Protecting What's Mine(54)

Heavy lids lowered over those eyes as her focus locked on to his mouth. He wondered if she knew she was nodding. Taking his time, he slid his hands all the way up her sides, to her shoulders, that delicate neck, and cupped her face.

Romance was not dead. It was a living, breathing thing in the room.

He paused in his approach. A breath away from those red, red lips. Her breathing was ragged, and he noticed his was, too. They stood that way, breathing the same air. Feeling the pulse of desire as it awakened like a dragon between them.

She broke first. And he thanked the gods in the heavens when those lips crashed into his. She kissed him like she needed it, needed him, to survive. There was no gentle brush, no savoring. This was a devouring. She pivoted and slammed him against the wall. One hand shot into his hair and tugged hard. She shoved her other hand under his shirt and touched his bare, sweaty skin.

His hard-on was in danger of rupturing when she shimmied up against him. Vision going gray, he spun them again so her back was to the wall. For a moment, they each grappled for the upper hand, then decided it didn’t matter since they were both ravaging the other.

He slid a big hand under her shirt and cupped one, perfect breast.

Obligingly, she yanked her tank over her head and threw it over his shoulder.

“God bless America,” he breathed before diving back into the kiss.

She snickered into his mouth. “Is that the swoony firefighter version of dirty talk?”

“Baby, I want to take my cock out and shove you to your knees. I want to put my hands on this wall and fuck your mouth until your eyes water. When I’m done with you, I want eye makeup and lipstick everywhere.”

Her eyes widened. Then she smiled. A sharp, shark-like grin.

“That’s better,” she whispered and shoved her hand into his shorts.

He was going to die on his feet with a beautiful woman gripping his cock. Linc hoped they’d put that on his tombstone.

“For the love of God, woman, slow down.”

“Nope.” She brushed her thumb over the unfairly sensitive head of his dick that was leaking like a fucking sieve. “I want to see you on your knees, looking up at me while you taste me.”

Yep. Dead.

“I think I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.” His confession on a groan, a breath, a prayer ruined everything.

Just like that, the fearless flight physician lost her nerve. He felt her stiffen up, muscles going to concrete. Spine tensing to steel.

Her hand released him, the waistband of his shorts snapping back in an insult to his erection. He winced but didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, trying to wriggle out of his arms. “I just don’t feel like doing this right now.”

“You’re afraid.” He stated the truth, simply and without malice.

She reacted as if he’d struck her. A button pushed.

Mack’s lip curled in a sneer. But he saw it. That glimmer of fear in those green eyes. The shadows accentuated the scar.

“I am not afraid.”

She enunciated each word crisply. And he wondered if she thought that would make it true.

“We’re both attracted to each other. Both unattached. Both interested. But something’s holding you back, and I think that something is fear.”

“You start spewing things like that, and it’s a real mood killer, Hotshot.”

He could feel the connection they had, their bodies pressed against each other, heartbeats racing. He wasn’t misreading signs, making things up. She wanted him. He craved her. But that black smoke made an impenetrable wall between them.

“What’s wrong with being honest, Dreamy?”

“Back off, Hotshot,” she said, shoving a hand between them.

Understanding fear, he gave her space. He took a seat on the weight bench she’d vacated. He wasn’t running from this.

“Talk to me, Mackenzie. Tell me what this is about.”

“What do you want to hear?” she demanded, picking her shirt up off the floor.

He mourned the loss of her streamlined raspberry sports bra. That view of the stomach he wanted to lick, to bite, to jet his release on, to lay his head on.

“I thought I’d made that clear. I want you.”

“In what capacity? A quick fuck? A long-term girlfriend? Because I’m neither of those things.” Her words were sharp, hard.

“Tell me what you want, Mackenzie.”

“I asked you first.”

Fine. Truth. “First, I want to see that lipstick smeared on your mouth, my mouth, my cock, and any damn where else you want to kiss me. Nothing’s off-limits for you, Dreamy. Then I want to feel you come around me. I want to be holding you when you let go. I want to go off with you. After that, I want to eat ice cream in bed with you. Then I figured we’d date for enough time to convince you that fate brought you here exactly when we both needed it. We’ll have a wedding. Probably a big one because the whole station is gonna want to be there and you’ve seen the size of my family. Sunshine can be our flower dog. We’ll live a long, happy life together. How do you feel about kids? I wouldn’t mind a couple. But I’d rather have you.”

She sagged against the wall, blew out a swift breath. “I’m only here for six months,” she argued.

“That’s your plan. Plans can change.”