MacKenzie's Lady (8 page)

A
n hour and a half later, Mac lifted the empty pizza box from the floor between them and set it out of the way on a side table. Holly leaned back against the sofa and lifted her glass of wine and clinked it gently against Mac's. In front of them, the fire hissed and popped a soft accompaniment to their conversation.

"I told you Dominic's had the greatest pizza in town."

He nodded, stretching his legs out in front of him and pulling a pillow off the sofa to tuck behind his back. "It was a great pizza, all right."

A comfortable silence settled between them. Holly couldn't remember the last time she had felt so utterly content with life. She wanted to freeze this moment in a time capsule so that she could take it out and look at it later.

She looked around the restful room before letting her eyes settle on her host. He looked as relaxed as she felt. Thick dark lashes shielded his eyes. His long body looked completely free of tension.

"I really like your house."

"Thanks." His lashes lifted and his eyes skimmed the room. "Ken says it puts him to sleep the minute he walks in, but his place is decorated in modern eclectic in every color and style he can lay his hands on. I wanted something a little more solid-looking."

"It suits you."

His mustache quirked upward. "Solid and dull?"

"No. Warm, stable, honest, straightforward."

Mac seemed to wince. He lifted his glass and drained the wine from it in one swallow. "Honest. Straightforward. I don't think those are terms that apply to someone who tells lies for a living." There was an underlying bitterness in his voice that she had never heard before.

"Sometimes you have to tell lies to do something good. I don't think it has any bearing on the kind of person you are. It's your job."

His eyes pinned her, an oddly intent expression in them. "My job. Is that really how you think of it?"

"Yes. I don't think you'd ever do something you thought was truly wrong. I trust you to do what's right, Mac."

His mouth twisted. "You trust me," he murmured almost inaudibly. "I wish I had your confidence."

Holly stared at him uncertainly. It was obvious that something was bothering him. Should she ask questions or just leave it alone? Maybe it was something he couldn't talk about. Before she came to a decision, he shook off the brooding atmosphere that had threatened to envelop them and smiled at her.

His hand closed around her upper arm and tugged her closer. "I seem to recall that there's still that matter of finding a suitable punishment for you." She let him take her glass from her and set it next to his, her mouth relaxing into a coaxing smile.

"I thought we were going to forget all that. You have to admit that it was pretty funny, Mac. Besides, I was weak from hunger and hardly responsible for my actions. And I did come up with Dominic's. You admitted it was a terrific pizza. That should make up for a lot."

He shook his head, a decidedly predatory gleam in his eyes. "I'll give you a few points for the pizza but that wasn't enough to make up for the terrible blow to my ego. I told you I was going to have to teach you a lesson on how a good date behaves."

"I have been a good date," she protested, hanging back against his hand. "How many of your dates would have helped you clean up the mess in the kitchen? Mac!" His name came out on a breathless shriek of surprise as he captured her hand, his free arm sweeping around her back as he pulled her onto his lap.

Holly lay across his thighs, her back supported by the steel hardness of his arm. Her dress had twisted beneath her and she was vividly aware of the roughness of his jeans against her nylon-clad legs.

Their eyes met and suddenly the playful mood was gone, replaced by something more dangerous. Holly licked her lips nervously, drawing his eyes to her mouth. She wasn't ready to take the next step yet, she reminded herself but the reminder seemed faint and far away.

His head dipped slowly and her pulse fluttered at the look of hunger that darkened his eyes to midnight blue. The very air that surrounded them seemed to thicken and shimmer. The fire popped quietly but the sound was distant, unconnected to the world that Holly was floating toward.

Her lashes dropped as his mouth found hers. It was like setting a torch to dry chaparral: instant combustion. An explosion of the senses that swept through her with irresistible force. The past weeks of gentle kisses and restrained caresses had left her with a deep hunger that matched his.

Her fingers found their way into the thick darkness of his hair, curling around his skull, to hold him to her. Not that Mac showed any signs of leaving. His mouth slanted across hers, demanding and receiving access to the honeyed warmth of her. She could taste the tang of the wine on his tongue. Or was it on hers? It didn't matter. They twined together in ? ritual as old as time, seeking, probing, demanding.

