Move on…maybe to some other undeserving asshole. The thought sent razor blades shredding through his chest.
He hauled her up to her feet and grabbed her around her slim waist, whirled and planted her on the island. She gave a soft laugh as a strand of dark hair fell over her eyes…stunningly beautiful, dreamy, come-fuck-me eyes. He insinuated himself between her thighs and reached for the back pocket of his drooping jeans. She glanced down at his dick. No drooping there. He was damn near pointing straight up.
Macy’s pink tongue slid over her swollen top lip. He’d love to let it slide over him some more, but he was humming with too much adrenaline, too much pent-up energy. As much as he’d like her to suck him off, right now he needed to fuck. Hard. He needed her to never forget what he felt like inside her.
She reached for his cock while he tore the foil, one corner of that luscious mouth kicked up. “Magnum,” she commented.
“You know it.”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
His task completed, he pulled her close, spreading her legs wide around his hips. “Seth,” she breathed, the tiniest hint of urgency in her tone. “Go slow at first, okay? It…had been a while and…”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. He needed her, he needed her hard and fast, but one tiny hint of vulnerability from her and he also wanted to soothe her and protect her. And never, ever hurt her.
She took his gentle intrusion with her head back, her nails digging in his shoulders, her graceful throat exposed so he could watch the pulse flutter at the side of her neck. He could feel that same pulse in the clinging depths of her pussy. Her brow furrowed, but whether it was pleasure or pain or a comingling of the two, he couldn’t tell. He held still while she shifted to angle her hips better for him. When she found it, he knew. Her expression smoothed over.
“Oh yes,” he murmured, nuzzling the side of her neck. He moved one hand from her thigh to draw teasing circles around her areola with his thumb as he withdrew from her almost all the way. Only the very tip of him claimed the last inch of her. He slid back in, easier this time. She was so swollen, so tight. So perfect, contoured in just a way that stroked all his hot spots. Like she’d been made for him.
Every ounce of restraint he possessed was engaged right now, straining against the need roaring through his veins, holding it at bay. He wouldn’t let go until he knew she was with him.
Her internal muscles squeezed him and he growled. Goddamn, he loved it when she did that. The girl had muscles in places that—
She did it again, and all thought shut down.
“Macy…” It was a plea. It was a prayer. If she needed it, he’d turn it into a fucking chant. He just wanted her, wanted to plunge into her over and over, needed to make her his.
“Yes, Seth, yes.”
She’d scarcely gotten his name out when he let go. Just like last night, her strong gripping heat brought out the beast in him, and he was hungry for her. Maybe someday he could imagine actually making love to this woman, but now wasn’t that time. Her cries were music in his ears and when he looked down to watch himself disappear over and over inside her pink folds, so wet and pretty, the sight was almost his undoing. How many damn times would she undo him?
When she came, he felt it. Never in a million years would she ever be able to fake him out—she gripped him so hard and drew him so deep when she climaxed he couldn’t breathe. Her thigh muscles went rock hard around his hips. Her nipples pulled tight. Color roared high in her cheeks. Right in front of him, she blossomed all over, and it was a thing of fucking beauty.
He followed her lead. How could he not? His chest constricted as his release shot through. For one moment, their gazes locked, and then their mouths melded furiously as he pumped his seed into the barrier between them. She drank in his moans and muffled curses and stroked his back as she squeezed the last drop from him with her own aftershocks.
“Oh my God,” she sighed, that soft coming-down sigh he already recognized and loved. She drew his head down to rest on her shoulder as he struggled to catch his breath. Wrapped in her heat, in her arms, in her legs…Christ.
It had never been this way before. And that was why he needed to get the fuck out of here.
Needed to, but wouldn’t. Because when it came to girls like Macy—like Brooke—he was a hopeless frigging sap.
He damn sure wished that name would quit crossing his thoughts. Whatever emotions Macy was pulling out of him, he wanted to push, shove and kick them back where they belonged. Her questions last night hadn’t helped.
