by Lori Foster
Mack’s eyes had narrowed, but his tone remained calm. “He sounds like a real winner.”
“That’s just it. Everyone thought so. He was the life of the party, a real charming guy. People met him and they naturally liked him. Especially the women. I always came across as a terrible nag. His relatives complained about how I had dragged him down, because he was saddled with a wife and a kid, and they said that was why he’d failed college, because he had too many responsibilities.”
Mack touched her cheek. “I can only imagine how that made you feel.”
“It wasn’t fun, I can tell you that.”
“Not for you, but it sounds like he did all right.”
Jessica pulled her knees up, making sure her long skirt covered her legs. She crossed her arms over them and rested the side of her face there. She didn’t want to look at Mack. She didn’t want to see his pity at the stupid girl she’d been. “He did better than all right. He ended up with a nothing part-time job that left him plenty of free time to run around. I worked full time at a restaurant, and my parents watched Trista for me. Dave had a lot of friends, and they all thought I was a bitch if I suggested he should skip hanging out. Then one day Trista got sick and I needed him to get medicine. I called the house where he was supposed to be playing cards with his buddies, but when a woman answered, I could tell it was a huge party. I went to get the medicine myself, and on the way home I stopped by there.”
Mack scooted around to sit behind her. He pulled her back to his chest, closed his arms tightly around her, and kissed her temple. “He was cheating on you.”
It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t bother to answer. “Here I was, still wearing my stained, wrinkled waitress uniform, Trista beside me. I looked horrible from working all day, and Trista had a runny nose and red eyes. But Dave looked great. He was laughing and having a good time. When the woman on his lap looked up, I didn’t want to admit to being his wife. They all stared at me, and I could tell they felt sorry for Dave. They thought he’d gotten a bum deal with me. I just turned around and walked out.”
She could feel the tension coming off Mack, only this time it was anger. She twisted around to see him, but the minute she was turned, he kissed her. His mouth opened on hers, and his tongue stroked her lips, making her gasp. He seemed almost desperate, his hands in her hair, holding her close, devouring her. His urgency alarmed her a bit, overwhelming her. His hands stroked everywhere, down her back to her bottom, over her stomach and up to her breast, and then his fingers found her stiffened nipple, making her shudder and gasp. A thick, low groan erupted from his throat and she felt him tremble.
All her reservations vanished. She wanted him, and there would never be a better time than now.
Mack cursed roughly when Jessica suddenly relaxed, her arms wrapping around his neck, her breast pressing into his palm. “Jesus. I feel like I’m going to explode.”
“Mack…” Her small, cool hand touched his jaw, bringing his mouth back to hers. He couldn’t think of anything he’d ever wanted as much as he wanted her right now. He understood her so much better after all she’d told him, and he wanted—needed—to prove to her that he was different. He wanted to stake a claim. He kissed her, long and deep.
Then he pulled away, struggling for control. “Sweetheart, we need to slow down. I’m sorry. It’s just that…damn, I’m jealous.”
Her slumberous eyes opened to stare at him. Her pupils were dilated, making her eyes look nearly black. She looked dazed and aroused and beautiful, so damn beautiful.
“I don’t understand.”
How could he tell her everything he felt? Her ex was an idiot, but Mack was glad, because if he hadn’t screwed up, Jessica might still be married, when Mack knew in his bones she belonged with him. Even now she clung to him, her breath hot, her body quivering with need. And he’d barely touched her. The thought made him frantic with lust.
Easing her down slowly, he laid her on the quilt. Her chest rose and fell, and she opened her arms to him.
“Shhh. Let’s get these clothes off you. I’m all but naked, and you’re bundled up from head to toe.”
He reached for her sweater, and she turned her head away. Mack stilled. “Jessica?”
Her eyes squeezed tightly closed. He wanted her so bad, his body burned, but damned if he would do anything to make her uncomfortable. “Tell me what’s wrong, honey.”
He saw her slender white throat tense as she swallowed, saw her hands fist. “You’re used to beautiful women.”
He stroked her shoulder, keeping the touch feather light. “And you think you’re not?”
“I’m…I’m thirty years old, not twenty with long legs and no hips. I’ve had a baby and…”
“And because you’re a mother, you can’t be sexy anymore?”
“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it!”
He stroked her cheek, smoothed back her hair. “I’m sorry, babe, but you’re being silly. I think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known. Do you think I walk around with an erection for every woman on the street?”
She made a sound that was a cross between a groan and a laugh. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“Well, you’d be wrong.” He reached for the hem of her skirt and slowly began dragging it up her legs. She stiffened, but she didn’t say anything. Mack stared at her shapely legs and tried not to be affected. He wanted his tone to remain calm, not rough with lust. But it wasn’t easy. She wore some kind of elastic-topped nylons that ended just above her knees and left her pale thighs bare. The elastic was decorated with small cream-colored roses. His breath rasped unevenly as he touched her knee, urging her legs to part just a bit. “Did you buy these stockings from Sophie?”
Her eyes popped open. “What?”
“She told me you shop in her boutique, that that’s where she met you. Did you get them there?”
“Yes.”
