Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls) (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

After dropping the envelope of cash at the forensics lab, Stella drove toward home but didn’t make the turn onto her street. Restlessness made her drive past. Despite her lack of sleep and skipped meals, frustrated energy buzzed under her skin. There was only one person she wanted to see.

Mac’s cabin’s lights blazed as she parked in front of his porch.

This was a terrible idea. He’d acted strangely at the crime scene. They’d found Dena Miller. Maybe he had no more interest in Stella. She should go home. Exhaustion and lack of food were impairing her judgment.

She reached for the gearshift, but he walked out onto his porch. His hair had reverted to its untamed state, making her want to run her hands through it, and the way his snug T-shirt hugged his lean torso stirred a hunger deep in her belly. She was not going home tonight. She wanted those strong arms around her. He could make her forget one of the worst days of her life.

Stella got out of the car.

Mac met her at the bottom of the steps. He didn’t say a word, just drew her to his chest and held her close. She leaned on him.

He rubbed her back.

Stella lifted her head and met his eyes. Her hands shook as she raised them to splay on his chest. He covered her fingers with his, his hands warming hers. The night was hot and humid. A storm lingered in the air but refused to break the heat wave. Atmospheric tension buzzed as loudly as the symphony of insects in the surrounding forest. It had to be eighty-five degrees. How could she be cold?

“Come inside.” He tucked her under one arm and guided her into his kitchen. “Have you eaten?”

Turmoil churned in her stomach. She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“No wonder you look sick.” He filled a mug with water and put it in the microwave. Opening a cabinet, he took down a can, opened it, and poured the contents into a saucepan.

“He put her on display.” She wandered into his living room. The night air blowing through the screens chilled her skin. She didn’t see the cozy cabin in front of her. Her mind was replaying every detail of the horrifying scene she’d analyzed that afternoon.

He lit the burner under the pan. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s my job.” She walked back into the kitchen. Her hands gripped the back of a chair, as if the weight of it would ground her.

“I know. But it’s still awful, and you’re human.”

Anger and frustration burned in her chest, and tears threatened. She blinked them back. “I have to find him.”

“I couldn’t see much from the parking area, but today’s scene sounds more elaborate than the first.”

“Yes. His ritual is getting more complicated.” She shivered.

“Why?” Mac pulled out a chair and guided her into it.

She rested her chin in her hand. “I don’t know yet. Spivak has a record of sexual assault. A perv doesn’t need a reason that you and I would understand. He just wants who he wants, whether she’s someone who looks like his mom or the first girl who spurned him. But the fact that Missy wasn’t raped nags at me. From the way he acted in the interview, my gut says Spivak would have sexually assaulted her.”

“You already said motivation is hard to predict. Maybe the torture is what drives him.” He set a bowl of soup in front of her. “Sorry. This is all I have on hand. I haven’t been grocery shopping.”

She ate without tasting, her mind occupied with the case.

She told him about Adam’s reaction, the press conference, and the cash she’d found in Missy’s apartment. “Everyone said Missy was broke. Where did she get over two thousand dollars? And why was it stashed under her floorboard? She had a bank account.”

“Are you sure the money is hers?

“I’ll have our fingerprint examiner see if she can pull any prints tomorrow.” Stella’s first stop of the morning would be the county forensics lab.

Mac set a cup of tea on the table. Leaning over her shoulder, he reached for her bowl. He smelled like the forest. She turned her face to his body and inhaled. “Were you outside?”

“For a while.”

“You smell like pine trees.”

His breath quickened, and he froze. “Is that good?”

Standing, she placed both hands on Mac’s arms. His biceps were hard under her touch. The wind blew across his kitchen, bringing the scent of trees and earth into the room.

“Very.” She rested her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to think about the case anymore tonight.”

“I don’t blame you.” His hand settled between her shoulder blades. “You’ve had a hell of a day. You need to take a break, even if it’s just a short one.”

Images of Dena’s body flashed in her head. She raised her eyelids. Mac’s bright-blue eyes studied her. Much better.

Something unfurled inside her. Want. Like a young moth testing new wings, desire opened and closed, indecisive. What did she want? She hadn’t had so much as a date since the shooting the previous November. Her focus had been on her career, and she hadn’t met a man who warranted her attention.