Macy was nothing like Brooke. They might’ve come from similar, wealthy backgrounds, but Brooke had been high maintenance to boot. He wouldn’t have been able to afford that girl, something he realized now but as a kid with stars in his fuckin’ eyes, he’d thought the world was his oyster. With her at his side, he could do anything. When she’d left, she’d given him a sharp slap of reality.
He lifted his head before he could fall asleep on his feet cradled in Macy’s embrace. The glazed hazel eyes staring at him now didn’t contain one ounce of the disdain he’d seen in the expression of the first and only woman he’d loved that day years ago. All he saw now were the ravages of very recent pleasure. Macy leaned forward and kissed him sweetly, stroking his tongue with hers, and the dark spot on his thoughts was washed away.
She eased back and stroked his eyebrow with her thumb. “You looked far away,” she murmured.
“I’m back now.”
“Where’d you go?”
He shook his head. “Nowhere you need to worry about.” Only then did he step away from her, allowing himself to slip free of her body. She gasped softly and snapped closed her legs, pulling her robe over her flushed breasts.
There was something so sexy about a well-fucked woman. Especially when she came back to herself after an amazing orgasm and realized she was still sprawled wantonly on a piece of furniture in a moderately inappropriate place. Or a backseat. Macy had that look now, the slightly embarrassed I can’t believe I just let him take me here look.
She cleared her throat and hopped down, her dark hair shielding her face. He grinned to himself and headed to her bathroom to take care of the condom. When he returned, she was back in her original position when he’d first entered the kitchen, whipping up pancakes.
“Hungry?” she asked.
Now that his sexual appetite was out of the way—well, for the most part—hell yeah, he could focus on less important parts of his anatomy, like his stomach. “And she cooks too,” he said, pinching her on the bottom. She laughed.
“Well, a little. Don’t get too excited.”
She had him excited all right. It had little to do with her abilities in the kitchen. Of the culinary variety.
“We didn’t burn the bacon after all,” he observed, picking a piece and biting into it. It was good and crispy, just the way he liked it.
She laughed softly and he paused to watch her profile. As she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand visibly shook.
“You okay?” he asked, smoothing his hand up her back and massaging her shoulder.
She nodded almost before he could get the words out. She wouldn’t look at him. “Mm-hmm. Great.”
What the hell had happened here? He’d kind of sneaked up and laid siege to her, but she’d seemed to be into it. Maybe last night was supposed to have been last night, and this morning, she wanted him the hell out of her house.
No strings, right.
Okay, he could do that. It’s what he’d promised her last night. But he found again that he didn’t like it. A thousand and one things he could do to her pliant body zoomed through his mind. He wanted all day with her to knock some of them out.
“Coffee?” she asked, pulling mugs down from a cabinet.
Obviously she hadn’t planned to kick him out right away. He was being a dumbass. “That’d be awesome. Black.”
They sat down to eat at her bistro table in her sunny little nook, but the pleasure of the food was eclipsed by that of watching her hair sparkle in the sun. It was brown and silky, though the morning light cast a reddish halo around it. Several times, he glanced over his coffee mug to catch her staring at him. She would always drop her gaze to her plate or avert it out the window. She barely touched her own food.
“You’re not eating much,” he said.
“I’m actually not that hungry. I thought I was…but I guess I’m not.”
“Feel okay?”
Her brows dipped briefly. “Oh, sure.”
“Macy.” Ghost reached across the table, sliding his hand over hers. Immediately, she turned hers over and grasped it. Might as well get it out there. “If you’re feeling weird about all this, you don’t have to worry. Don’t think anything is different from what we talked about last night.”
It really hurt to say. And maybe he was insane, but he thought the expression that crossed her face as she stared down at their joined hands was hurt too.
“I know that.” Her voice sounded thick, as if her throat was closing in. “I had a really good time, though.”
“Me too.”
Her soulful gaze flickered up to his and back down. Dammit, they hadn’t even scratched the surface. Why did her words have echoes of good-bye in them? Why the hell did sex always complicate things? It was just one body part going into another. Why couldn’t it just be about the physical act, please and thank you, catch ya later?