Part 22 (1/2)
”I don't sleep with my clients,” he said flatly.
”But you do...that?” She waved vaguely at the porch, baffled.
”No.” He practically growled it. He was staring past her at the gathering ma.s.s of clouds, and his eyes were just as stormy.
”But you did,” she protested. ”With me.”
”You're not like most of my clients.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. ”You're not like most women I've met lately.”
Oh. Well. ”I'm going to take that as a compliment,” she told him, covering the final few inches between them with one step and laying her hand on his forearm. His skin was hot, the rough hair dark and bristly. ”I don't know what happened last night, but I liked it. I...”
Her heart was in her throat as she looked into his eyes, which had gone dark and hungry. She wanted him so much-not just his body, but him, the man he was and the man he was hiding. And she wanted to tell him that, wanted to say the words aloud, but all she could feel was his heartbeat, drumming in time with her own, and his soft release of breath as he bent his head to kiss her.
And then the sky opened with a magnificent clap of thunder, lightning streaking the sky with blue light. The rain pelted down, stinging her bare arms, and without warning Leo grabbed her and pulled her into the shed.
The door banged shut behind them, and for a moment they stood facing each other, silent and panting, shaking off the rain. Just as Leo reached for her, lightning crackled outside in a crazy flare, and she found herself wrapped in his arms, his mouth hot and urgent on hers.
G.o.d, he tasted so good-dark and strange, all man. The rough stubble on his chin and jaw rasped against her skin, and the st.u.r.dy denim of his jeans brushed her thighs, and she loved it-this was real, this was right now, Leo's solid body the only thing anchoring her to the moment.
He stumbled backward, taking her with him, and dropped onto a wooden crate. Tugging her between his spread thighs, he hooked his fingers into the hem of her s.h.i.+rt and stripped it off.
She s.h.i.+vered, still damp, but hot beneath the skin. So hot-she wanted his mouth on her, everywhere, wet and demanding. ”Leo,” she murmured, without any idea what she meant to say.
”Right here,” he murmured back, and then he unhooked her bra with a sharp click and tossed the delicate sc.r.a.p of silk to the floor.
Bare to him from the waist up, she had never felt more desirable. His eyes swallowed her up, and his hands were possessive when they stroked over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. ”Gorgeous,” he said, and then he was tasting her, his tongue just as wet and urgent as she'd imagined.
She groaned as his mouth fastened around one tight, aching nipple, his tongue pus.h.i.+ng against its underside as he suckled. It was almost too much-the sensation rippled outward like a stone in a pond, until she felt its echo in her belly and between her legs.
He kept suckling, but his hands were busy. Before she knew it, he was sliding her shorts and panties over her hips, pus.h.i.+ng two fingers between her legs. She whimpered as they thrust inside her, filling her, stroking her, coaxing the flame higher, hotter.
But she wanted so much more. Struggling free of his hands, she reached blindly for his jeans. The air in the shed was too close, humid and stale, and the floor was gritty beneath her bare feet. It was dark, too, with the rain drumming on the flimsy roof, but she didn't need to see to unbuckle his belt.
It was his turn to groan when she'd fumbled it open and tugged down his zipper-she reached inside and curled her fingers around his erection. Smooth and hot, gloriously hard, it rose to her touch when she ran her thumb over the velvet head.
When she climbed into his lap, straddling his rigid thighs, she could have sworn he growled.
She reached between them for his c.o.c.k, but he was already there, stroking through her folds, spreading the creamy wetness, his free arm wrapped around her waist.
Now.Please, now. She raised up to take him in, and Leo muttered, ”d.a.m.n. Can we? I don't have-”
”I'm on the pill,” she bit out, and slid onto his c.o.c.k, taking him deep.
He growled again, thrusting up into her, the whole breathtaking length of him. They set the pace together, hard, fast, deep, her arms around his neck, his hands on her a.s.s.
