A few short hours ago, she’d been running out of the room, determined to put distance between him and her. Now she couldn’t wait to see him again and she hadn’t even left his presence. What was wrong with her? She didn’t have time in her life for a relationship. But then this wasn’t a relationship. This was a weekend fling.
She gathered her clothes for the third time, regret tugging at her.
Turning her back to get him out of her sight, she lifted her wrinkled dress over her head.
Large hands cupped her breasts from behind. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist copping one last feel.” He squeezed her breasts and then slid his hands down her torso to the triangle of hair over her mons. Mack stroked her clit and dipped a finger into her damp channel still wet from making love with him.
Caught with her dress raised over her head, she could do nothing to stop him. Nor did she want to.
As quickly as he started, he stepped back, grabbed the hem of the dress and pulled it down over her head and shoulders, his knuckles skimming her skin, sending delightful tingles all over her body. Her pussy clenched. When the dress covered her hips, she turned in his arms. “You’re making it very difficult for me to leave.”
“That was the idea.”
“But I have to go.”
“I know. And now, hopefully, you’ll want to come back.”
“I’m making no promises.” She tapped the tip of her finger to his lips. “You’re a dangerous addiction I might not be able to overcome.”
“Good.” He kissed her finger, brushed it aside and kissed her on the lips. “Go before I take you back to bed.”
After slipping into her shoes, she straightened. “I’ll see you on the other side of the groom.” She winked and turned away to grip the doorknob.
When she hesitated, Mack pushed her hand aside. “Let me check the hallway first.”
“You can’t open the door naked.”
He grinned. “Sure I can. Watch.” He yanked open the door. A large woman in a short dress that barely covered her ass or her breasts was passing by in the hallway. She stopped in front of the door. Her gaze swept his length and then shifted to Deirdre. “When you’re done with him, I’ll take some of that.” Her finger pointed to his cock. With a wink, she walked away.
Deirdre giggled. “Served you right.”
Mack stared after the woman. “I don’t know. She was kind of hot with all that makeup.”
Even though Mack’s voice and glance was teasing, Deirdre couldn’t help the little stab of jealousy that shot through her. She backhanded him in his bare abdomen as she slid past him and out into the hallway. “She can have you on Monday.”
He snagged her arm and pulled her up against his naked chest. “Does that mean you’re mine for the weekend?”
A thrill of anticipation made her shiver. She forced herself to shrug. “Maybe.”
He tipped her chin with his finger. “Maybe, hell. You’ll be back.” He kissed her, turned her around and slapped her ass. “Now, go. Or the bride will be frantic.”
Deirdre hurried down the hallway toward the lift, glancing back as she stepped in. Mack still stood in the doorway, as naked as the day he was born. The door to the lift almost closed before she pulled herself together enough to bring her face inside. Even after the doors closed, the naked marine’s image was seared into her mind. She fanned herself as the car headed up to her floor.
She hurried to her room, took a quick shower, dressed in tailored trousers, a wool blazer and comfortable shoes. Then she slipped her jacket on and headed for Fiona’s room.
She knocked once and the door was flung open.
Fiona stood there, her hair wet and tangled, wearing a camisole and panties and nothing else. “Thank God you’re here.” She grabbed Deirdre’s arm and yanked her into the room. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for the past hour. First, I got a strange man, then nothing. Did you turn off your cell phone?”
“No, I didn’t hear it ring.” She set her purse, scarf and jacket on a chair and gripped Fiona’s arms. “I’m here now. What’
s wrong?”
“Nothing. Oh, everything!” Fiona flung her hands in the air and spun away. She paced to the head of the bed and back. “It’s my wedding day and I can’t think straight. What am I supposed to wear? Where am I supposed to go first? I’m an event planner, for heaven’s sake. I should know all of this!”
Deirdre laughed. “You’re going to be just fine. Let good ol’ Deirdre help.” She walked to the closet and selected a pair of jeans and a white button-up blouse. “Put these on. You don’t have to be gorgeous until you’re wearing your wedding dress. First stop is the hairdresser’s.”
Fiona hugged Deirdre as she held the clothes. “Thank you for being here for me.”
