Speaking of Love (Perfect Kisses) (13 page)

“Mac, there’s really nothing—”

She whirled around. “Look.” She sighed, sounding exasperated and just a little anxious. “I saw this documentary about a man with a bite that… Just…let me take care of you—of
this
.” She shook her head. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Rick said, not wanting to upset her further.

He did as he was told and sat on the couch. He wished he had a shirt to pull on to be decent, but he wasn’t about to disobey her. For a moment, he thought maybe she was putting the moves on him. But no, that was a ridiculous idea, one he’d already gotten wrong once tonight.

She was back about sixty seconds later, a little out of breath. En route to the couch, she grabbed a blanket off an arm chair and draped it across the back of Rick’s shoulders. He wanted to chuckle at such care but restrained himself.

Mac sat down beside him. “Here.” She took his hand and placed it on her thigh. She was still only wearing her short sleep shorts, and Rick felt something stir in his stomach when he touched her skin. He looked up and watched her lowered eyelids as she concentrated on unscrewing the lid of a little yellow tube then squeezed a tiny dab of creamy ointment onto her index finger.

With her free hand, she picked up Rick’s hand and balanced them palm to palm, his over hers. With the lightest tough, she smoothed a thin layer of ointment over his scratch. It might have stung, but Rick felt nothing but heat surging through his body.

Even after the cut was covered, Mac continued to run a finger over the back of his hand. Just as his breathing went shallow, she pulled his hand up to her mouth, rounded her lips and blew a feather-light stream of air onto the back of his hand.

His body went crazy.

He closed his eyes and exhaled hard.
Mackenzie… Mackenzie
…was all his mind could think.

When he whispered her name, all that came out was the second syllable: “kissss.”

Chapter Nineteen

For about one hundredth of a nanosecond, Mac thought that maybe she’d heard wrong. If she had, it was too late—her body was already in motion. She moved Rick’s hand two inches up and touched it with her lips. The tight roughness of his skin felt amazing.

She heard Rick take in a shaky breath. She kissed his hand again, closer to the wrist this time. Other than another inhale, Rick did not react.

Just like an hour ago.

Part of her stubborn brain knew she had never been a glutton for punishment. She’d already thrown herself at this guy once tonight and ended up with a “you’re welcome,” the equivalence of a pat on the head. So why was she doing it again? Why couldn’t she bear to let him go?

When she felt Rick’s hand slide forward in hers, she knew why.

Like her life flashing before her eyes, she saw him sitting behind his desk at the newspaper, one hand running through his rumpled hair, wearing her favorite tweed jacket. She saw him opening a bag of Cheetos with his teeth and protecting her from a could-be-killer squirrel. She saw the light in his eyes when he told her that she should give a speech in front of the whole town. She saw him hovering above her as they’d wrestled in the snow, and she remembered how she’d felt when he’d kissed her earlier tonight.

And then she knew. It wasn’t just pure, good old-fashioned physical attraction anymore. It was the way he helped her by not helping her and letting her make decisions, the way he trusted her to take care of them both. The way he made her laugh. The way she felt good just being near him. The way he was the best man she had ever known.

But she wasn’t the one he wanted. Hadn’t he already made that clear tonight?

The fact that she couldn’t have him,
really
have him, made her want to burst into tears. Perhaps sensing the oncoming breakdown, Rick leaned in and placed his lips against her forehead. Her entire body tingled with excitement, until she realized that a peck on the forehead was basically the same as a pat on the head. And she’d already had one of those tonight.

She was about to pull away and save herself from any further mortification when Rick’s hands moved to the sides of her neck. She closed her eyes when he kissed her once more on the forehead and then once between her eyes. She was just about to exhale in pure bliss when his arms were suddenly around her, under her, scooping her up.

She gasped quietly as she was pulled onto his lap.

“You’re cold,” Rick whispered, tugging the blanket so it covered both of their shoulders.