Or once she’d met Mac, she hadn’t met anyone as interesting. He was more than he appeared. Mac was layers of kindness and humor, intelligence and determination, vulnerability and courage. And he sparked a need inside her that could only be described as primitive. With him, she didn’t have to be perfect. She didn’t have to contain anything. She could let go.

Her fingers tightened on the solid flesh under them. “Will I scare you off if I say that I really want you right now?”

Mac coughed. “Sorry. You surprised me.”

She’d surprised herself. She took his hand in hers, turned, and tugged him toward his bedroom. He followed, then paused at the threshold. Her fingers found the top button of her blouse while her eyes roamed over him.

He crossed his arms and leaned on the doorjamb. Worn and soft, his T-shirt and cargos molded to his body. He was lean and hard without an ounce of bulk. She had no doubt he’d earned his body through hiking, climbing, and basic survival in the jungle, not pumping iron at a gym on his lunch hour. Underneath the subtle woodsy cologne, his scent was all male.

“You know I like talking to you. I’m in no rush to sleep with you.” He flushed. “Not that I don’t want you. I do.” His eyes brightened as her fingers lingered on the button. “I really do.” He licked his lips. “But you’ve had a horrific day. If you just need to talk, I can do that.”

His gaze was as hungry as his words were polite. This man was such a study in self-control. Stella suddenly wanted to break it, to make him lose his fist-tight grip on his emotions, to lose himself in her.

She flicked open the button. “I’m finished talking.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Are you sure?” Mac couldn’t believe he asked the question. The woman of his dreams was getting naked in his bedroom and he was practically telling her she should reconsider her decision. He was a moron.

“I’m sure.” Stella shook out her hair. It fell around her shoulders in a dark, tousled wave. Hairpins dropped to the floor.

“You’re positive I’m not just a distraction?” Damn his conscience. And ego.

In the past, he wouldn’t have cared. He would have been happy to provide the release of her pent-up frustration. If she hadn’t wanted to see him again, he wouldn’t have cared.

But this was Stella, literally the woman of his dreams. The first woman he craved conversation with as much as sex.

Who would have thought
that
would ever happen? Not him.

It was a freaking miracle.

And yet it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t satisfied being with her simply because his body ached for her. This thing between them had to be equal. He wanted Stella to need him just as much as he needed her. If he was going to let himself be vulnerable, to give her power over him, then she had to do the same.

He wanted her pulse to thud in her ears like a bass drum. Her blood to rush as hot as lava through her veins. For every cell in her body to yearn for him. He wanted to be the man she chose above all others.

She opened the second button on her blouse.

Enough with the biology lesson, Mac. Woman getting naked here.

Mesmerized, Mac stared as she flicked a third button, then a fourth. The fabric parted, revealing the swell of her breasts. He licked his lips, dying for a taste of that smooth skin.

Button number five.

White satin and lace. That’s what she’d been hiding under that up-tight, mannish blouse. All. Day. Long. Hell, she probably wore sexy, feminine silk against her skin all the time.

Any blood remaining in Mac’s brain flowed south with the power of the Amazon.

She stood for a minute, letting him look. Breasts swelled over white lace. Flat abs tempted him to lick his way . . .

She moved on to her cuffs, seemingly content to continue her striptease, but Mac couldn’t wait any longer. He was going to implode if he didn’t get his hands on her. In two steps, he was standing in front of her, their bodies inches apart. The animal in him wanted to strip off her pants, hoist her legs around his waist, and take her against the wall right that second.

Finesse.

He wasn’t one of the beasts he studied in the jungle, but his desire for Stella stripped him raw. Still, the woman deserved a little consideration.

“Let me help.” He slid the cotton off her shoulders, putting his lips to the creamy white skin of her collarbone. She arched back, her head lolling to the side as he brushed his lips up the side of her neck.

A taste of her wasn’t enough. The need to explore every inch of her roared through him. He tugged the shirt sleeves to her elbows, his mouth hungry.

She groaned as his lips cruised down to the swell of her breast. He traced the lace edge of her bra with his tongue. Her full-body shudder sent a knee-buckling wave of anticipation rushing through his blood.

“I can’t move.” She wiggled, trying to free her arms, but they were trapped by the sleeves of her blouse.