A twinge of guilt pulled at Deirdre. She’d been ready to tell Fiona to fend for herself as she gave in to her own lusty desire to stay in bed with Mack. She hugged her cousin and pushed the clothes into her arms. “Get dressed. We have to be at the shop in ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes!” Fiona flung her arms in the air again and the clothes flew to the sides. “Holy hell.” She bent to gather them. “I’ve never been so nervous in my life.”
“You know you can change your mind about marrying Wyatt all the way up to the altar.”
With her jeans halfway up her legs, she stopped and stared at Deirdre. “Change my mind? Are you crazy? Wyatt’s everything I could have ever dreamed of in a husband.”
“Then why are you so nervous?”
“If I don’t get to him first, some other woman might snatch him up.” She flung her hands in the air again and almost tripped over her jeans. “Until I get a ring on his finger, he’s still up for grabs. Have you seen him? He’s gorgeous!”
Deirdre laughed and steadied her cousin. “Oh Fiona, you have nothing to worry about.” At the same time she said it, she envisioned Mack. All the Magnus brothers were well-built and so ruggedly handsome a woman would have to be blind not to appreciate them. Especially Mack. She shook herself out of her musings to add, “I’ve seen the way Wyatt looks at you. He loves you.”
Fiona’s eyes welled with unshed tears. “You think so? Really?”
Deirdre held Fiona’s hands and nodded. “Absolutely. The man is head over heels.” Even as she said the words, she wondered how it would feel to have Mack look at her that way. She squeezed Fiona’s fingers and nodded toward her jeans. “Now hurry. You want to look your best. This is supposed to be the most important day of your life.”
“You’re right.” She yanked her jeans up over her hips and jammed her arms into the white blouse. “I’m getting married.” Her eyes welled.
“Oh for Pete’s sake, don’t cry, you’ll make your eyes red and puffy.” Deirdre grabbed a tissue from a box in the bathroom and shoved it into Fiona’s hands. While her cousin dabbed at her eyes, Deirdre buttoned her shirt. “Now slip on your shoes and jacket and let’s go.”
They were ten minutes late to the hair and makeup appointment, but the stylists were ready and waiting. They should have been, Deirdre knew them personally and had paid them plenty to be there. When they were through at the stylists’ shop, Deirdre had a hired car waiting to collect them out front and ferry them to the church a good hour and a half before the wedding was due to begin.
A pretty, black-haired young woman waited in the antechamber that had been designated for the bride and her bridesmaids to dress for the wedding.
The young woman planted her fists on her hips. “I’m so glad you two finally arrived. I thought I was going to have to inform the guests there was to be no wedding. Then I was going to go hunting for the woman who broke my brother’s heart. And I’m a damned good shot.” She stuck out her hand. “Hello, I’m Abby Magnus, I presume one of you is Fiona?”
Fiona’s eyes softened and she gripped the woman’s hand. “You’re Abby?” She pulled the woman into a big hug. “You look like your brothers.”
“God, I hope not.” Abby laughed, light dancing in her eyes.
“You’re much smaller, but you have the same black hair and blue eyes.”
“We got that from our mother. She was beautiful.” Abby stepped back. “I brought my dress and it won’t take long to get into it. What do you need help with?”
The women went about dressing the bride in her form-fitting white gown that hugged her body to perfection. Abby adorned her neck with a single strand of pearls, while Deirdre helped her slip the pale green garter up her leg.
Abby and Deirdre dressed in simple, sage-green gowns and matching ballet slippers.
With only a few minutes to spare before the ceremony, Abby hurried around the room, lifting plastic bags, clothes and purses. Finally she straightened, a worried frown on her face. “Fiona, where’s your veil?”
Fiona smiled. “I chose not to wear a veil.” She reached into a box and pulled out a delicate wreath of miniature pale pink rosebuds and the soft green bells of Ireland threaded through the band. When she positioned it on her long auburn curls, the effect was magical, making her appear as light and whimsical as a mystical fairy.
Deirdre’s eyes washed with tears. “Fiona, you’re lovely.” Then she hugged her cousin so tightly Fiona protested.
“Careful, sweetie, I’ll need my breath to make it down the aisle.” Fiona turned to the mirror for the first time since she’d come into the antechamber. Her eyes widened and a gasp left her lips. “Wow, is that me?”