“No, I’m not,” she said.

Rick took a hold of one of her hands and moved it up to his own mouth, kissing the back of it just as she had. “You’re freezing,” he said. “The fire is out.” He gestured toward the hearth. It was only red embers now.

Her outer extremities might have been cold, but Mac felt a hot blaze shoot through her body when Rick wrapped his arms all the way around her, drawing her knees into her chest so his strong arms were hugging practically her entire body.

She trembled involuntarily.

“See,” he whispered, and there was a sexy tone in his voice that curled her toes. She shivered again when she felt his warm breath on her skin. “You
are
cold.”

She pulled her cheek off his chest and looked at him. “I’m…not…” was all she could manage to say. “I’m…just…I’m…”

“You’re beautiful,” Rick finished.

That bubbly feeling that had been percolating under her skin all day was now a full-on wildfire. She almost couldn’t breathe. Rick leaned in and touched his forehead to hers. When she felt his arms begin to release their hold around her, she couldn’t believe it. He was about to leave her again. But then he reached up, took her face between his hands and pulled her in.

The soft touch of his lips against hers sent that wildfire screaming through her body. She leaned into him, wanting the kiss to last forever, especially if this would be the last one. So far, Rick had been a one-kiss kind of guy. Mac knew this time she would not be able to handle that.

When Rick’s hands slid down her arms, landed on her hips, and rotated her body around so it was facing him, Mac hoped this was not the end.

He kissed her again, a long, deep kiss that she felt all the way to her spine, curling her backbone like a ribbon. She reached out and slid her hands under the blanket onto his shoulders. She felt his body react to the touch of skin on skin.

His hand was at the back of her head now as he dipped her back, pressing himself to her. As he broke the kiss, they gasped in unison with such force that Mac had to stifle the inappropriate desire to giggle. When she heard Rick’s soft chuckle, she opened her eyes to find him grinning like a sexy angel.

“Oxygen…” she panted, still hanging onto him, “…is good.”

Rick lifted a lightning-fast grin, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her so close that she audibly lost her breath again. “Who needs oxygen?” he whispered.

She didn’t even have time to smile before his lips crashed into hers. With her arms clasped around his neck, she changed her position on his lap so she was on her knees, her legs straddling him. His palms pressed into her back. Her head swam when she was suddenly scooped up again, her back flat on the couch. For a brief moment, she pictured them like this in the snow, when every limb of her body had been freezing cold. She felt nothing but warmth now as Rick paused above her, looking her in the eyes.

She felt wonderfully exposed under his gaze, as if he was seeing deep into her soul to all that she was, all that she had hidden. She felt not a bit of the self-consciousness that she would feel with anyone else looking at her this way. She didn’t want to hide a thing from Rick. She wanted to open herself up completely like she never had before. She wanted to sit up and tell him everything.

Then he was at her neck, and she forgot all about talking. His hot mouth moved from her ear to the tender notch where her neck and shoulder met. Mac shivered in delight and held the back of his head.

When she tried to roll so she could get her leg wrapped around him, they started to slide.

Neither of them fought the pull of gravity as they slid to the floor in a heap.

With Rick’s arms still securely around her, Mac landed comfortably on his chest. They paused to laugh together for a moment, locking eyes again, sharing that wonderful openness one more time.

Mac’s heart pounded. Like a magnet, she lowered her mouth to the side of his neck.

Rick exhaled softly, his fingers tangled in her hair.

When he rolled her over, weighing her down, she completely lost herself.

“Mac,” he whispered over her mouth, his breath was hot and sweet and intoxicating. “Should we go—”

“Yeah.”

“To my—”

“Yes.”

After just one look and the hint of a fiendish grin, Rick rose to one knee and scooped her up. She gave a little gasp, blurry with passion and need and something else that she couldn’t name. He kissed her again, the back of her head cradled inside the crook of his elbow. The next thing she knew, he was climbing the stairs, their mouths still sealed together.

