Captive at Christmas (13 page)

“About the basement. Sometimes when we’re held in these places, certain things about them become familiar, comfortable even. To go from living in…well, there’s no other way to put it than hell…and then making it out of there …” Mac expelled a groaned sigh. “Maybe he just needed that little space to reflect, you know? But,” he paused to brush a kiss to the crown of her head, “he was the only person who could answer those questions so try not to let it get to you, okay?”

How can I not?
she wondered but nodded anyways.

Mac was right, after all. Without Erik around to defend his actions, it would be pure speculation and nothing else.

Still, Hannah knew she would always think about what he created down there and why.

“Hey.” He tilted her gaze upwards, cupping her chin. “Even I don’t understand some of the things I do at times, Hannah. I just do them. They’re entrenched in my body, imprinted to my brain, a set of instructions and rules that I have been trained to follow and complete. It’s only afterwards that I question myself and ponder the reasons for doing what I did and why. But if I sat around considering my actions, the answers might be just as confusing or alarming as the situation had been.

“So, while you
could
spend your life wondering about his reasons for doing the things he did, that isn’t the way he would want you to remember him. I’m pretty sure Erik would want you to think of the good times – normal times before his issues began. The happy memories you guys made together. Don’t you agree?”

With a nod of her head and a resigned sigh, she accepted his statement. “You’re right, I know you are. I guess I have a really hard time letting go.”

Letting go
, she thought as a melancholy settled over her head.

Soon she would have to let go of Mackenzie and that was something she wished she never had to do.

Their time together was coming to an end. They both knew the day would arrive, but Mackenzie Dunlop never banked on losing his heart to Hannah. Perhaps that was the reason behind his awful mood today, the looming finality, the expiration date hanging over his head like a neon sign.

In the main room of the cabin, Hannah cursed, something he hadn’t heard her do in the short time they spent together. It brought a smile to his lips, the first smile of the day. Mac raised a brow while checking his watch. It read four forty-seven pm. What the hell was she up to?

He knew what
he
was doing.

Hiding.

Mac came into the bedroom almost an hour ago, without giving her an explanation. Just parked his backside on the bed and stared out the large windows at the changing mountain scene. Watched as the sun dipped below the summit, canvassing the sky in awesome shades.

Now…now he stared at his faint reflection, attempting to come up with a reason to stay away from her.

Hannah swore again, at the same time as something metallic crashed. On his feet and at her side within seconds, he caught the grate before it fell on top of her. “What the hell are you doing?”

She dropped onto the floor and examined her blackened hands. “Trying to start the fire. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

God dammit. If only he hadn’t been hiding like some idiotic teenaged twit–

“Ah, crap.”

“What?” Mac whipped his head towards her.

“Nothing.” Hannah smiled weakly before taking off into the kitchen.

She was hiding something, but what? He trailed after, peering over her shoulder.

“You don’t need to follow me,” she snapped.

Okay, I deserve that.

Still, he walked behind her, leaned on the counter and watched while she cleaned her hands. Soot turned the water black, but soon it ran clear.

Until it didn’t. The water was pink. Hannah flinched.

“Let me see.”

Any excuse to hold her, touch her, when she looked like she’d rather throw him outside and lock the doors. Sure, their time would soon be over, but that didn’t men either of them had to enjoy that fact. In the meantime, he tended to her tiny wound, showing Hannah Magnus all the kindness he could muster.

Is this what it’ll be like if Kayla hurts herself? Or is she too old for her Dad to put a bandage on her when she cuts herself?

Jesus, he’d missed so much – too much. Skinned knees while she learned to ride a bike. Her first steps. First words.

Fucking God damned first smile.

None of this bothered him before the results of the test, so why now?

Because you
know
she’s yours now. You
know
you’ve missed it now.

“Mac.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry.” Fishing a bandage from the drawer under the microwave, Mac kissed the tip of Hannah’s finger and covered the little cut.

“Mac.”

This time, he met her gaze.

“I just…I need to tell you that I love you, Mackenzie.”

“Hannah,” he warned, a pain he’d never experienced tearing through his chest.

Give him physical pain any day. Shoot him, cut him with a knife, catch him with a deadly hook. But Jesus H.
freaking
Christ, emotional pain was just downright agonizing.

She held her hand up and backed away. “It’s fine. I get it, I’m not as pretty or even as smart as any of the other women you’ve been with. I just had to tell you. I…I couldn’t have you leave without knowing for certain how I feel.” Averting her eyes, she turned and hugged herself.

Who the hell was she trying to kid? Not as pretty? Hannah blew them all out of the God damned water. Not as smart?

Fucking hell, she’d give everyone he knew a run for their money.

In two long strides Mac caught up with her and scooped a surprised Hannah up into his arms, then he carried her to bed. The events to come wouldn’t be all about sex though. Not this time. He planned to show her, with as few words as possible, that she
was
beautiful. First on the outside. That would be the easy part.

