| |
EVERYTHING HAD FLED Fred’s mind except how it felt to have this man kissing her, holding her, looking at her with such desire that it was setting her alight. Nothing else mattered. Not the vineyard, not their fake marriage, not Ginger or Sandi or her father or James MacDonald. She didn’t want to think about the past or the future, or consequences, or the problems this might cause. For once in her life, she wanted to be a slave to her senses, to concentrate only on what her heart wanted, what her body craved.
She dropped Mac’s T-shirt to the floor and rested her palms on his chest. She could tell he wasn’t afraid of hard work—as far as she knew, he didn’t go to the gym, but his muscles were hard and defined, and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. She’d never been with a man like this. The two guys she’d dated in the past had been boys in comparison, arrogant and eager to screw her body but not caring about her mind, as alien to her as the celebrities she saw in the magazines and on TV.
But this... this was a real man. He smelled of the outdoors, of mown grass, leather, the rich smell of earth, warmed by the sun. The way he described himself made him sound inexperienced and at a loss with women, but she could tell from how he was touching her, the sure slide of his hands over her body, that he knew how to pleasure a girl. This was no fumbling eighteen-year-old, not even a cocky post-grad—this was a man, with a man’s desires, and Fred shivered from the sheer anticipation of making love with him.
She’d sensed that he was inches away from taking her there and then, on the kitchen worktop, and her pulse had raced at the thought. She wanted to get carried away by passion, to be impulsive for once in her life. She didn’t want to think about what she should or ought to do. Just take me, she wanted to beg, and even though she didn’t have the courage to voice the words, she knew that he heard them, because his hands were gentle but firm, his kisses demanding rather than asking.
He lifted her pajama top, and Fred closed her eyes as he pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor. She stood semi-naked in the kitchen, conscious of the window looking out onto the vineyard and hoping none of the grape pickers had stayed behind hoping for some overtime. She could feel the warmth of the evening sun on her skin, but it didn’t come close to the heat of his gaze.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and she opened her eyes and looked up at him, holding her breath at his awed desire. He cupped her breast and stroked the tip with his thumb, and she looked down and watched the nipple peak, felt the answering shudder reverberate right through her, like a tuning fork tapped on the side of the piano.
“Mmm.” She tipped back her head, and then she felt his hands on her hair, removing the clip so the braid unfurled down over her shoulder. He pulled out the band at the end, and then his fingers were parting the strands, unravelling them until they tumbled down her body in a sheet of silk.
“I knew it would be soft,” he said hoarsely, lifting a section to his nose and inhaling.
Dropping her hair, he kissed her mouth, then up her cheekbone to her ear. His lips trailed down her neck, along her shoulder, then over her breastbone, and Fred inhaled as he bent and closed his mouth over a nipple.
God, it felt good, and she leaned back on the worktop, arching her back to push the nipple into his mouth. He sucked, just hard enough, and she cried out, her body humming.
His tongue washed over to her other nipple, lips tugging, mouth sucking, and Fred tipped her head right back, feeling her hair coiling on the rimu worktop. Mac leaned on her, his weight pressing into her—she could feel the hard length of his erection even through his jeans, eager for her, desperate to bury itself in her warmth.
Again, she felt his hands at the top of her pajama bottoms, but this time he tugged them down her legs, and she stepped out of them. Standing before him naked, she caught her breath as he raked her with his gaze, skimming down her waist and over her belly before lingering at the top of her thighs.
Fred ached for him. Now she’d made the decision to sleep with him, she couldn’t wait any longer. “Condom?” she asked, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t give her a blank look.
His eyebrows rose, then he patted his jeans pockets before looking around, presumably searching for his wallet.
“Coffee table?” she suggested.
He walked into the living room, past Scully, who lay with her nose on her paws, apparently bored with the show, and returned triumphant, opening his wallet. Flipping out a foil wrapper, he tossed the wallet aside and came back to her.
She lifted herself up on the worktop, parted her knees, and pulled him toward her.
“You’re sure?” he murmured.
She nodded and fumbled at the top of his jeans. He didn’t need telling twice. He unbuttoned them, slid the zipper, and pushed down his boxers.
Fred watched, heart racing, as he rolled on the condom. Her mouth had gone dry. It had been a long time since she’d done this, and he wasn’t a small man.
To her surprise, he slid a finger beneath her chin and lifted it so she looked into his eyes. He smiled, and it was a lazy smile, a lusty one, that told her he knew what he was doing, and he was going to take his time, so all she had to do was enjoy it. She let him kiss her, opening her mouth to him, and at the same time felt his warm hand on her thigh. His thumb slid down, stroking between her legs, parting her folds, and she moaned as it found her clit and circled over it, smoothing her moisture through her swollen skin.
“Mac,” she whispered, trying to stop her hips rocking against the movement of his thumb.
“Mmm.” He dipped down again, retrieving more moisture, and she sighed, dropping back onto her elbows.
Unfortunately, as she did so, she knocked against the tap, and cold water splashed into the sink, throwing a shower of droplets over her naked skin. Before she could lift a hand to turn the tap off, Mac cupped a hand beneath the cool water, scooped it up, and tossed it over her body.
She squealed, and he laughed, then bent and covered her taut nipple with his mouth again. Fred groaned and opened her legs wider, and he caught another handful of water, this time letting it trickle over her belly and down her thighs. The coolness contrasted with the heat of her skin, and she felt her muscles tighten inside, almost coming on the spot.
