WOULD it be such a bad idea to fall asleep on Mac’s knee? Tess’ body was halfway there already. Her mind wasn’t far behind. It would appear that good, rough sex had burned away the insult and temper she had provoked in him, and now, he seemed to be content to cuddle with her.
His hands stroked along her body as though she were something precious. His tenderness didn’t excite or arouse, but soothed. Every touch was light enough to please her sensitive skin, but firm enough to remind Tess just who owned her, body and soul. As Mac explored with gentle caresses, her eyes flickered shut with the serenity of the moment.
This was peace.
“I should really let you get some sleep,” Mac murmured as his lips brushed the slope of her shoulder. He chuckled when she leaned into him, dropped her head back against his shoulder, and opened her throat and jaw to his questing mouth. She whimpered when he shifted and severed the tie between them.
Something like agreement mumbled from her mouth. Tess swore she would do anything, give anything, to keep those rough palms sliding over her skin, to hear that voice croon in her ear. “Time is it?”
“Six thirty or thereabouts.”
“Morning?”
“Yes, in the morning. Let’s get you in the shower and cleaned up before I put you to bed. Sit still,” he warned when she groaned in protest. “You move now and there’s going to be one hell of a mess.”
Not a lot she could say to that. She turned a fine shade of crimson at what he implied, but there were definitely no words in response. Instead, she let him surge to his feet, his arms banded firmly around her waist as he supported her weight easily.
“Bathroom?”
“Down the hall to the left, opposite the bedroom.” Tess’ place was tiny, so finding his way around wouldn’t be a problem. Being carried by him felt like flying, strapped to the front of a plane.
In the closet-sized bathroom, he managed to turn the shower on with one hand as his other arm held her tight to him. The strength in him was like steel beams at her back. She felt safe, protected.
Then the bastard stepped under the spray.
The not-so-warm spray.
Perhaps she yelped. It might possibly have been a scream. His laugh bounced off the walls of the shower. “You bloody idiot, Mac!”
“Thought it might wake you up for a round of watersports before bed,” he said and sank his teeth into her shoulder. Something electric skittered down her spine and made it arch and tingle. “Someone likes that.”
Tess wished she could tell him she loved him. Inside her, the emotion swirled so defiantly she wondered why it didn’t just erupt from her. Those three little words, that one simple phrase, sat on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be heard. To be accepted.
To be reciprocated.
But he wouldn’t believe her, not so soon after meeting. Perhaps he never would, or he wouldn’t return the feelings that were building, strength by strength, inside her. And if he rejected her…well, if he rejected her, it would break her.
The water streaming over them now was wonderfully hot, easing away the aches and twinges that came from a long, long night of strenuous physical activities. The best night of her young life.
“Hold on,” Mac murmured and shifted his hands so they cupped beneath her thighs. “This might be a bit uncomfortable but, just remember, I’ve got you.”
“Mac—”
He set her down, his hands moving from her thighs to her hips. Tess cried out when her muscles complained, the distress in her voice clear, before she whimpered pitifully. She felt stiff and ungainly, like a newborn foal. Her feet touched the shower floor. Her legs gave way, and she pitched forward.
“I’ve got you, baby.” Mac’s arms wrapped around her, and his face nuzzled her neck. “I’ve got you. Just get your balance.”
Jesus. Jesus. Tess’ backside was sore. It bordered on painful. Her legs were rubber stilts, wobbling around uselessly. The feeling of helplessness overrode everything and the first stirrings of panic emerged from beneath the glow of satisfaction.
“Steady, Tess. You’re all right. Breathe.”
She realized suddenly her chest heaved, as she desperately tried to suck in air. The shower became too small, too enclosed, with no air to breathe, no light to break the dark.
Mac spun her around quickly before he gripped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. He never broke eye contact, didn’t sever his touch and the link that she relied on. “Look at me, Tess. Listen to me. Everything’s fine. You’re fine. Take a deep breath for me,” he ordered, and then nodded when she managed to drag one in. “Blow it out slowly. There’s a lass. Everything’s fine.”
He coached her through the panic attack, his gaze on hers, his hands keeping her head steady. His hair turned dark when it was wet, a deep dark red that enhanced his eyes.
And what was in his eyes stole Tess’ breath away.
Maybe, just maybe, he cared.
“Better?” he asked gently as his thumbs stroked her cheekbones.
Tess nodded. Her voice was nowhere to be found.
“What am I going to do with you? So many issues swimming around in this pretty head of yours, ready and waiting to trip you up at any given moment.”