Resting on a nest of pillows, dark shimmering hair spread out behind her, Hannah truly was a vision. She could grace the centerfold pages of any men’s magazine and the ceiling of any chapel. Even dressed in a long, shapeless nightshirt, he made out the full rounded breasts with hardened peaks. The curve of her hips enticed a broad and firm stroke from his palms. She was carved into the perfect hourglass shape.

Those cobalt eyes regarded him in awe, as if he could possibly compare to her. One corner of his mouth turned up, knowing exactly what thoughts went through her pretty head. Her gaze travelled down to his mouth. Mac felt the heat of it on his lips as if she touched them with her fingers. Here he planned to show her that she was the most bewitching woman he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing and she decided to turn the tables on him.

Afforded to him by years of conditioning his larger body to move in such a manner, he swiftly rushed away before she could stretch for him. Mac found something that might prove useful to deter Hannah from distracting him further. This was all about her and it was high time she saw herself the way he did. If it took one sad excuse of a man to destroy her confidence, then surely he’d have no trouble giving it back.

A little voice in the back of his head reminded Mac that he might just be undoing all of his work when they parted. For now, he pushed the thought aside and gently bound her hands with a pair of clean socks. He caught her tongue running along the edge of her lower lip in…anticipation? What did she think he was going to do?

Mac had never enjoyed the more forceful sides of sex unless the woman was able to give as good as she got and they were usually fellow soldiers. Even then, he never took it too far. But the look on Hannah’s face coupled with her dilated pupils told him only one thing: she trusted him, no matter what.

“You look at me like you want to eat me alive, woman,” he growled.

Hannah smiled, her lips parting wide. “I can’t help it. You’ve created a monster.” Her expression turned serious then, while she continued to observe him with unrestrained reverence.

“I don’t deserve your love,” he growled.

“But you have it and you always will.”

It felt like this was somehow going to be their very last time together and if that happened to be the case, he wanted it to last. Mac would show Hannah just how beautiful he found her and by the end of this day, she’d damned well believe him.

Once her hands were secured, he attached them to the headboard behind her, effectively restraining her. His lips twitched, fingers itched. “How attached are you to this night dress you’re wearing?” Mac’s voice sounded thick with want.

That’s right, baby. See what you do to me? Just the thought of seeing you spread out before me and I’m hard…aching. You can hear it in my voice, see it in my eyes. Fuck, I want you.

Her soft, pink tongue – the same tongue that did incredible things to his cock earlier this morning – darted out to wet her upper lip. “It’s old, I’ve had it for abou–”

Rrrrrriiip.

Wide eyes, lust-filled eyes, stared up at him. Mac’s hands were filled with the tattered remains of her pajamas.

He quirked a brow.

She parted her lips.

Another fist of need shot him in the groin. “Look down,” Mac commanded, more harshly than he’d intended to.

Hannah narrowed her eyes, forehead creased in confusion.

“Look at yourself. See what I see.”

A deep crimson blush settled over her face. Even with her hands tied up above her head, she tried to cover herself.

“No.” He tore the rest of the fabric, releasing every lush curve she possessed. “Look, Hannah.”

Mac fisted her breasts, the excess spilling between his fingers, rosy nipples standing at stiff peaks. She did as she was told, eyes roaming over the fleshy mounds. Licked her lips.

Oh yeah.
He followed suit.

And then, for her compliance, Mac rewarded her.

Gently at first. Lathing.

Bathing the hardened tips with long, firm and languid strokes of his tongue. She moaned. Hard. Back arching off the bed, she strained to make him follow her lead. Mac chuckled.

“Oh God, please…”

Abruptly, he stopped, staring into her hungry face. “Please what?”

One of his hands glided over her belly, softer than a whisper, until it reached the top of her curls. Softer than satin. Mac suppressed the frantic need to tear off his jeans and bury himself in that incredible pussy of hers.

“Please!”

His mouth teased its way up to her lips. Once there, Mac simply breathed against her tongue, watching as it swept out, attempting to make contact with any part of him. “Not yet.”

To add to this sensory experience, he used a strip of her torn nightdress as a blindfold and secured it over her eyes. Mac covered her face in gentle strokes of his fingers and light touches of his lips. He kissed her high cheekbones. Brushed the pads of his fingers along the curve of her jaw. Paid homage to her soft lips. And when she trembled beneath his touch, panting each breath, he kissed her, holding Hannah’s face between his hands.

Mac wanted to run outside and yell at the top of his lungs:
This is my woman! No other man has had her before! She’s all mine!

But she didn’t truly belong to him. Not for much longer, anyways.

“I love you, Mackenzie,” she whispered when he made his way down her throat. “I love you so much that it hurts.”

I know
, he thought.
And my heart belongs to you, Hannah. Always.

Rather than admitting this to her, like she deserved, Mac used his lips, tongue, hands and fingers to express his devotion.

In the past, no matter what the situation, Hannah always imagined when it came to being restrained and blindfolded, she would be absolutely terrified. But here with Mackenzie she felt safe and surprisingly, quite aroused. The look on his face when he tore her clothing from her, revealing her body to his heated gaze was enough to convince her that this love couldn’t possibly be one sided.