Baddest Bad Boys (25 page)

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Authors: Shannon McKenna,E. C. Sheedy,Cate Noble

Tags: #Fiction, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors), #Erotica, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Adult, #Suspense, #Anthologies

BOOK: Baddest Bad Boys
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And she could more than handle making love with him…forever.

 

She straightened her shoulders, took a seat at the counter, and faced her biggest challenge. Bravado would have to do what her aching soul couldn’t.

 

“Hey,” Mac said by way of acknowledgment. He’d made coffee, and what looked like pancake batter lay pooled in a bowl near the stove. He poured her a mug of coffee, set it in front of her, and went back to the stove.

 

“Thanks.” She took a life-affirming drink, and watched him, impressed by the easy, agile way he moved around the kitchen, his every movement fluid and economical. As if this morning-after was like every other morning-after. Tommi’s hands tightened around her mug, and she twisted her lips. Mac picked up the bowl and stirred the batter, managing to look irritatingly, excitingly masculine in the process. “Multiple orgasms and he cooks, too. What more could a girl want?”

 

He glowered at her. “Don’t.”

 

“Don’t what? Talk about sex on an empty stomach?” She eyed him from over the rim of her mug, ignored the way her stomach fluttered looking at him. His hair still damp from the shower, he wore soft overworn jeans, and an even softer black cotton sweater. Even with angry lines etched on his forehead, he took her breath away.

 

“Don’t play the hard-nosed harlot. It doesn’t suit you.”

 

“Oh? What does suit me, Mac? Other than my birthday suit, of course.”

 

He looked as if he had a mouthful of rivets. He opened his mouth, closed it. He took an obvious deep breath before he said, “You want anything besides pancakes?”

 

She laughed so she wouldn’t cry. “Ah…the deft, oh-so-masculine approach to the emotionally charged moment. Change the subject.”

 

He was around the counter in a flash, and she was yanked from her stool in the flash after that. “I am not changing the subject. I just have no idea what to say.” He looked away from her, and when he looked back, his eyes were stark. “Because I don’t know what the hell I feel. Okay?”

 

8

 

Tommi, speechless, could only stare into the frustrated face of the man holding her up against his chest, so close to his face she could smell the peppermint on his breath.

 

He loosened his grip but still held her, his voice quieter when he said, “And your lousy pretense at playing the wicked witch of the north doesn’t help. You got that?” He glanced away, looked as if he wanted to tear out his own tongue.

 

When her heart found its rhythm, Tommi found her voice. “I got it, Mac. Now can I have my arms back?”

 

He let go of her arms as if they were electrified, and his eyes met hers, hot, startled. “Jesus, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

 

“No. Reid did.” She rubbed her bruised arms, looked up at him, unsure what her eyes were saying. “I don’t think you’d ever do that.”

 

His gaze met hers squarely, and he raised her chin with his knuckles. “No, I wouldn’t.” He used a thumb to stroke her cheek, fixed his eyes on hers.

 

She saw the heat settle into his glance, heard his breathing heighten, felt the need emanate from his lean body. Her own body’s quivering answer.

 

No, Mac would never hurt her…

 

Not physically, anyway.

 

She pulled her face from his grasp, ignored the charged air sizzling between them, the invisible tug of his powerful masculinity.

 

He stood tall in front of her, a wall of male energy and self-assurance. “We will have that talk. But not now. Now we’re going to eat. And we’re going to keep our hands off each other for the next few hours.” He grimaced. “Which, you should know, won’t be easy.”

 

She looked down at him, the thickness of his erection evident behind the soft denim.

 

“Then, when this lousy rain lets up,” he went on, “we’ll go to the hot spring.” He leaned down and brushed a feathery kiss over her mouth. It made water of her knees. “Where I will commence my efforts to surpass all that has gone before.” He paused, then added, “After that…we talk.”

 

Tommi stared at him, thought about holding her ground, but wasn’t sure where it was. “Who put you in charge of the agenda?”

 

“You don’t approve? I could have sworn it was you who wanted sex in the hot spring. I remember your instructions as very specific—and explicit.”