“Yes, indeed, it ’tis,” Deirdre said stepping up behind her.
Abby claimed the other side and smiled into the mirror. “You make a beautiful bride. As long as you don’t break my brother’s heart, I couldn’t be happier for you two.”
Deirdre laughed. “Are all Magnus siblings this protective of each other?”
“Damn right,” Abby answered, crossing her arms. The petite young woman looked no less intimidating for her short stature.
Fiona raised her hand. “I swear I won’t break Wyatt’s heart. He’s my hero. I can’t imagine being with any other man.”
“Good, then let’s go to a wedding.” Abby held out her arm.
Fiona hooked her arm with the younger Magnus sibling and one with Deirdre. “Ladies, get me to the church on time.”
“Uh, Fiona darlin’, you’re in the church,” Deirdre said, her expression deadpan.
The three women laughed out loud.
A light knock on the door and a head poked through.
Deirdre’s heart skipped several beats when she recognized Mack.
“Everyone ready?”
“We’re ready,” Abby replied.
His gaze captured Deirdre’s and he winked, setting her heart to racing. “See you in a few.”
Deirdre touched a hand to her chest, reminding herself to breathe. The man shouldn’t have that big of an effect on her.
When she dragged her gaze away from the door Mack had disappeared through, she caught Fiona and Abby staring at her.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on between you and my brother Mack?” Abby asked.
Heat rose in Deirdre’s cheeks. “Nothing.”
“Sure you don’t have anything to tell us?” Fiona asked.
“Nope. Nothing.” That was Deirdre’s story and she was sticking to it.
Abby left the room first to clear the way for Fiona.
Deirdre tidied their things, tucking her purse beneath her jacket. At that exact moment, her cell phone rang.
Her pulse leaped. Could it be Mack calling her to tell her he couldn’t wait to see her at the end of the aisle? She yanked her purse out from beneath her jacket and rifled through it until her hand curled around her phone. She hit the key to talk. “Hello,” she said, her voice breathy.
For a long moment the caller held the line but didn’t say anything. If not for the sound of heavy breathing, Deirdre would have thought it was a dropped call.
“Who is this?” she asked.
No one answered. Something clicked and the call ended.
Disappointed, she shoved the phone back into her purse and hid it beneath her coat. Then she
ran to catch up to bride.
Chapter Five
Abby led the way down the aisle first. Followed by Deirdre and Fiona.
At the end of the rows of pews stood all four of the Magnus brothers, each of them dark-haired, blue-eyed and handsome as the devil himself.
Deirdre’s heart fluttered and a storm of butterflies battered their wings inside her belly. She felt as though she was the one marching down the aisle to meet her true love to exchange vows. Her footsteps faltered. Then her gaze sought out Mack’s and locked with his.
Her feet grew more sure, and soon she was mounting the steps to the dais, standing on the opposite side of the groom from Mack.
While all others stared at Fiona coming down the aisle, Mack’s gaze remained on Deirdre’s until Fiona stepped up beside Wyatt and passed Deirdre her bouquet.
The trance broken¸ Deirdre reminded herself whose marriage they were there to attend. She should not be having fanciful wedding ideas about Mack. It could never be. They’d only just met one another. One day and one night in bed did not make a binding relationship.
Deirdre tried to focus on the priest and the words he spoke, but all too soon, her gaze was drawn back to Mack like a bee to honey. And, damn the man, he was looking across at her.
Determined to keep her mind on the wedding at hand, Deirdre turned in time to note the priest had come to the vows.
Wyatt took Fiona’s hands in his and they both spoke loud and clearly enough for all to hear.
“We swear by love and peace to stand,
Heart to heart and hand in hand.
O Spirit, hear us now,
Confirming this, our sacred vow.”
Fiona turned to Deirdre.
Deirdre handed her the simple platinum wedding band engraved with their wedding date on the inside.
Fiona slipped the band on Wyatt’s left ring finger. “With this ring, I promise to love you and honor you above all others. I promise to be patient and forgiving and to always have a sense of humor. And you know how hard that can be for me.” Her voice caught on a sob, but she continued, “Most of all, I promise to be a true and loyal friend to you always. My heart is yours.”
