Protecting What's Mine(38)
“I’ll write ’em down for you. Maybe draw some illustrations.”
Her watch vibrated against his shoulder. “I should go,” she said.
“Got a hot date?”
“It’s my get ready for bed alert. I’m trying to be healthy and make good choices, remember?”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he offered.
“Why? Does the crime rate skyrocket in the parking lot after dark?” she teased.
“You’d be surprised.”
They paid their bill and said goodbye to Sophie before heading outside.
“Feel free to be overcome with gratitude,” he said, opening her car door for her.
“If I swoon, I have ammonia inhalants in my med bag,” she said with a slow smile designed to devastate.
Linc wasn’t one to back down from a challenge or a guaranteed disaster. “I really want to kiss you right now, Mackenzie.”
She cocked her head, considering. “You’re just going to keep chipping away at my defenses until there’s nothing left but rubble, aren’t you?”
He boxed her in with his arms, careful not to touch her.
“That’s the plan.”
He watched her make the decision and reveled in it when she slowly, deliberately slid her arms around his neck. “It’s working,” she said on a sigh before pressing her lips to his. She tasted of wine and hot sauce and lust.
His hands tightened on the door frame, still not touching her anywhere but that wild and wonderful mouth.
She wasn’t delicate or dainty. She didn’t need to be coaxed. No, Mackenzie dove into the kiss like jumping off a cliff. With an aggressive surrender that drove him mad.
And she gave him permission for more when she sagged against him, when she pressed that long, lean body against his. Then and only then did he finally let himself touch her.
That mouth, sharp and sarcastic, worked its magic against his as she tasted him and let him savor her. Her teeth scraped over his bottom lip, and the world went black.
A surprise. The continual surprise of Dr. Mackenzie O’Neil.
His hands fit her waist, her hips, her back. Seeking out new curves with the intent to memorize. Crushing her to him, he heard and felt the sexy vibration of a whimper when she sidled up to his erection.
“Oh, boy. Okay.” She slid her hands between them and pressed lightly against his chest. Enough to stop, not enough to part.
Her lips were swollen and rosy. Her hair that he didn’t remember shoving his hand into was a disheveled tangle. Those high cheekbones wore the faint blush of excitement. And her eyes danced with arousal.
No regrets.
“That’s going to give me a lot to think about,” she said, pushing him back a millimeter.
He could still taste her on his lips.
“The offer still stands, Dreamy.” He reached down and clasped her hand. Those green eyes, so serious now, watched as he lifted it to his mouth.
“No strings? No expectations? No complications?” she asked.
“No-expectations, monogamous fun,” he said.
She gave him a nod and slid behind the wheel. “Why not platonic fun?”
“Honey, I think that kiss already answered that question.”
She looked ahead through the windshield. “I’ll think about your offer.”
So would he. He shut the door for her and tapped the roof with a hand that seconds before had coasted over her body.
Mack drove off, leaving him watching her go.
“This is gonna get complicated,” he sighed to himself.
18
Mack let herself in the back door of the clinic. She’d slept like crap last night. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Linc’s mouth on hers and then spent the next several minutes fantasizing about having it everywhere else.
She’d snap out of it, long enough to carefully weigh every pro and con of letting him get past first base. Then, as soon as her eyes closed again, the delicious cycle started fresh.
She hoped to God the man had at least suffered through a cold shower.
“Good morning, Dr. O’Neil,” Russell, wearing a violet Oxford shirt and eggplant tie under his white coat, greeted her at the front desk. His cognac-colored loafers gleamed under the sharp pleat of his trousers.
He nudged a to-go cup in her direction. “Green tea with lemon.”
Tuesday and Freida exchanged smug looks. The friendly balance of the office had been restored.
“Thank you. Good morning,” she said, accepting the cup. “How was everyone’s night?”
Small talk. See? She could do this. She could push aside dirty, naked thoughts about a sexy firefighter. She could dust off social skills.
“I hit up a cycling class and then grabbed smoothies with my brother so he could tell me about his new boyfriend that he met at the gym. Then my boyfriend and I had a nice, quiet night in,” Tuesday said perkily.
Mack felt relatively certain that “quiet night in” was the girl’s code for Netflix and chill.
“My husband did the laundry. That beautiful, beautiful man,” Freida said dreamily and shot them all spirit fingers.
Okay. So Tuesday and Freida got laid. Fine. People in relationships had sex.
“My wife surprised me by coming home early for a long weekend,” Russell said. His tone was light, friendly even, but Mack saw the residual gleam of tasteful, polished, married sex in his brown eyes.