 

He had her there. Still…“This is getting confusing, Mac. I don’t know if I—”

 

He shook his head, touched her mouth. “Right now, you don’t have to know, and you don’t have to think—about anything.” He took a step away, put his hands in his pockets, but kept his eyes on her. “We’ve ended up here with a few days to spend together.” He paused, for a moment looked uneasy. “Me? I entered into this arrangement of ours with certain assumptions. Maybe wrong, maybe right. I’m betting you did, too. Now I’m suggesting we use the rest of our time together to test those assumptions.”

 

She eyed him, looking curious but guarded. “That’s more words than you’ve strung together in all the time I’ve been here. Very…boardroomish.”

 

He didn’t smile. “I like to approach problems logically.”

 

“Me being the problem?”

 

He took a moment to mull over her question. “Yes.”

 

“And I should be flattered by that?”

 

He smiled, ever so softly. “Yes, I think you should.” He took the two steps necessary to stand directly in front of her. He didn’t touch her. “Can we eat now?”

 

Food was suddenly the last thing on Tommi’s mind, but she nodded.

 

“After that, if you don’t mind—I intend to keep my hands off you by keeping them busy making a couple of phone calls, then going through some files. You okay with that?”

 

“I think I can last a few hours without you inside me, Mac. You okay with that?” She looked at him from under lowered lids.

 

“Low blow, sweetheart,” he said and grinned. “But given I’m the guy who suggested the downtime, I’ll consider that loss as my temporary purgatory. Temporary being the operative word.”

 

 

 

Reid inched his way along the deserted, damn near impassable road. Borg hadn’t exaggerated; it was one long river of a mud hole, and it got worse the closer he got to the lodge. Reid hadn’t intended to drive up to the front door, but he’d sure as hell planned on parking closer than what he guessed was two miles away.

 

Suddenly the front wheel of the big ATV dropped into a goddamned lake in the middle of the road.

 

Shit! After several tries he managed to reverse his way out, but there was no doubt this was as far as he could risk going.

 

Frustrated, he tapped his fingers on the leather-wrapped steering wheel. He’d have to leave the truck here. He backed up to where he could turn it to face the way he’d come, then reversed as deep into the bush on the side of the road as he could. Satisfied the vehicle couldn’t be seen from the road, he went back to wipe out the gouges and tire tracks the Expedition had left near the washout and tossed a few cedar boughs over them for good measure.

 

Back at the truck, he grabbed a backpack from the front seat and retrieved the rifle and ammo from the back.

 

If he had to walk, he’d better get started. He needed to figure things out, make certain he had plenty of time to get back.

 

He didn’t want any screwups.

 

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and headed down the path, hoping he wouldn’t have trouble getting rid of the new boyfriend along with Smith. No way did he plan on having some rich schmuck live long enough to play the hero and tail him back to the truck.

 

 

 

Around three o’clock the rain stopped, but when Mac looked at the leaden sky, saw the turbulent clouds scudding over the ocean’s surface, he knew the break was again temporary. This far-north rain came damn near nonstop this time of year.

 

He tossed the file he’d been reading onto the pile beside his chair. With Tommi curled up on the sofa across from him, he’d had a hell of a time keeping his mind on business for more than sixty seconds at a time. When she’d dozed off half an hour ago, her book open in her lap, her golden hair a wild curtain over her eyes, he’d given up, given in to the need to simply look at her and listen to the sound of her quiet breathing, while his own lungs constricted to the point of pain.

 

He wanted her. He ached with wanting her, and he knew himself well enough to know a few days of her wouldn’t be enough. That air-kiss scenario she’d outlined? It wasn’t going to happen. Maybe he didn’t trust her, but maybe he could live with that. And maybe the Pope was an undercover Hare Krishna.

 

But maybe, just maybe, he could love her enough for both of them.

 

The oxygen evacuated his lungs as if attacked. The love word had a way of doing that to a man, showing up like a SWAT unit in riot gear to lay waste to his life and logic.