Things were starting to come together, the goofy way Sophie and Allison had acted. The reason he’d been picked to model. It was a setup—and he owed them both more than he’d realized.
The bright photography lights were still aimed at them, illuminating the square of quilt and the two people stretched out atop it. Mack smiled. “I can see you, all of you, very well. I like this.”
His fingers trailed above the stockings, moving the skirt higher and higher, until the pale sheen of her silky beige panties reflected the light. The material looked damp between her legs, and he groaned. Without even thinking of her reaction, he bent and pressed a heated kiss there.
She nearly leapt off the floor. “Mack!”
He nuzzled closer. “Damn, you smell good.” In a rush, he sat up and unbuttoned the skirt, then tugged it down her legs. “I think I’ll leave the stockings. They turn me on.”
She panted, staring at him in mingled embarrassment and need. He laid a hand over her belly. It wasn’t concave, sinking between her hipbones, but it was soft and silky and…“How could you think this isn’t sexy? Do you have any idea how you feel to me?” He closed his eyes, stroking her, relishing the touch of her warm, satiny skin, then slid his fingers into her panties and tangled them in her feminine curls. Her hips lifted, and he pulled away.
Straddling her upper thighs, he cupped her face and smiled. “I feel like a teenager again, having to pace myself so I can last long enough to get inside you. God, woman, you affect me. Forget any other man you’ve known. Right now there’s just me. Okay?”
She looked him over, then whispered, “Will you take off your shirt so I can see you again?”
“Hell, yes. And then yours.” He pulled the undershirt over his head and tossed it aside. Her hands were immediately there, caressing his shoulders, touching his small nipples to make him shudder. He gave her time to look, to touch him, and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he jerked her sweater up. He was awkward and trembling and laughed even as he cursed. Jessica lifted her arms so he could pull it free, then rested back on the floor. She watched him anxious
ly, her soft brown eyes wide and uncertain, her breath held.
The bra she wore was incredible, beige satin to match the panties, but with a lace overlay, looking sexy as sin and making his heart race. He could just see the dark shadows of her erect nipples beneath the sheer fabric. He locked his jaw, fighting for control, and with one finger he circled a nipple and watched her shiver. He looked up and met her eyes. “I want to take you in my mouth. I want to lick you and suck on you.”
Her body arched as she moaned.
“Can we take off the rest of our clothes now, babe?” His voice was a rasp, a bare echo of sound.
For an answer, she sat up so he could reach the back closure on the bra. His hands shook as he expertly slipped the bra open, then slowly slid the straps off her shoulders. Her breasts were so full and white, resting softly against her body. He’d never considered himself a breast man, at least not in any sort of preference and not when he loved everything about women’s bodies, but with Jessica…The sight of her made his insides twist with need.
He cupped both breasts in his palms, closed his eyes as he felt her, and whispered, “You thought you didn’t compare to other women?”
“I…I breast-fed. And it shows. I’m not as firm as I used to be. Dave used to tell me—”
“Forget Dave.” He looked and saw a few faint lines on her breasts and imagined her swollen with milk, mothering her child. “God.”
He smoothed the lines with his thumbs, then bent and took one nipple into the heat of his mouth. Jessica moaned, and her fingers tangled in his hair. He switched to the other nipple, sucking strongly, making her cry out. She tried to pull away, but he held her securely, greedy, lifting her breast high, continuing to lick and suck until he knew he had to stop or he’d come.
She collapsed back against the quilt, panting, her body warm and rosy, her nipples drawn tight, wet from his mouth.
She gasped at the look in his eyes, then blurted out, “Dave never wanted me much after Trista was born. I had picked up weight, and my body looked different. He said that’s why he started going to other women…”
“What a goddamn fool.” Heat clouded the edges of his vision and he knew he was near the end. “I’m not him, sweetheart. I didn’t break your heart, and I never will. You’re beautiful, all of you, in so many ways. I can’t imagine ever not wanting you.”
“Oh, Mack.”
He could see the small quivers in her body, the way her lush breasts shimmered with each ragged breath. “Be right back.”
Never taking his eyes from her, he stood and then back-stepped to the curtain where he’d left his jeans, blindly reached for them, and came back to her. With the jeans bunched in his fist, he pressed her legs apart and knelt between them. She looked almost pagan lying on the quilt with the bright lights flooding down on her. Her skin appeared translucent, her breasts swollen and rosy, her thighs open. He hadn’t known for certain what love was, but now he knew this had to be it, because seeing her total acceptance of him meant more than he’d ever known was possible.
His heart slowed with the realization that despite all her efforts to fend him off, despite her resistance, he’d fallen head over heels, and he liked it. The Winston curse be damned. He felt blessed. After locating a condom in his wallet, he tossed the jeans aside. He laid the condom nearby, knowing he was near the edge of his control.
He touched her chin, down her chest to circle both breasts, pushing them together, gently rasping his beard-rough cheeks against her. He tickled his fingertips down her belly and watched her squirm, then stopped at the edge of her panties.
“I’m sorry, Jessica,” he said, forcing the words out around the constriction in his heart, “but I can’t wait much longer. Usually I’m pretty good at this, but now…”
She choked on a laugh. “Pretty good at what?”
