Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(63)

But she moved. His hands slid down to her hips, his fingers grasping to slow her down.

“Easy.”

“Need. To. Move.” Her head tipped back, her expression total bliss. Her breasts thrust forward. Mac reached up and cupped one, his thumb stroking her nipple.

On one hand, he was dying to make this last as long as possible. On the other, the thought that he’d driven her senseless almost ended the moment. His senses sharpened, and his heartbeat echoed from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Every molecule in his body was tuned, as if his nervous system was cranked into overdrive.

She moved faster. Pleasure spiraled though him. He wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over. Tugging her legs up around his waist, he took control. Slow, even, long thrusts that made him forget they were two bodies instead of one.

Her body bowed, her back arched, and all of her muscles went taut. Mac felt her pulse around him. He held out as long as he could, drawing out her orgasm, experiencing every second of bliss.

When he finally let go, the release made him lightheaded. He collapsed on top of her, chest heaving, heart aching. He was sure he’d never experienced anything like making love to Stella. She fit him in every way, like a lock to a key, and being inside her was like being home.

Her fingers toyed with his hair.

“Why did we wait so long to do that?” she asked.

“I have no idea.” With great regret, he slid from her body and levered up on one of his elbows. He liked the way she felt underneath him, all soft, smooth skin. He ran a hand along her hip. Her body was fit and athletic, with enough flesh under his hand that he didn’t feel like he would break her if things got energetic. Which they had. He kissed her mouth. Slow and deep, as if he wanted to make love to her again. Which he did.

All dark eyes and disheveled hair, she cupped his jaw. “I wish this moment could last forever.”

“Me, too.” He nibbled his way to her neck. “The best I can do is make it last a while longer.”

They both knew in the morning they’d have to face reality. But for the next few hours, the real world could wait.

“I’ll take every minute I can get.” How did her hand get down there?

“I like it that you’re greedy.” He got up to deal with the condom and find another. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

She fluffed her pillow and got comfortable. “I’ll be here.”

But for how long?

Mac had spent his entire adult life running from personal responsibility. Fleeing connections. Running from his emotions. Now, for the first time, he wanted something to be permanent.

The ache in his chest was an acute reminder that his growing attachment to Stella made him vulnerable. If he let himself fall for her, it would be like stepping off a cliff. There’d be no going back.

She appeared in the mirror behind him. “Do you think you should check your stitches? I’d feel awful if I hurt you.”

He turned and kissed her. “I was careful. The wound is fine.”

Tonight, it was his heart at risk.





Chapter Twenty-Six


Thunder boomed. Stella opened her eyes. She oriented herself as she recognized Mac’s bedroom in the dark. Erotic images played in her mind.

What a night.

Lightning flashed, illuminating Mac sprawled next to her. The room had been warm—and so had their bodies—when they’d finally fallen asleep. The sheet draped across his waist, leaving his torso bare. Her gaze roamed the lean muscle of his arms and chest. She thought about following her eyes with her hands, but it wasn’t even light yet. Why should they both be awake?

Rain burst from the sky and drummed on the roof. Leaves rustled as the wind whipped at the trees. Cool, moist air blew through the open windows, a welcome chill. Another clap of thunder boomed, closer this time. The loud crack brought back the memory of her nightmare. Gunshots and an endless stream of blood. In her dreams, it flowed until it formed a slick, red lake in the grass.

Nausea welled. Moving away from Mac so as not to disturb him, she curled into a ball.

But he stirred, rolling toward her. His hand settled on her hip. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a bad dream.” She balled up tighter.

He stroked a hand down her back, as soothing as the patter of rain.

“Shouldn’t you close the windows?”

He shook his head, scooting closer and pulling her to him until his body spooned hers. “The roof was designed to protect the windows. The rain won’t get in.”

The wind blew the cool scent of wet pine and earth into the room. Stella shivered, and Mac drew the sheet up over her shoulders.

He pressed his lips to her temple. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She sighed, wiggling her butt closer. She loved the feel of his body pressed against hers. He was solid and real and warm. “Just a nightmare.”

“Do you have them often?”

Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “They started back in November.”

“After the shooting?”

“Yes.” She rolled onto her back, flung an arm over her head, and stared up at the ceiling. “They’d been fading, slowly, over the months, but seeing two dead bodies this week seems to have brought them back.”

He stroked the underside of her arm. Last night, he’d found places on her body she hadn’t known were erogenous. Or was it his touch, pretty much anywhere, that stirred desire until it simmered in her veins, thick and hot and as sweet as syrup?