Baddest Bad Boys(58)

He watched her cross the room toward him, two glasses of ice water in her hands. He was impressed with how casual she was being naked. He was impressed by how uninhibited she was making love.

He was impressed. Period.

The million-dollar question was, where the hell did he take it from here?

7
Tommi handed Mac his water and sat down beside him. “That was a first, you know,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“A double orgasm. That’s never happened to me before.” She turned her dreamy blue eyes full on him. “You knew exactly when to…”

He drank some water. For some damned reason, his neck was hot.

“I’ve embarrassed you.”

“You always so talkative after sex?”

“When I have orgasms like that, I am.” She tilted her head, looked amused. “I guess I figured inquiring minds would like to know.” She paused, frowned. “I’d forgotten how shy you were.”

He laughed. Shy, he wasn’t. There was just something about Tommi. “That was a long time ago. I was a kid.” He set his water glass down and pulled her over to sit between his legs, her back to his chest. Jesus, the second her ass collided with his cock, he sprouted like a goddamn magic beanstalk. It was his turn to smile. Maybe he was still a kid, when it came to Tommi. “Speaking as a man, I’m delighted to hear about your double orgasm—and envious as hell.”

She smiled at that and settled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. His brain damn near melted when the scents of sex and shampoo wafted up his nose. He covered her breasts with his hands, and kissed her hair. Roses, her shampoo smelled like roses. He started to play with her nipples and she sighed, snuggled back into him. A sigh was good. A moan was better. He slipped his hand between her legs, played inside her cleft. In seconds he had his moan.

“I gave you a rose once, did you know that?” he whispered against her ear. Where in hell had that come from? Wherever it was, he wanted to shove it back.

She covered his hand with hers, held it still, and turned to look at him, her misty eyes going sharp. “I don’t remember.”

Hell! “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Tell me.”

When she got to her knees and turned to face him, it was his turn to sigh. Damn big mouth. “I was fourteen, maybe fifteen.” He stopped, twisted his lips. “You came for dinner. It was your birthday. You were leaving the next day.”

“When I was nineteen! I remember. It was the day before I moved to Seattle. It was kind of a good-bye for me and…Hugh.”

“Right.” A good-bye that brought Hugh to his knees. That night he’d seen his brother cry. He’d never forgotten it.

“But I don’t remember a rose,” she said, prodding him to continue.

“It was red. I sneaked in before dinner and left it on your plate.” Jesus, his neck was heating up again. What the hell was wrong with him?

She stared at him. Blinked. “That was from you? How—”

“For God’s sake, don’t say sweet.”

“It was sweet.”

He rolled his eyes. “How sweet could it have been? You tossed it in the bathroom trash can.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“I cleaned up the trash.”

She started to say something, then covered her mouth.

“You’re laughing.”

“I’m trying not to, but we’re—”

“Fighting over a fifteen-year-old rose,” he finished, his own lips turning up in spite of himself.

“I shouldn’t have thrown it out.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He drew her back into his arms, oddly lighthearted. “What you should have done was kiss me stupid, so I’d have had something to remember you by. That’s what I was angling for.”

She shifted in his arms, enough to take his face in her hands. “How about I kiss you stupid right now?”

“Sounds good to me.”

But she didn’t—she hesitated instead, held him away from her. “That night? Saying good-bye to Hugh? It was bad, Mac.”

“He followed you to Seattle.”

“Yes. It took him some time to, uh, take no for an answer. But in the end he did, and now I value his friendship more than any other in my life.”

“You strung him along for years, Tommi. I watched you.” God, watch you was all I did.

She chewed her lower lip. “Yes, I did. I was vain and selfish. I strung lots of boys along. It was stupid. I was stupid.” She touched his chest, ran her fingers through the hair. “I made mistakes. A long line of them.”

He clasped her hand in his, watched her eyes. “And this—us—is it another mistake?”

Tommi trembled, the intensity in Mac’s eyes cool and unnerving. She wondered what answer he wanted, but she opted for the truth. She leaned and brushed her lips across his. “So far, it doesn’t feel like one.” She kissed him then, and murmured into his ear. “What feels like a mistake is you not being inside me.”

In seconds she was under him, looking into amused eyes. “Now, that is a mistake I’m happy to rectify.”

Tommi opened for him, and he entered her, slick and easy.