“Waiting. Making the anticipation build. But you make me burn.” He dropped the jeans and hooked both hands in the waistband of her panties, then bent to kiss her belly as he slowly tugged them to her knees. Her laughter turned to a ragged moan. “Lift your hips.”
She did, but rather than just removing her panties, he slipped both hands beneath her buttocks, raising her, and tasted her again, this time without the barrier of cloth. Jessica twisted on the quilt, making incoherent sounds of pleasure. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugged.
“Easy,” he whispered, then kissed her again, using his tongue to stroke deep. “Damn, you’re so wet. You want me, don’t you, Jessica?”
Her body bowed, her head thrown back. He could feel the fine quivers running through her, but he wanted to hear her say it, wanted her to admit that what was happening was special. He blew softly against her heated flesh, ruffled the curls with his fingertips. Slowly, watching her face, he worked one long finger into her. Her thighs tensed and her buttocks flexed.
“Tell me, honey. Tell me you want me.”
“Mack. Yes.”
His finger pressed deeper, and he was shocked at how tight she felt, proof of her long abstinence. She sobbed, straining toward him. He kissed her sweet female flesh, drowning in her scent, and demanded, “Tell me this is special for you too, babe.”
“Yes, Mack, please…”
He broke. He couldn’t wait another minute, and for the first time in his life, he resented the time it took to use the condom. Jessica shook beneath him, squirming, needing him. As he came over her, she gripped his shoulders so tightly her nails stung, then she strained up against him, trying to hurry him along. Mack entered her with one long, even stroke. They both groaned, but Jessica didn’t give him a chance to wait any longer, locking her thighs around him and holding him tight. He began moving into her with a hard rhythm, loving the feel of her lush breasts against his chest, her hot breath fanning his throat. She accepted him, wanted him, and the knowledge drove him over the edge. As he gave a stifled groan of release, he felt her internal muscles clamp tight around his erection, intensifying his pleasure and assuring him she’d found her own climax.
He sank into her, sated, awash in burgeoning emotions, and then he heard her soft sob.
Jessica tried to cover her face, but Mack wouldn’t let her. She’d barely made a sound, and she’d assumed he’d be too far into his own pleasure to hear her anyway. But now he was over her, his expression alert, his hands holding hers so he could search her face.
His brows drawn in concern, he asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Mack, I want you to go now.” He had to leave before she totally fell apart. God, she’d been so stupid. She’d thought she could make love with him, enjoy him for a time, then get back to her staid, responsible existence. She knew now that that was impossible, and she felt the sharp bite of panic. How could she ever go back to her old ways after having been with him, after knowing what it could be like?
She’d felt so alive while he loved her, so mindless with pleasure, she knew she’d been existing in a void. All she’d managed to do was show herself what she’d missed.
Mack’s frown grew ferocious. “Like hell! I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.”
But she couldn’t tell him. That would be like the final indignity, proof of how desperately pathetic she’d become. She shook her head and pleaded, “Please. You need to leave now. Trista will be home soon—”
“Not for at least another two hours. And we haven’t finished the shoot.” He smoothed her hair in that gentle way he had, making her heart ache. “Did I hurt you?”
Appalled that he could even think such a thing, she shook her head. Her voice was choked, strained, but she said, “It was wonderful. You were wonderful.”
With a slight smile, he pulled her braid loose from behind her and played with it. “I love how you feel, the warm silk of your hair, the texture of your skin.” His big hand cupped her breast, stroking it possessively. His gaze locked on hers, too intent, too compelling. “Everything about you excites me. You smell too good to describe, and you taste even better.”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t be—”
“Ridiculous?” Slowly, he pulled the tie from her hair and dragged his fingers over it, untwining her braid. “I know what you’re going to say. That we don’t know each other well enough. That nonsense about you being older than me.” He laughed. “Do you realize how much influence your ex had on you? He convinced you somehow that you’re old and worn out, but when men look at you, they see a young, very sexy woman. Not a housewife. Not a mother. A woman.”
“How would you know what other men think?”
“I’m male.” He drew a deep breath. “I dreamed about you even after we were out of college. It was like I knew something very important had slipped through my fingers. We hadn’t talked a lot, but I’d studied you every chance I got. I knew you were serious and withdrawn and shy and a little wounded. I knew you were so sexy you made my teeth ache, and I saw how all the other guys looked at you. It made me nuts. I knew even then you were the woman I wanted.”
Tears gathered in her eyes despite her resolve. She didn’t know what to say, except to be honest. “I did the same.”
“Yeah?” He looked pleased, then leaned closer to whisper, “Did you ever touch yourself…you know, while you were thinking of me?”
Her face went hot, her breath catching. “What kind of question is that?”
He shrugged, looking mischievous. “I did, thinking about you. I wanted you so damn bad, no other woman even interested me. I won’t lie to you and tell you I stayed celibate, as you did, but my sexual encounters were few and far between. And I haven’t been with anyone for almost six months. I was so disgusted over this teaching business that I haven’t been able to think of much else. I guess that’s why my meddling family set us up.”
