by Amy Andrews
But she was so into it, it was hard not to get side tracked. Moaning into his mouth. Pushing one hand into his hair, twisting her head from side to side, keeping up with his unremitting pace. And she tasted so damn good. Like beer and lime, and Mack plundered deeper to savor it, dragging in a breath to fill his head up with the taste of her.
Josie let him in more, and as his finger moved deep inside her to the thrust of his tongue, she tilted her hips and rocked against his hand, granting him better access.
He eased his finger out, and she whimpered in protest, but when her slickness guided him toward the engorged nub he was seeking, and he circled it once, twice, three times, she cried out, breaking off the kiss.
Mack liked that her heels evened up their height. He liked that he could see the wildness in her eyes right now and the crushed satisfaction of her glistening lips.
“Please,” she gasped.
Their gazes locked. His held hers as he slid his finger inside her again. Her eyes widened, her breath hissed out. Her hand pumped slowly up and down the length of him, digging fiery fingers of lust into his buttocks, his belly, the backs of his thighs.
His chest heaved as he fought the urge to thrust into her palm. Hers heaved, too. He eased out of her again and took his finger for another lazy circle, and she arched her back on a strangled moan, her hand temporarily stilled.
Her breasts thrust toward him, and he looked his fill. The bra was incredibly sexy. White satin, black spots, black lace trim disappearing into her cleavage.
Cleavage that sat high and full, raised to him as if in divine permission. Mack salivated. He raised his eyes back to hers. She was biting her lip as his finger performed another slow revolution, but the agitated rise and fall of her chest could not be ignored any longer.
He raised his unoccupied hand, slid it onto one plump satin mound, and eased the cup aside. The breast spilled out, pushed high from the distortion of the fabric, but the nipple was unmistakably tight and engorged before him. He sucked in a breath, eased away the other side, the other nipple looking even harder.
Mack glanced at her again. Her head had dropped back against the door, and she was watching him through half closed lids. Her lips were parted, and she was panting lightly from the steady rhythm of his finger, her breasts lifting rhythmically in time. Her hair was all ruffled, looking as ravaged as the rest of her.
He’d never seen anything sexier in his life.
And then he was lowering his head and sucking a nipple deep into his mouth, and her guttural cry jolted through him, making him harder than he thought it possible to be. He switched to the other side, and she arched her back and muttered, “Yes…” clamping her hand on his nape, keeping him there, holding him good and hard, which was fine by Mack because he had no intention of going anywhere.
Everything outside their secluded spot ceased to exist—the alley, the thudding bass, the night—as he licked and sucked with his mouth and slid and circled and teased with his finger and soaked up her moans and her whimpers, uttering a few of his own as he bucked his hips to the maddening rhythm of her hand.
And then suddenly her leg was anchored around his waist, and she was pleading in his ear. “God, Mack…now. I need you in me…now. I’m so… I want you in me when I—”
She didn’t finish; she didn’t have to. The urgent rocking and circling of her hips, and the frantic way she was guiding his erection under her skirt, was enough. She was close, and he wanted to be there with her at the end.
He could no more have denied her than held back the tide.
And it was easy, so easy. Standing there with her, hip to hip, heart to heart, her leg clamped around his waist, pulling her underwear aside, feeling her slick heat against his straining flesh as he positioned himself, pushing up inside her, her gasp ringing loud in his ear like a crowded football stadium cheering him on, like a symphony reaching a crescendo, feeling her all hot and sweet and wet around him.
Josie holding him close. Moaning. Whispering, “Yes, yes, yes.” Begging him for more. To keep going. To go harder. To go faster. Building them both quickly with his thrusts, and the frantic rhythm of his hand still between them.
Then, suddenly, she gasped, bucked, went rigid in his arms. The rocking stopped, her cries abandoned as if they’d been cut off by a garrotte. He felt the clench of her around him, the liquid gush dragging his orgasm from him, paralyzing him also for a second or two.
She cried out, her head thrust back, and it echoed loudly around them like they were standing in a cave rather than an alley. That, and the muffled ringing of a phone, brought him out of the haze for a moment.
Temporarily.
But the pull in his groin dragged him back in, and he cut her off with a swift, harsh kiss, ignoring the ringing of the phone as he rocked and thrust and jerked, giving himself to her harder, faster, just like she asked.
With every rock of his hips she cried out against his mouth, and he kissed her deeper, swallowing the guttural sounds of her pleasure and giving her his own, his lips buzzing with the combined suppression. And, somehow, it seemed as if they’d bottled it up and pushed it down, spreading it to other parts of their bodies, intensifying the sensations, prolonging their pleasure.
Because the pleasure didn’t seem to stop. It went on and on, waning slightly before sparking and surging and gripping them in its intensity once more.
And he rode it. And rode it. Rocking her back. Rocking her up. Rocking her higher. And he didn’t stop until they were both spent. Both utterly wrung out.
Still buried inside her, Mack slumped against her when it was finally over, his forehead in the curve of her neck. Little flares of pleasure still popped behind his eyelids.