Mac's fingers skimmed across the front of her dress, hardly seeming to touch, yet the buttons that ran down the front fell open in his path. Holly moaned a protest as he drew away, her fingers sliding reluctantly from his silky hair. He shifted, easing her back onto the thick rug and leaning over her as he opened the dress, spreading it out on the gray carpet. It framed her body in a soft swirl of pale yellow.

Mac groaned and her eyes fluttered open. In the firelight his features were more shadowed than revealed. The hard line of his jaw counterbalanced the soft flicker of his eyes as they skimmed over her. A gentle warmth flooded her cheeks, a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire.

Mac groped desperately for his self-restraint as he 'ooked down at Holly. He hadn't intended to take things so far. What had started out as a game had rapidly escalated into something he couldn't control. It wouldn't be fair to go any further when she didn't know the full circumstances.

Even as he told himself that, a groan that held a note of pain tore itself from his throat. He was lost. Some distant part of his mind shouted that it wasn't too late. He could still call a halt with no harm done, still stop things before they went any further. But the voice was muffled by the rapid beat of his pulse.

Holly lay beneath him, her body flushed with firelight, her eyes languorous and wanting. As if from a distance, he watched his hand come out, touching the delicate thrust of her chin, trailing onto her throat. His fingers barely skimmed her breasts, feeling the flutter in her breathing as he brushed across the taut peaks. He let his thumb settle against her navel, his hand fanning out across her stomach.

"Holly."

Her name was ragged, half question, half plea. Her eyes opened slowly to meet the burning warmth of his gaze. With an effort his mouth twisted in a smile. "How do you expect me to keep my head when you wear something like this?" His hand brushed lightly across the tiny panties and lacy garter belt, trailing down to trace the line of one garter across her thigh to the top of her stocking.

For a moment the mists parted and Holly saw clearly that this was her moment to choose. If she wanted him to stop, now was the time to tell him. Her eyes searched his face, seeing hunger and the iron control that held it in check. But she also saw need, a need that was not just physical.

Mac moved away as she sat up slowly, holding his breath as her breast brushed against his arm, braced on the carpet beside them. She bent one leg in a graceful, feminine move and reached beneath it to unhook one lacy garter. Mac hardly dared to breathe as she unhooked the other garter and rolled the stocking down her slim leg in a gesture so sensual and alluring that his entire body tightened in response. The nylon was tossed carelessly toward the sofa.

"It's much easier if someone else does it." The words were a throaty invitation. His eyes swept to her face for an instant, reading all the desire he had hardly dared to dream of, with just a flickering hint of uncertainty. This was not a woman who was accustomed to offering such blatantly sensual invitations. That Holly wanted him enough to do so added to his already inflamed senses.

His fingers trembled slightly as he reached down and unhooked the delicate fabric, rolling the other stocking down the smooth length of her leg and tossing it toward its mate.

Her fingers shook against his chest as she maneuvered first one button of his shirt and then another through buttonholes that seemed too small. He sat patiently until the last button surrendered and she was able to push the shirt off his shoulders. Her palms ran over his chest, her fingers curling into the thick mat of hair that covered its muscular strength. She brushed across a masculine nipple, lingering in response to his indrawn breath, her head lifting until she could see his face.

Mac's patience melted and vanished beneath her delicate touch. With a groan he swept her back down onto the carpet, his broad chest crushing her breasts with controlled power. His mouth took hers with avid hunger.

Mac's fingers moved rapidly, ridding himself of his jeans and stripping the last tantalizing bits of fabric from her willing body. Holly's hands were not still. She explored the rigid length of his spine, tracing each ripplii^j muscle that spanned his back.

She gasped as he kicked his jeans away and his naked body came against hers. His hard arousal was a heated brand along her hip, a promise. His mouth left hers and brushed past her throat to find the silken weight of her breasts. Her nails dug into his shoulders as his lips closed around one swollen nipple and began a deep tugging motion that sank to her very core. Her hips arched in unconscious echo of that movement.

His hand slid across her stomach, his fingers finding the silky dark curls that sheltered her femininity. His body jerked in response to the waiting warmth he found there. Mac's forehead felt feverish as he rested it between her breasts, fighting for some semblance of control.

But if Mac was struggling to stem his passion, Holly was too far gone even to remember the meaning of the word "control." Her body was on fire. She felt as if she lay in the very midst of a bed of smoldering coals and it would take only the lightest of touches to make her burst into flame. The fire that burned beside them was nothing compared to the burning heat inside.