There was nothing to do but shrug. Her issues were immense and complicated. Years of therapy hadn’t helped. No one could get close enough to the problems to fix them.
Mac sighed and rested his forehead against hers. Her heart melted in her chest. “Something about you draws me, baby. I don’t know what, but there’s just something…” After another moment he straightened and reached for the shower gel. “You’re going to let me take care of you now, no arguments.”
She had none. His statement, so quietly spoken and so honest, shook her down to the core. She could do nothing but stand beneath the water and allow him to lather every inch of her aching body with painstaking care.
He used his foot to nudge hers apart, and then crouched and ran soapy fingers along her legs. Tess braced against the wall, too eager to touch. She gasped loudly when he massaged her tender sex, his fingers carefully manipulating swollen flesh. Then they slid back between her cheeks, and she jerked away.
“Tess,” he said in warning.
“Don’t touch,” she whimpered. Her hands fisted on the tiles. However much she needed it, there was nothing to grab hold of to anchor herself.
His hand reached around, splayed across her belly. He stood, as imposing as ever, and the solid breadth of him pressed against her back. His free hand rested on her buttock. “I know I was rough with you, baby. Too rough for your first time anally. That’s my fault. I promised I’d take care with you, prepare you properly, and I didn’t. It’s my responsibility to tend to you and any damage I might have done.”
That particular area throbbed. There was an ache that wasn’t making an effort to go away, and the orifice itself felt like it gaped open. A weird and unpleasant feeling. Tess still wasn’t sure nothing had ripped inside her, and the thought she could be bleeding frightened her beyond words.
“Too sore,” she mumbled, embarrassed. She was more embarrassed by the thought of him touching there now after he’d been in there, than she was by the fact he had in fact been in there.
“Sorry, baby. I’m sorry. Let me check, make sure things are as they should be. I’ll be very gentle, I promise.”
“No, Mac, please. I—”
“Trust me. I need to make this right.”
She wanted to resist. Everything in her was rigid with the need to resist him. It cost her some time and effort to convince her body he wasn’t going to hurt her, he didn’t want to hurt her. Nothing was said by either of them for a couple of minutes while her inner conflicts battled.
Then, she surrendered and went limp against him. Trusted him to hold her up. “All right.”
“Good girl. Just hold on to my arm and I’ll be done in a minute.”
Obediently, she gripped the iron forearm at her waist, closed her eyes, and held her breath. His fingers parted her buttocks and then skimmed the sensitive flesh. She jerked forward with a yelp. Mac held her still. She whimpered continuously as he delved into that abused place, obviously trying to keep his word and tread carefully.
But it didn’t stop the throbbing from quickening, or the ache from deepening. Her insides felt raw and his fingers were an instrument of hell intent on irritating them. “Enough. Mac, please, enough!”
“All right, baby. I know it hurts. I’ll make it all better.”
“Am I—” Tess’ voice shook at the very thought of his answer. “Am I bleeding?”
“No, baby, you’re not. You’ll feel it a little bit later on, but there’s no damage. No bleeding.” He slicked soap down her shoulders, kneaded taut muscles, before he continued down her back. “I abused your trust tonight, Tess. It isn’t something I do often, and I could give you excuses, but the fact is, it was unforgiveable.”
Curious, she turned to face him to watch his face. He was somber, blatantly unhappy with himself. She didn’t like seeing him swamped by negative emotions. “Do you feel it’s necessary to apologize for losing control of your emotions, Mac?”
“Yes, when losing control of my emotions means taking it out on you. Less than twelve hours ago, you were a virgin. I had no plans to take you anally for a while. It certainly wouldn’t have been done in the manner it was.”
Bless him. She stood on her tiptoes, cupped his face in her hands, and smiled at him. “Did you give me opportunities to back out, after I’d offered myself to you, knowing what your mood was?”
“I think—”
“No thinking. The answer is yes. Did I, at any time, beg you to stop?”
He sighed. “No.”
“Did I orgasm?”
“Yes.”
“I offered my anal virginity to you, Mac, knowing what mood you were in. Maybe it was a bit…rough at times, but there was never a point when I didn’t trust you. I accepted the consequences.”
“Some things shouldn’t be done while under the influence of temper,” Mac argued stubbornly. He poured shampoo into his palm, dumped it on her head.
“Some things can’t be experienced except under the influence of temper,” Tess retorted. Their fingers tangled together in her short cap of hair. Together they massaged in shampoo. “Lighten up, Mac. It’s done, we enjoyed it, and no harm came to anything.”
