Luscious(8)

His whole body went on alert. His cock tightened immediately and his body felt like it locked around hers. All he could see or smell or taste was Ally. She became the freaking center of his universe and all he’d done was brush his lips against hers.

He was in too deep, but there was no way he was backing away now.



* * * *



It was wrong. She knew it the minute she got close to him. Hell, she knew it the minute Chef Taggart had walked out the door, leaving her alone with the single sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. Macon made her heart pound, but he was also the one man in the world she shouldn’t touch since she was lying to him.

The instant she’d seen him, she’d changed all her plans. It was wrong, but it was also true.

Kiss him. Kiss him once and you’ll find out it isn’t as good as you think it will be. Sex isn’t really all that special. It’s not like you haven’t tried it before. It’s kind of messy and then it’s over. It would probably be the same with this guy.

Or it will be so much better because this is a man and not a boy and damn, but he looks like he could take care of business, if you know what I mean.

Her inner voice had a split personality and an overabundance of sauciness it seemed. Still, she was kind of going with optimism as Macon’s gorgeous face dropped down.

His lips were soft as they brushed against hers. He didn’t overwhelm her the way some men had tried before. He went slow, as though enjoying exploring her. His hands moved from her shoulders to her back, running the length of her spine and making her shiver. Her chest bumped against his. She could feel the way her nipples pebbled, and her whole body seemed to go soft.

All her previous sexual experience had been about obliterating something. Whether it be herself or some bad day or horrifically bad news. It had been about escaping.

She didn’t want to escape this.

She breathed him in. He smelled liked lemons and mangoes and an underlying hint of sweetness. His hands were so big and callused, but they moved gently against her skin.

And then it was gone.

“Did you hear that?” He looked toward the doors.

She’d heard the pounding of her heart. She’d kind of ignored everything else.

In the distance, she could hear the sound of a siren going off. “I think that’s the warning system. Don’t panic. They cover a lot of space. We need to find an interior room and wait it out. The bathroom is best. There aren’t any windows there.”

“I’m going to go grab the radio. There’s a hand crank radio we keep in the kitchen. It’s also a flashlight and we might need that. It’s a good sign that the lights aren’t out.”

She nodded. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”

He put two hands on her arms. “No. Go get in the bathroom. Get your head down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He disappeared into the kitchen. She stood there, listening to the sound of the rain beating on the roof. He was right. They would need the radio so they would know when all was clear. At least it was late. No one would be on the streets at this time of night. Damn Mother Nature. She had terrible timing.

The phone at the hostess station rang. Despite the fact that it was so late, she decided to answer rather than let it go to voicemail. It could be Sean having car trouble. “This is Top.”

The voice came over the line in fits and starts. Deena. “… okay?... heard… coming… Top.”

“What?” She strained to hear her. Deena would be calling from her cell. It looked like the weather was hurting her signal.

“Worried…”

The line went dead and so did the lights. They didn’t even flicker. There was a loud popping sound and then everything went dark.

She stood still for a moment, trying to orient herself. They’d drawn the shades so only the barest hint of what light was left outside filtered in. She was utterly in the dark. Her heart was pounding for a different reason now. Fear sparked through her. Her instinct was to burrow down in the bathroom. It was back and to her left. All she had to do was walk about three feet in a straight line and she would find the back wall. Once she could touch it, she would follow it back to the bathrooms. Simple. She would be safe there.

There was a loud crash and then it sounded like the world was being battered.

The windows. At least one of them had shattered. Her eyes were adjusting and she could see a couple of big balls that had gotten through the shades. They looked like baseballs, but she knew what they were. Hail. She heard another crash, this one to her right. The kitchen.

She didn’t think, simply reacted. She ran to her right. Something was wrong. Macon knew exactly where the radio and flashlights were. He should have been back here. He wouldn’t have left her alone. She’d known him for a few weeks and he was a man who tried to take care of the people around him. She’d found it annoying at first. She’d had to let him walk her to her car at night, which meant trying to hide the fact that she was living in it. At first she’d enjoyed the nights Macon had off, but she’d quickly come to appreciate the feeling of being watched over by him. Sure, he did it for all the women, but she’d pretended it was only for her.

She hit the double doors to the kitchen at a jog. She could sort of see.

Something crunched underneath her. More glass. The back window had gone.

“Macon?” Nothing. “Macon!”

Lightning flashed and she saw him. He was on the floor, the flashlight next to him. Her hands started to shake as she made her way to him. Something dark was on his face. Please don’t let it be blood. Please don’t let it be. He was so close to the prep station. It looked like he’d slipped and hit his head.

The world suddenly went eerily quiet.

Even as she hit her knees, she knew things hadn’t gotten better. They’d gotten infinitely more dangerous. Quiet was bad. Quiet meant the monster had found her.

“Macon? Please get up. We have to go. It’s almost here.” Panic threatened. She reached for his hand. It was warm in hers and when she tried to find his pulse, it was strong under her fingertip. His heart was beating.

The street kid inside her told her to run, to hide, to protect herself. She’d spent those first years of her life in survival mode. She’d not known anything else until she’d been taken in by her mom and Ronnie. It would be easy to slip back into it. Hell, she’d been in it since her mother died. The child she’d been had taken over and she looked out for herself. That child urged her to take the radio and the flashlight and hide. No one would blame her.

But she wasn’t a child any longer. She’d indulged that piece of herself for too long. She couldn’t leave him. She stood up and grasped his hands in hers. Maybe she could make it to the storage closet. It was reinforced. It might be their best bet. She took a deep breath and started to pull him.

Tried to pull him and didn’t get far.

“You had to be all muscular, didn’t you?” She tried again, but he wouldn’t move.

There was a terrible sound that filled her whole world. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought a train was coming her way. It wasn’t a train. Tears filled her eyes and panic made her want to flee, but she dropped back down and did the only thing she could.

She covered his body with hers and prayed they survived.





CHAPTER THREE





“And they’re sure his hands are going to work? It’s just his brain that was bashed in? Wait, he needs his brain to cook, right? I know you don’t but what he does is so much more important.” A deep voice disturbed Macon’s sleep.

“Have I ever told you what an asshole you are?” Another voice. This one was very familiar, but Macon kind of wanted all of the voices to go away.

They seemed intent on tormenting him. “Maybe a couple of times, but this is serious, Sean. He’s an artist. If he dies, the world loses. Why couldn’t I have met him when I was in the Army instead of his brother? Adam is utterly useless unless you need someone to make sarcastic comments at inopportune times.”

“Yeah, and we all know that’s your job.”

His head ached. What the hell had happened? He didn’t remember dipping into the whiskey. He hadn’t done that for a while. He had work so he couldn’t drink all night and moan the loss of his leg. Not when there were pies to prep. Why had he started in again?

“Fuck you, Big Tag. And the next time you piss off some fifth grade hacker and your e-mail gets inundated with ads for erectile dysfunction and tractors, you’re on your own.” His brother was here? Why was his brother present at his hangover?

“That was Chelsea. She gets pissy from time to time.”

“Oh, and my sarcasm is so much smarter than your sarcasm,” his brother announced.

“Could your sarcasm be a little quieter?” He managed to get his eyes to open up. He closed them immediately. The world was way too bright. He started to stretch and found himself tethered to an IV. Shit. He was in the hospital. How many damn times was he going to wake up in a hospital?

He reached down and touched his good leg.

Adam leaned over. “It’s still there. You’re good. You’re at Parkland Hospital in Dallas.”

It was stupid but he was deeply grateful to his brother in that moment. Adam didn’t make fun of him for worrying. He simply explained.