His breathing was labored, keeping perfect tune with the bass he was suddenly aware of again. Long moments followed. Neither of them moved; they just stood there, recovering. Catching their breath. Settling their pulse. Mentally readjusting everything they thought they knew about each other.
“Well,” Mack mumbled when he’d finally regained enough breath to talk, “I guess you can cross public fornication off your list.”
Chapter Six
Josie glanced nervously at Mack as she climbed up into his high, rugged work truck. He’d been silent for the five minutes it had taken to get to his vehicle, and she didn’t like it.
She hoped that it was because he was just as stunned as she was at the unexpected way this night had ended. But now that the rush had worn off, she figured it was more likely guilt and recriminations.
Only, she didn’t feel them.
And she didn’t want him to, either.
Sure, this morning she’d been mad as hell at him. And tonight she’d been in the mood to teach him a thing or two. She just hadn’t imagined it’d end like this. This morning, Mack being her rebound sex would have been too preposterous, too outrageous, to actually consider.
Not Mack. Her lovely Mack.
Good-guy, Mack. Nice Mack. Who she’d known forever. Who could calm a frightened animal, comfort a grieving pet owner, and hold his sister together through sheer force of will alone when everything was going to hell.
But he had hidden depths.
Clearly, he could also be bad.
And, as stunning as it had been, she was never going to regret what happened in that alley.
Her insides performed a pirouette, and something deep and carnal pulsed inside her.
But he was frowning. Her worse fear was confirmed when he stared out the windscreen for long seconds and then turned to face her, his eyes serious, his jaw tense, a frown knitting his brows together. “I’m sorry.”
Josie sighed. She knew it. “Mack…don’t—”
“No,” he shook his head vehemently. “Don’t make any excuse for me, for what just happened now… I lost my temper with you. I took it too far.”
Josie thought he’d taken it just far enough. “It’s fine, Mack.”
“No. It’s not.”
Josie folded her arms. “I was
a willing partner, remember?”
If anything, his face got even grimmer. He looked as if he was remembering it in minute detail. “Okay, no, you know what?” He started the engine. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What? Never?” she asked as he pulled out into traffic.
“No. Just not now. Not here. In the truck. With you looking like…that.”
“Like what?”
He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered.
“Like what, Mack?” she insisted.
She understood that he’d acted out of character, and it had thrown him. That they’d acted out of character. They’d had sex in an alley. It was a lot for him to process—hell, for both of them to process. But she wasn’t going to feel ashamed of what they did.
Curtis with all his sexual hang-ups would definitely have disapproved, but she refused to let him influence how she viewed herself anymore.
“Like I’ve just been fucked against a nightclub door in a dark alley?”
He glared at her before returning his attention to the road. “It was wrong of me to…come on so strong like that.”
“Why? Tell me what’s so wrong about what two consenting adults got up to just now?”
He didn’t answer her. His grim face stared determinedly ahead, and his lips pressed together. Josie turned to stare out the window. A nighttime palate of neon colors passed unseeingly before her eyes as her thoughts whizzed around her head a million miles a minute.
“We’re not just two consenting adults, and you know it,” he finally said. “We’ve been friends for fifteen years. You’re my sister’s best friend.”
It wasn’t an ideal situation. But surely they’d been friends too long for some random hot alley-sex to come between them?
“You regret it,” she said, looking out at the passing night. The observation seemed loud in the cab, crowding out the rattle of the diesel engine and the weight of silent recriminations. A well of disappointment rose in her chest. She didn’t want to head his dumb-things-I-did list.
She faced him, saw his knuckles whiten around the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything. “Well?”
His jaw clenched. “First kisses shouldn’t be like that.”
Josie blinked. What the hell? It had been a long time since she’d been kissed so thoroughly. So masterfully.
So…absolutely.
His kisses had blown her mind.
“Who says?” she asked incredulously.
“I do,” he snapped.
Josie frowned at his vehement response. “What should they be like?”
He braked at a red traffic light. “Soft,” he half-yelled, half-growled turning to face her. “And sweet, okay? They should be…slow. They should…build. They should be exquisite and full of ache and want and…anticipation.”
Josie caught her breath at his rather detailed description. It stoked embers in her belly. Caused an extra little beat of her heart. His hands flexed against the steering wheel as he gripped it tight, and she wondered absently if his knuckles would actually burst through his skin if he kept it up.
“They shouldn’t be so…” He looked away, his grip tightening again.
“So?” she demanded.
“So…dirty.”
Josie inhaled, long and deep. She’d like the dirty version, but now, she had a hankering for the slow version. “You’ve obviously given this a lot of thought,” she said, speaking to his strong profile.
“Yes.”
“They shouldn’t be dirty?”
He shook his head. “No. Not with you, anyway. Definitely not with you.”
Ah. They were back to that. “So, you’ve thought about how I should be kissed then?”
He glanced at her, startled. “What?” His brow furrowed. “No.”
“So, you haven’t thought about it?”
Mack dropped his forehead on the steering wheel, and she thought she heard him mutter, “Oh, for the love of God.” He sat up and looked at her. “I don’t go around thinking about kissing my sister’s best friend. Who I’ve known forever.”