It was with interest she watched him fight the guilt, the self-loathing over his perceived act of betrayal. Then, he gave a short laugh and covered her mouth with his in a deep, luscious kiss. “You are far too good for me, Tess. I’m beginning to think forever won’t be long enough.”
Shocked, she stood staring at him, trying to take in his words. He washed her off and grinned at her while he lathered and rinsed himself.
Beginning to think forever won’t be long enough.
Had Mac succumbed to the same feelings that haunted her? Could two people fall in love in a matter of hours, or was it only down to lust and hormones feeding the blood and fooling the heart?
“That’s kept you quiet,” he said as he wrapped a towel around her and briskly dried her off. His gaze was on her, hot and tempting, and then he gripped her hand and led her across the hall to the bedroom.
“I’m not entirely sure what to say,” she admitted.
He drew back the covers on the bed and urged her down. Not that she needed much encouragement. “Make yourself comfortable. I have a couple calls to make. They won’t take more than a couple minutes. Go to sleep, baby, get some rest.”
Cool sheets against her back, the comfort of the soft duvet around her, and a freshly laundered pillow beneath her head, she didn’t stand a chance against utter exhaustion.
Tess woke wrapped around Mac a few hours later. His body, his warmth, his scent…she decided she would be honored to die at this precise moment in time. She’d given the gift of her body, her virginities, and her trust. She knew whatever she needed, Mac would give her.
When she opened her eyes, she was startled to find he stared adoringly at her while she'd slept. Something akin to a snuffle-snort bubbled out of her in surprise.
“Such attractive noises,” Mac rumbled in her ear.
Tess yawned, snuggled closer to the potent source of heat beside her, and sighed contentedly. “You’re still here. What time’s it?”
A calloused hand stroked down her back to the curve of her buttocks. Damn if she didn’t love the feel of those strong hands on her. “Roughly two. If you’re still tired, go back to sleep. I’m here.”
“Damn right I’m going back to sleep,” she muttered. “Two in the morning is a horrible time to be awake.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest. “Not two a.m., baby. Two in the afternoon.”
He might as well have poked her with a cattle prod. “Shit! Late, I’m so late for work!” As her mind scrambled and her body struggled to catch up, she sat bolt upright.
“It’s taken care of, Tess. You have the week off work due to illness. Your boss sends her best wishes and left orders for you to stay in bed until you feel better.” His hand slid around her belly and snuck up to tweak a nipple. “I have to say, baby, I don’t think you’ve ever felt better.”
Annoyed, Tess smacked his hand away. “Just how is my boss under the impression I’m sick, Mac?”
Unperturbed, Mac just leaned back against the pillows, his perfectly sculptured chest calling to her like a wicked siren, and grinned like a naughty schoolboy caught with a frog in his pocket. “I called her this morning after you were asleep, told her that I’d stripped you of your virginities through the night, and that you needed ample rest and recovery before returning to work. She fully agreed.”
Tess’ jaw hit the floor. “You did what?”
“Relax, Tess, your boss simply believes that you’re run down and have a cold. I gave her reassurances I would keep you in bed—which, I will—and take care of you until you’re feeling better. Which, I will.”
“For God’s sake, Mac, you can’t just take it upon yourself to rearrange my life. She’s my boss.”
Green eyes narrowed, darkened. “Remember what I am to you, Tess.”
Master. He glared at her, reminding her. The dark warning tone of his voice almost cowed her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead of backing down, she gave him a baleful look and dared him to do something about it. “I know what you are to me, Sir. That doesn’t mean you get to control my life outside of us just because you control my body.”
He ran a fingertip over his bottom lip as he glared at her. Then his eyes softened, brightened with humor, and he threw his head back on a roar of laughter. “Such fire, Tess. I have to say, I’m finding feisty to be a heady aphrodisiac.”
“Tolerating a controlling force in the bedroom, Mac, is something I can try to deal with. Trying to live a life under the thumb of dominance? I’ve done that, and it was a nightmare. The beginning of the end. I will consider and respect your opinion on things, but I won’t be ruled by them. Keeping my sense of self is imperative.”
The humor went from his eyes. “This is what I want from you, Tess. This is what you need to tell me so that I know where to go with you.”
“Don’t change the subject, Mac. How the hell did you know where I work, and where did you get the number to call Linda?”
She reveled in the fact she challenged him, despite the threat of punishment for insubordination. The mischievous glint in his eye warned of his amusement, and possible retribution. “You put your place of work down on the forms for the club, baby. It wasn’t exactly difficult to hunt down a contact number and make a call.”
Tess scowled. “I could have made it into work. What gave you the right to interfere?”