Mac's chest heaved with the effort of thinking. His mind was filled with the sight and sound and scent of her. But there was something he needed to do, something he had to ask. He forced his spinning mind to vague coherency.

"Holly, are you protected? Is it safe?" The words were muttered against her breast and they came to Holly in a meaningless jumble.

Words. She didn't want words. What was he waiting for? She ached. She burned. She needed. Her whole body was on fire. Safe? Did he think he would hurt her?

"Mac, please." Her head tossed restlessly, her body straining toward his. His fingers curled deeper into her warmth and she whimpered. "Yes! Yes! Please, Mac, now!"

"Oh, Lord, I want you!" His legs moved between hers. He tested himself against her, felt her readiness and surged deeply inside her. Time stood still for a moment as they lay locked in the most intimate of embraces, savoring their closeness.

Mac slid one palm beneath her, his hand almost spanning her buttocks as he tilted her upward and began to move. Holly's nails bit gently into his back, her body arching to receive his, her entire being concentrating on the sensations that rioted through her. Such was the intensity of their involvement that it could not last long.

Mac felt the delicate tightening of her body around him and he moaned deep in his throat. Her eyes flew wide and she stared at him for a long moment, her entire body taut and quivering as she met the wild darkness of his gaze. Her eyes fell shut and her fingers bit deep into his muscular buttocks as she drew him even closer, catching him in the sweeping force of her climax.

His body arched heavily against her. A long shudder racked him as he followed her into swirling ecstasy, her name a hoarse mutter against her neck.

❧

The fire crackled softly, feeding on the last of the wood. The flames that had leaped so high earlier had sunk to flickering shadows. The two figures who lay entwined in front of its fading glory were still. Mac's arms wrapped Holly close against his side, his face was buried in her hair, his eyes closed in utter contentment.

He nuzzled her ear softly, eliciting a soft giggle from her limp form. Pleased, he tightened his arms and let his tongue trace the convolutions of her ear. This time, she purred throatily and tilted her head, directing his mouth to the sensitive area behind her ear. He shifted his hand to cup her breast, his thumb brushing softly over the tip, feeling her response.

"What are you doing?"

"This is called foreplay," he told her without pausing in his gentle assault.

"Foreplay?" She laughed, tilting her head out of his reach and grabbing his marauding hand to control its wandering. "I thought foreplay was supposed to come before."

Mac rose up on an elbow until he could look into her face. "Usually it does, but we didn't take time for it earlier and I didn't want to miss out on any of the steps, so I just thought I'd throw it in now."

Her fingers combed lightly through his chest hair, her eyes resting there rather than on his face. "I don't usually act like that," she murmured.

"Like what?" He brushed the tousled curls back from her forehead.

"Umm." Holly searched for the right word. "Demanding. I mean I hardly gave you time___"

The chuckle started deep in his chest and she felt his breath brush her forehead as it broke from him. "Isn't this a bit of a role reversal? I thought I was the one who should be apologizing."

Her flush deepened and he dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. His voice was tender. "You are without a doubt the most magnificently sensual woman I have ever known. If we rushed things, then I deserve a share of the responsibility. I wanted you so much, Holly. I felt like a boy again. I couldn't have slowed things down if I'd wanted to.. .which I didn't," he finished firmly.

"I just didn't realize I could be so... so aggressive," she confessed.

Aggressive? He hid a smile at the word. Did she really think she'd been too aggressive? "You were perfect," he told her with certainty. He got to his feet, bending down to scoop her up in his arms. "And just to reassure you, this time we'll take it real slow."

Holly linked her arms around his neck, enjoying the deliriously helpless feeling of having him carry her so easily. "This time?" she questioned as he left the living room and walked down a hallway.

Mac angled her through a doorway and into his bedroom. She had only a fleeting glimpse of heavy drapes and a bed that seemed endless before he dropped her lightly on the mattress and leaned over her, his expression unreadable in the dim light that filtered through the hall.

"This time we'll take it so slow that you'll beg me to rush it. We've got all night and I'm going to use every minute of it."

Her hands tugged him down. "I hope you don't expect me to protest."

"No, just enjoy."