Josie crossed her arms. Did she need any further evidence about how much her life needed a readjustment? Why didn’t men think about kissing when they looked at her? They sure as hell did when they looked at Sal.
A horn honked from behind, and Mack sat back and put the truck in motion. More moments passed in silence as Josie turned back to the window. She felt like she was going to pop with the clash of thoughts and feelings inside of her all screaming to get out.
“I wanted it, too,” she said into the quiet.
She hated how he was usurping her free will in his guilt trip.
His sigh was heavy. “I smell like horse. And worse than that, I acted like one.”
“Like a horse’s arse, do you mean?” she asked with acid sweetness.
Obviously not in the mood for sarcasm, he shot her an impatient glare. “Like an animal,” he clarified. “Like I was rutting.”
Something inside Josie’s brain slid into place as Mack’s familiar scent finally clicked. No wonder he’d smelled so damn virile. There was something earthy and powerful about the aroma of a large beast, and her nostrils flared reflexively. She could still smell it on him now. Except, there was the scent of their sex, too. Filling up her senses.
But that didn’t stop her being furious.
“I know you think I’m not sexually adventurous but, trust me, I’m not going to break. Curtis did that,” she said. “He treated me like some expensive piece of china. He shoved me on some high exalted shelf and touched me like I was going to break, and I don’t need it from you. I’m a grown woman. I can handle having my brains banged out in an alley, and you’ve known me for long enough to know I’m not fragile.”
He nodded, his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead. “I know that. I know you’re tough. I know you needed to be tough growing up with a mother that wasn’t good at coping emotionally. And I’m sorry about the things I implied this morning. I really am.”
Josie shrugged off his apology. “Thank you.” It was nice to hear, but she’d already proven him wrong, no matter how unexpected.
Actions spoke louder than words.
“And for your information, you smell incredible. Very virile. It really turned me on.”
He swallowed, and there was a strangled quality to his, “Okay” like the thought was maybe a little bit titillating.
Josie smiled. “I liked your down and dirty horsey kisses,” she murmured.
He shook his head, like he was coming out of a fog, and cursed under his breath. “God, we didn’t even use a condom. I always use a condom.”
Crap. He was right. Not their smartest move. “If you’re concerned, don’t be. I’ve had one partner in five years, and I’m on the pill.”
He nodded, but she could tell that Mack was still kicking himself for losing control.
“It’s okay. Please don’t torture yourself over this. It was a freakish one-off. I’m moving to the other side of the planet in two weeks. It was fun. Spontaneous. It was exactly what I needed to kick start the new me.”
Josie sensed that Mack still wasn’t okay with what had transpired between them, or at least the way it had transpired, but it was good to see the blood supply return to his knuckles.
“We probably shouldn’t tell Sal about this,” he said.
“Are you crazy? Of course, I’m not going to tell, Sal. She’s been foaming at the mouth about Cynthia for months now.” Cynthia and Sal had been really close for the two years she’d been with Mack. But no one was a fiercer protector of Mack than Sal, and Cynthia had not been forgiven for her treachery. “I pity the vigilance the poor girl who comes next is going to be subjected to, and I do not want that to be me.”
He chuckled, and Josie almost sagged in relief. She didn’t realize how tense she’d been until everything released like the snap of a rubber band. It had been a very strange, very unexpected night. One that
she’d never forget, that she’d hug to herself for as long as she had a functioning memory.
But the look on his face as he’d started the truck nagged at her. She didn’t want him to lose any sleep over this. Life was too short for that.
“Just tell me you don’t regret it,” she said. His fingers tensed again, and Josie sighed. “Mack.”
“I don’t.”
He said it quickly, too quickly. And the white was back at his knuckles. “You sure?”
“I don’t,” he said as he turned off the main road and headed into the quiet streets of the suburb. “I regret how it happened…that I was angry…that I acted like a cave man. But I don’t regret that we did it. I think we both needed it.”
“Well,” she said, her voice teasing. “Six months is a long time to go without. No wonder it went on and on and on.”
He chuckled, and his hands relaxed again. “Hey, I’ll have you know that’s all skill.”
Sweet relief flooded through her as she laughed, too. They were laughing in that comfortable way they always had. They were going to be all right. “You’re an expert, huh?”
“Don’t see you complaining.”
Josie blushed at the reminder. “No complaints here.”
He glanced at her then and smiled, and their eyes met briefly. For a second, she was back in the alley with his hardness inside her and his heat all around her, and she could tell he remembered, too, and her breath roughened. And then he was looking away, and she turned back to the window, and the moment passed.
It was only natural, she supposed, that there would be moments of awkwardness. A shared memory or two that would beat with a carnal pulse between them. Hell, she was going to need some alone time just to wrap her head around the fact that she’d had an intense sexual experience with the closest thing to a male friend she had. With her best friend’s brother.
With Mack.
But, for now, it just felt good to not have any tension, any weirdness between them.
“I’m sure as hell never going to think of you as carrots again,” he said.
Josie laughed. “Well, it was definitely worth it, in that case.”
He laughed, too, but it was short lived as his fingers gripped the wheel hard again. “Are we going to be able to act normally, though, that is the question?” he asked. “Around Sal?”