Very slowly, he sat upright. “As I’ve already told you, what happened last night was on me. Your subsequent care is my responsibility. When you climbed into bed at seven, you were asleep before your head hit the pillow and you were dead to the world. I made a judgment call based on your wellbeing.”
Tess watched her hands vibrate. Anger, nerves? Could she see his point? Could she understand it? A war of emotions battled through her mind like lightning on a dark night—brief, intense flashes that illuminated everything.
“It still annoys me. My entire adult life, I’ve made my own judgment calls, run my life how I see fit. Relinquishing control over my life is not a pleasant ideal.” She huffed out a hard breath before she ran her hands through her hair. He’d been thinking of her. “It doesn’t feel right to berate you for violating my work life when you only had my best interests in mind. But…”
“How angry are you?” Mac asked quietly.
“I’m not angry as such.” Wearily, she flopped back down onto her pillow and contemplated the ceiling. “I’ve been on my own for a long time, made all my own decisions, run my own life. Nobody warned me being with a man would upset the balance of my life. It’s…I suddenly feel like my world has spun off its axis and I don’t know if it’s going to right itself.”
Mac stretched out beside her. It took a moment before he rolled onto his side to face her and rested his palm lightly on her belly. “You feel this way because I phoned you in sick?”
She hesitated, unsure how far to go. Her life story was crap, but maybe if he knew some of it, he would start to understand how his actions had the potential to devastate her. “I’ve felt this way before, a long time ago. When I was a child. After my parents died. Out of my control, in the hands of everyone else.”
She sucked in a deep breath as she waited for questions, comments, anything. When she turned her head, she locked gazes with Mac. He regarded her patiently, the first stirrings of pity in those wonderful eyes, but said nothing. But the hand on her belly rubbed in soothing circles.
“It’s not like I remember them all that well. There are memories, little flashbacks. Snippets of time that come to the surface when I least expect them. I was four when they died. Together, which from what I’ve been told by their friends, was a blessing. Madly in love, the loss of one would have crippled the other.”
Tess blew out a long breath. “My mother was from a rich family. After her father passed away, she inherited his estate as his last remaining heir. She didn’t need to work, and not long after she married my father, she became pregnant with me.
“My father was a security expert, did some work on the estate for the family after my grandfather’s death. That’s how he met my mother. By all accounts, it was love at first sight. Perfect courtship, very short engagement, and five blissful years of marriage.”
For a moment, she fell silent, comforted by Mac’s quiet support. “They attended social functions a lot—balls, charity events, anything that raised money or supported good causes. The year I turned five, the winter was horrible. Snow storms, drifts as high as buses, temperatures down well into the minuses. Ice became a huge problem all over the country for drivers and pedestrians.
“Long story short, they went to a function, enjoyed themselves immensely with friends and associates, and hit a patch of ice on the way home, followed by a tree.” Her knuckles were white in her lap. “They died instantly, both of them. No pain, no suffering. Just here and then gone.”
And I was left all alone.
Mac’s hand stopped on her belly, and then slid down and covered her restless fingers. Grateful for that simple gesture, she sighed heavily. “The estate was sold, and all the contents, aside from a few pieces I was allowed to choose for my own. As per my parents’ wishes, the money was set in trust for me to receive when I reached twenty-five.
“The foster system swallowed me whole. Both my mother and father were single children, and the last of their family lines. Friends of the family didn’t want or couldn’t—I don’t know—take on the added responsibility of an orphaned child. I went through six foster homes by the time I was thirteen.”
“Six?”
She’d known this was coming, she just hadn’t considered how little time she would have with Mac before the truth came out. She was hopeful he would understand, he wouldn’t cast her aside, but the doubt was there.
“A couple of them, I was…incompatible with the families. I was too quiet, too reserved. Another of them sent me back when the parental figures divorced. Two others, the birth children had issues with me. I wouldn’t play, spent a lot of time on my own…” Tess trailed off, her thoughts heading toward the dark times of her childhood.
“And the sixth?”
Everything in her yearned to steer clear of the sixth. If she dredged up the memory, unsuccessfully buried for ten years, it would bring pain. Not just emotionally, but physically through phantom aches. The door would open for the nightmares and the sweaty screaming three a.m. wake ups.
This came through years of reliving the memory and paying the price when her defenses were down at night.
“The sixth foster home,” Tess began with definite care. “They had three boys, born to them. The parents had tried for a fourth child, desperate for a girl. The mother miscarried twice. So they decided to foster, and they chose me, even though I was thirteen and well past the age that most families liked to take on children.