Mac gathered the fabric tighter. “I know. I kind of like it.”

That sexy, skeptical brow shot upward.

“I can have my way with you.” He gave her earlobe a playful, gentle nip.

Irritation wrinkled her brow. “You can have your way with me because I
want
you to have your way with me.”

“I know.” Mac laughed, tugged the sleeves behind her, and held them against the small of her back with one hand. With the other, he stroked her waist, his fingers playing across her abdomen. “Just give me a minute or so to indulge myself. My hidden caveman has needs.”

“Hidden? You don’t hide him very well.” Her eyes darkened as he flicked open the front clasp of her bra.

“Trust me,” he said.

Her head tilted. “I do.”

Her statement, and the sight of her bare skin, nearly brought him to his knees. In fact, it did. He dropped to one knee in front of her.

He let his gaze roam over her, suddenly in no rush at all, taking in each lovely curve. “You’re perfect.”

Her blush spread to the pale skin of her breasts. “You’re a tease.”

“Me?” He laughed. “I just want to look at you for a minute. Indulge me.”

“It’s been a minute.” She tugged at her sleeves.

“Don’t rush me.” Grinning, he closed his mouth over a nipple.

She stopped struggling. Her head fell back. Her body relaxed, and a sweet moan purred from her throat.

He lifted his head to watch pleasure drift lazily over her face. “See?”

“I see.” She smiled down at him. Her voice shifted into a command. “More.”

“Yes, ma’am. You’re hot when you’re bossy.” He cruised across her chest and down her belly, letting her response guide his attentions. Nibbling, kissing, tasting. His tongue delved into her belly button and just below the waistband of her slacks. He wanted more. Much more.

“Mac.” Her tone sharpened, but her eyes begged. “Please.”

He released her sleeves and undid the button of her slacks. The silky fabric slid off her hips and pooled at her feet. But she made no effort to slide her hands free.

Hot damn.

Her panties were white and lacy and covered just enough to stir his imagination—and whet his appetite. He leaned forward to kiss her through the lace. He caught a hint of her taste through the fabric. Sweetness. Utter sweetness. She was more addictive than any drug, and he had to have more. He’d never have enough.

He hooked his thumbs in the fabric over her hips and drew them down her legs.

Rocking back, he took a long look. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“Why am I naked, and you’re still dressed?”

“Because I love to look at you.” He slid a hand down her long, long leg. Wrapping a hand around her ankle, he lifted her foot, kissed it, and drew off her panties and slacks. She stood in front of him, wearing only her white shirt drawn down around her biceps and her bra hanging open.

He’d never seen anything so lovely.

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her core. The taste of her on his lips wasn’t enough. His tongue delved in. And her body went taut as a bow.

She pulled her arms free of her sleeves. A button popped. Fabric ripped. Then her hands were on his head, her fingers twined in his hair, her moans driving him faster.

“Now.” She tugged on his hair.

Mac climbed to his feet. Unlike him, she didn’t take her time.

Thank God.

She grabbed his shirt by the hem and ripped it over his head. Her eyes cooled as she touched the edge of his bandage. “Oh, lord. I didn’t think. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He slipped a hand between her legs and watched her face heat again.
Better.
The truth was, he couldn’t care less about his stitches.

“I’ll be gentle.” Tossing his shirt over her shoulder, she attacked the button of his pants. She had them down to his knees in two seconds. When her hand curled around him, he almost lost it.

“Hold on.” He reached for his pocket. “There’s a condom in the back of my wallet.”

“Already got one.” She held a foil packet in her other hand.
Where did she get that?
Ripping it open, she covered him.

“I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

“I want you.” She pushed him backward onto the bed. “Now.”

Mac bounced on the mattress, kicking off his pants as she climbed on top of him.

“I’ve been very patient.” She straddled his thighs, careful not to touch his bandage.

His hand stroked up her arm and wrapped around a lock of her hair. Her eyes. Yeah. He could stare at those all day, too. And the focused, hungry look on her face. “You have, and I appreciate it.”

“You’d better let me do all the work.” In one smooth motion, she rose and took him into her body. Goddamn. She was tight and wet and hot. Buried inside her, he decided this moment could go on for the rest of his life.

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.