Nothing mattered, nothing but the feel of him inside her-not the rain or the shed or the conversation they hadn't really gotten around to, not his secrets or her growing suspicion that her ”type” might be exactly like Leo. No other man had made her feel what he did, inside and out.
And right now she felt deliciously full and so incredibly alive, every part of her awake to his touch.
He pulled her closer as he drove inside, thrusting home again and again. She groaned. The pleasure was coiling tight now, drawing in on itself, but it was going to burst, soon now, so soon...
His lips fastened on her throat, and he licked the damp skin before drawing it between his teeth in a startling, possessive bite. She came in a dazzling starburst, a surprised gasp of pleasure escaping her lips. It went on and on, that widening ripple, sharp and bright and endless.
And Leo followed with a gruff shout, arms tightening around her as he spilled, his body shuddering with release.
She leaned her forehead against his, still panting.
”Bet this isn't what you had in mind for this shed,” he said, his voice still rough.
She laughed, and settled against his chest to lay her head on his shoulder. He was like a furnace, hot all over, and his arms around her felt like the only thing holding her up. ”Right now,” she whispered, ”I can't think of a better use for it.”
So much for keeping his distance, Leo thought a few hours later, in Mackenzie's bed. She was asleep beside him, sprawled facedown in the tangled sheets, her hair a dark, glossy fan on her bare back.
He lifted a strand of it, rubbing it between his fingers, remembering the way it whispered against his face as she arched over him.
He'd stripped off his T-s.h.i.+rt and wrapped her in it before sprinting through the rain and inside, and once there they'd only blinked at each other in amazement before winding up in her bedroom. He couldn't get enough of the feel of her against him, the little incoherent sounds of pleasure she made when he touched her, the complete lack of inhibition in her response.
Mackenzie had a wild thing inside her. And experiencing it only made him want more.
Despite the fact that he'd gone and done exactly what he'd said he wasn't going to do. Last night had been torture, at least when it came to walking away before taking his pleasure-walking away from her now, after this afternoon, would be impossible.
But he couldn't ignore the knot of uneasiness in his gut. If Mackenzie had met him a few years ago, there was every chance that she not only wouldn't have been interested in him, she would have been appalled. And she would have been right to be. The man he'd been in those days wasn't anyone a woman like Mackenzie would want in her home, even as a carpenter, much less in her bed.
Mackenzie was forthright, responsible, focused. And, yeah, she was kind of a strange dresser, and he really didn't understand the snow globe collection, but the woman, at her core? She was good where it counted, and she was beautiful.
She was also curious. And that was a problem all on its own, at least for him.
She s.h.i.+fted in her sleep, turning over, and then stretched and opened her eyes. ”Hi, there,” she murmured, blinking. ”So...that wasn't all a very lovely dream, huh?”
”Not a dream,” he said, sliding down to scoop her up against him, burying his nose in her hair. ”Not by a long shot.”
”Well, that's good.” Her words were m.u.f.fled against his chest. ”Because I've never been able to rerun a dream.”
He laughed, and she untangled herself to look up at him. G.o.d, her eyes were so gorgeous. It was more than the rich dark brown color, it was what he could see in them-pleasure and drowsiness and surprise.
”Are you hungry?” she said suddenly, sitting up, heedless of the sheet. ”Because I'm starving all of a sudden. Apparently, you give me an appet.i.te.”
”You give me an appet.i.te, too,” he whispered, and leaned forward to circle one soft, flushed nipple with his tongue.
”Someone will find us eventually, I suppose,” she murmured, closing her eyes as he teased the nipple to life. ”Starved, near death, but incredibly satisfied.”
”I guess I could let you eat if you promise to let me bring you back to bed later,” he said, pulling himself away from her body with effort. The taste of her skin was the only thing he could focus on at the moment-that, and the awful knowledge that he was digging himself in deeper with every word, every kiss.
He hadn't been this drawn to a woman in years. And he certainly hadn't been this reckless, either.
You have a job to finish, he told himself. As if that were the real reason he wasn't hightailing it out of her house right now, truck tires screeching on the pavement as he gunned down the street.