“It was a good family. To be honest, I fit in very well with them. Being outnumbered by three boys didn’t bother me. They treated me nicely after the first few weeks of upheaval in their worlds.” Now the words choked in her throat. She could almost feel her neck swell.
“How old were they?” Mac knew where this was going, she could tell by the tone of his voice. He was a smart man. She’d figured he would put two and two together and get the decimal point.
“The eldest was seventeen, doing well at college. Working part-time around his classes. The middle one studied like a librarian, always with his face in a book. He was fifteen, studying for his exams.” Pain stabbed through her chest. A couple of minutes and she would be crippled, seized by the panic attack. “The youngest was twelve and a bit of a rogue. He could be very playful, but the innocence could turn malicious if he was in the mood.”
Mac’s jaw clenched tight and a muscle ticked in his stubbled cheek. “What are their names?”
Tess’ hands shook. Get it done, finish it, and sort yourself out. “I’ve learned that names aren’t important when it comes to the past. No one stays long enough to be important enough anyway,” she murmured dejectedly.
Pity flickered across his face. He shifted, turned her face to his with a fingertip to her chin, and pressed his lips ever so gently to her quivering mouth. Her eyes welled. “Baby, I plan on being a very important person in your life. No matter how long it takes.”
Tears fell. They couldn’t be stopped. First one, followed by a second. The third, fourth, fifth…and then the deluge.
“Tess, you don’t have to finish this now. I understand.”
“It needs to be finished. It needs to be done now.” So she could close it away again.
“Baby, it hurts you.”
She closed her eyes and leaned her face into the palm he lifted to her cheek—found respite there, steadied herself with that solid connection. “I’ve been hurting for eleven years, Mac. I’m used to the pain.”
The inner struggle he warred with shone clearly on his face. Eventually, he sighed, nodded. “Finish it then. Let the ghosts go.”
They never go away, she wanted to tell him. They never go away, never leave you alone. They haunt your every move, re-enact every nightmare you’ve ever fought.
“I’d been with them for nearly three months when it happened. I was on the verge of finally opening up, coming out of my shell more and more as the days passed, learning to love them, all of them, as my family.
“It was summer. The night was hot and sticky. The eldest son had passed his exams with flying colors, so the family had an impromptu celebration, complete with takeout and alcohol. After the adults went to bed, we carried on. I wasn’t drinking, couldn’t stand the taste of the alcohol, but all three boys ended up sneaking a beer or two.
“They became loud, then rowdy, and ended up being crude and disgusting. I got nervous, I’d never seen them act the way they were. I said I was going to bed,” she said with a hitch in her voice. Even now, she could smell the mother’s flowers in the hot August night, marred by the scent of beer and fear. “I don’t think he knew what he was doing when he pulled the knife on me. The middle one, the bookworm genius. Just a pocket knife, but enough for me freeze up.
“‘Time for a chat with little sister,’ he said. Time for the men of the family to tell me what my place was going to be. And the basic gist of my place was to become a fuck toy—his words—for the three of them, and that it was going to start then and there.”
Mac stiffened, each separate muscle hardened to stone. But he kept his silence, much to her relief, and their hands clasped together. If he’d said a word, made a sound, she wouldn’t have been able to continue.
“I won’t go into massive details. They were cruel, taunting me in drunken voices, using the knife to keep me in line. The eldest one grew erect first, and tried his best to be the first with me. But I was small, too tight, and all he did was bruise me, tear some of…that area.” Tess gestured to her crotch. “The other two tried, failed. And that’s when they got angry.
“They used the knife. Some of the wounds were deep, others superficial scratches. But they took their rage out on me, and when they were done, when I lay bleeding and naked on the lawn, they laughed like loons and staggered off.”
“Who found you?”
“The gardener, bless his soul. He woke the parents and looked after me until the ambulance arrived. I’d lost a lot of blood, was stone-cold frozen from shock, and there was obvious evidence of attempted sexual abuse.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “I was vaguely coherent, enough to tell them everything. There was too much evidence verifying my story, and the boys woke up sick and stupid. They blurted everything at the first mention of the police.
“In the end, I was treated in hospital, kept in there until I was fully recovered. When I came out, the parents said the boys had paid for their mistakes, and that they couldn’t take the risk of me being part of their family again. I was given a small fortune in compensation and shipped back to the foster system. The entire incident was swept under the rug.”
“Bastards,” Mac growled, his hands fisted.
“I stayed in the foster home until I turned eighteen. Then, I left and used the payoff money to get my foot on the property ladder. When my funds clear in a few weeks, I’ll be financially sound for the rest of my life.” A small weight lifted off her shoulders, a very big surprise she hadn’t expected.