“Please,” she begged, and he took the hint and guided his erection to her entrance.
“Take a breath,” he said. Puzzled, she did so. “Now breathe out,” he instructed. “Slowly.” As she blew out the breath, he pushed forward.
She gasped and clenched, and he stopped, withdrew, then pushed again. Gradually, he slid inside her, half an inch more each time until his hips met the back of her thighs and he was up to the hilt.
Fred closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of him, hot, hard, throbbing, deep within. She’d forgotten how amazing it felt to have a man inside her, to have his hands holding her tight, his lips on her body. He scooped up more water and splashed it over her, then followed it with his tongue, and she moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Jesus,” he said, and he began to move, sliding in and out of her swollen flesh and teasing her more toward the edge with every thrust.
“Oh, Mac...” Her eyelids fluttered open a fraction, and she looked up into his that burned like a blue flame, so intense she thought she might self-combust.
He leaned forward over her, the angle meaning that he ground against her with each movement of his hips, and Fred’s breaths grew erratic as pleasure spiraled. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, lying in the late sunshine, stark naked, a gorgeous man thrusting her to oblivion, with the blinds still open so that anyone could see them should they happen to walk by. But she didn’t care, couldn’t think about anything except his mouth and his hands and his hot hardness inside her, and all her muscles were tensing, and she cried out, her orgasm bursting through her, sharp as the first bite into a chili, and just as powerful.
Mac thrust harder, filling the air with the slick sounds of their lovemaking, and then he shuddered and groaned. Fred lifted her head to watch the pleasure spread across his face as his climax took him, as strong and powerful as her own, by the look of it. His hands were tight on her thighs, his body hard as rock, turned brick-red in the setting sun, the color of Merlot. He was magnificent, and her heart thundered at the realization of what they’d done. They’d consummated their marriage, and even though she told herself it mattered not a jot, because it was just a piece of paper, in her heart she knew that was very far from the truth.
His eyelids fluttered open, and he focused on her. “Wow,” he said.
She reached over and turned off the tap. “I’m all wet,” she complained.
“My work here is done.”
She laughed and tipped up her face as he leaned over her to press his lips to hers. They exchanged a long, sweet kiss, and it was with some reluctance that she watched him straighten.
“Careful,” he said, and withdrew from her, holding the condom until he was free and could dispose of it. Fred sighed, already missing him, expecting him to walk off and get a drink from the fridge or something. But he came straight back to her and, to her surprise, lifted her easily into his arms.
Without saying anything else, he walked out of the kitchen and along the corridor to the main bedroom, carried her over to the bed, and lowered her down.
“I shouldn’t stay,” she protested. “Ginger and Sandi will be back.”
“They’ll be a while yet.” He stretched out beside her, all hard muscles and tanned skin. “Come here.” He held out his arms.
There was nothing wrong with taking a few minutes to relax against that glorious body. The pace of her heart began to slow, and she sighed and snuggled up against him. Beside the bed, she heard Scully sigh as she lay.
“That was nice.” He tucked one arm under his head and used the fingers of the other to play with Fred’s hair.
“Mmm.” She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him. “Did I shock you?”
“A bit.” He smiled, telling her that he didn’t mind.
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize. It was a good sort of shock.”
“I guess it’s not quite how you expected the evening to end.”
He gave a lazy shrug. “A man can dream.”
He’d been dreaming about going to bed with her? It was nice to know he hadn’t just taken advantage of her offer.
She yawned. “I feel all loose and floppy, like a chicken breast beaten with a mallet.”
“Mmm.” His fingers continued to run through her hair, a soothing gesture that made her eyes start to close. She shouldn’t stay here. She didn’t want the girls to come back and find her bed empty. This was nobody else’s business, and she didn’t want them making fun of her, or trying to push her into admitting that their marriage was anything more than a signed document.
Just a few more minutes, she told herself. Then she’d kiss him goodbye and leave, and that would be that.
*
THE ROOM GREW DARK and cool, and Fred felt as if someone had given her a sleeping drug. Her limbs were heavy and refused to do as she bid. Several times, she tried to rise, but each time Mac’s arm felt like an iron band around her waist, holding her there.
The shadows lengthened and the moon rose in the sky, and still she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could only lie there, feeling the race of her heart, listening to the moreporks calling in the trees. She glanced at the clock—it was nearly midnight. Midnight! She hadn’t meant to sleep for so long. Still, though, she couldn’t bring herself to move.
It was only gradually that she became aware of a shape in the corner of the room. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision, but she still couldn’t make it out. It was just a shadow, surely... But after a few minutes, it began to take shape. It was a figure. A man. He stood in the semi-darkness, still and menacing. The moonlight sliced across the bed like a steel blade, moving toward the corner as the moon rose. She watched the silver bar start at his feet and lift up his body like a laser scanning a barcode, up and up, illuminating as it went. Eventually, it reached his face. A straight nose cast a shadow over a wide mouth. His gray hair shone dully in the light. His hazel eyes looked like flat, lifeless discs. Familiar eyes, and yet they weren’t filled with love. They were angry, accusatory, and although he didn’t move, didn’t say anything, fear and panic rushed through her, and she gave a great gasp and sat bolt upright, her heart pounding.