 

He rubbed his chest, got to his feet, and turned the L-word over in his mind. There were a thousand reasons why Smith wasn’t the woman for him, but right now he couldn’t think of one of them. It had to be the sex.

 

The SWAT thought reminded Mac he had something to do before he and Tommi went to the springs. He’d walked the perimeter of the compound twice today, then walked the road again. Two miles out there was a water-filled crater the size of a semi, with no sign of tire marks on either side. A guy would need a Hummer to get through the mess. Considering even a Hummer was a possibility, he planned to be ready for it.

 

He padded toward the stairs as quietly as possible, but the movement woke Tommi.

 

Her eyes still closed, she stretched, a languid stretch that made the tee she was wearing tighten across her unbound breasts. She opened her eyes on Mac, blinked slowly and asked, “Where are you going?”

 

“You always look so damn good when you wake up?”

 

She stretched again, smiled a bit, and sat up. “You always answer a question with a question?”

 

“I’m going to get my rifle.” It wasn’t as if he could hide the damn thing on the way to the pool.

 

She straightened, instantly alarmed. “What for?”

 

He gestured with his chin toward the dark day outside the window. “If we’re going to the spring, I thought I’d take it with me. There’s always a risk of wild animals.” The lie sat on his tongue like sugar. The way he saw it, what she didn’t know wouldn’t worry her. He didn’t like her to worry, and he didn’t bother to think why.

 

“You didn’t take it yesterday.”

 

“Forgot. Shouldn’t have. I try not to make the same mistake twice.” He stopped on the first stair. “I’m also going to get some towels. Unless you’ve changed your mind.” He raised a brow. Waited.

 

Tommi hesitated. Maybe she should change her mind. Maybe she should stay here with her nose in a book. Then she looked up at Mac, still as a panther on the lower step, his hand on the newel post.

 

The hot spring.

 

Pure, warm water surging over naked flesh, erotic, skin-softening steam, and the scent of cedar boughs heavy with rain. The textures, the silkiness of Mac, deep, deep inside her. Four days. She had four days. She’d done her reality check, revisited the rules—all sex, no expectations. She’d be a fool if she didn’t take all of Mac Fleming she could get. “No. I haven’t changed my mind.” She got to her feet. “I’ll get a heavier sweater.”

 

A few minutes later they were on the front porch, Mac with a rifle in his hand, and her with a knapsack strung over her shoulders, full of towels and goodies she’d raided from the kitchen.

 

When he put his arm around her and leaned to kiss her, she raised her mouth to his, eagerly, avidly, her body already overheated thinking of what they’d be doing in less than half an hour.

 

Mac scanned the lodge compound, hiked the rifle over his shoulder, and took her hand. They headed for the path.

 

From the far edge of the clearing, Reid watched them duck into the trees. He couldn’t believe his luck. They were out in the open, exactly where he wanted them. He gave them a five-minute head start, then darted across the open compound.

 

 

 

Mac led the way as he had before, this time holding Tommi’s hand. They moved along the path in silence, Mac concentrating on missing as many snags and puddles as he could, while Tommi’s attention centered on keeping pace with his long strides.

 

A few minutes in, Mac stopped in the middle of the path, so abruptly she collided with his back. “What—”

 

“Shh!” He shook his head, put a finger against her mouth, and stared back in the direction they’d come, listening intently.

 

Tommi’s heart pounded, and she put her hand over it. She listened, too, but didn’t hear a sound—not even rain.

 

Suddenly Mac cursed softly. “This way!” He dragged her roughly off the path and into the heavy underbrush. There, he put his hand on her shoulders and forced her to her knees. When she opened her mouth, he shook his head again, whispered, “Stay down and stay quiet.”

 

For interminable minutes, they crouched deep in the bush.

 

When Tommi saw who came down the path, her lungs seized. She clapped a hand over her mouth, felt the cold air against her fear-widened eyes. Every muscle in her body tensed. When he stopped to look around a few feet from where they’d taken cover, she clamped her teeth together to stop them from chattering.

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