Relief like she’d never known washed over her as her head hit the pillow. When he took her hands, intertwining their fingers above her head, her body arched to meet him. He greeted her with another spine-bending kiss. Her body curved around his, fitting perfectly.

As he swept her hair back and moved to her neck, Mac opened her eyes, gripped Rick’s strong shoulders, and looked up. She could see the top tip of those tall windows, the ones she had admired earlier. Her mind flew back to when she’d imagined waking up in this very bed to that view…waking up with Rick at her side. She grabbed him tighter, sliding her hands lower down his smooth body, hardly believing that this was actually going to happen, just like she’d imagined.

Why had it taken her so long?

Because she was an idiot. A blind idiot for not seeing Rick for who he really was. Everything that had been holding her back all this time came rushing back. His father, his family, and background didn’t matter—she knew his heart now, and how kind and generous and real he was. The way she used to think how completely different they were because of his money seemed ridiculous now. Rick was a hard worker—she knew this about him, too. He wore jeans and no shoes and drove a broken-down truck that he loved. And her own cautious heart that she swore she would never open up again—was all his. She wanted to be inside him, all around him, to be absorbed into his soul.

There was one last thing that had been keeping them apart; it was tickling at the back of Mac’s consciousness, trying to break surface. But that was wiped from her brain the moment Rick slid his hands inside the back of her camisole, holding her shoulders, the front of her shirt moving up a few inches. Mac’s core coiled like a spring as Rick’s mouth moved to her cheek then to her chin, then his kisses went trailing down her neck, pausing at her collarbone. He nuzzled and whispered her name. She held the back of his head as he continued down, his hands holding her hips, his mouth resting on her stomach. She bent her knees, curling around him, her coiled core waiting to spring free.

She was so glad she’d taken the time to shave in the shower, glad she’d heeded Brandy’s advice…

Brandy.

Oh, no.

Mac felt ice flood her veins as that
other
reason came back to her; the last thing keeping them apart. Hadn’t it been just a few hours ago that Brandy had called and confided in Mac that she thought she was falling for Rick? Mac couldn’t hurt her like this, not her own cousin.

Before anything happened with Rick, she had to talk to Brandy.

Rick lifted his head, obviously sensing when Mac’s body went from crouching Bengal tiger to limp slug. “Mac,” he whispered. He looked confused but not detoured. The front of his hair was rumpled from her fingers.

Mac was staring at him, at the face she would picture every time she closed her eyes.

“Are you okay?” He sat up halfway.

“I…” She couldn’t manage to form a complete sentence.

When he leaned in, his beautiful lips heading her way, she held up a hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got—”

“I can’t,” she whispered, but it was mostly air. “Brandy…”

Rick’s eyebrows bent. “What?”

She shut her eyes, and with every ounce of strength, she pulled down her shirt, took Rick’s hand, and slid it off her body.

…

He’d obviously misunderstood her. It was natural, of course. Right then, he couldn’t even remember his own name. His heart was pounding so hard and his body was calling out to hers in a way he’d never felt before. Was it any wonder he was no longer able to understand plain English?

He looked at his hand that she was holding. She had opened her eyes again and was looking at it, too. He leaned in, turned her hand over and kissed its palm, curling his fingers around hers. He kissed her wrist on his way to the crook of her elbow, breathing her in along the way, taking his time. Even though fire was raging through his body, he felt like he had all the time in the world.

When he kissed her neck, he felt her body shift, kind of like she was trying to wiggle out from under him. She had such a huge, spectacularly gregarious personality that he sometimes forgot how small she was, physically. He rolled to the side, just as content to pull her on top. But the second she was free of his weight, she put a hand on his shoulder, halting his forward motion.

“Rick.”

When she said his name, he heard a hitch behind it. Not in the breathless way he’d expected, but in the dejected way.

“What’s wrong?” he managed to say.

When she only sighed, Rick collapsed on his back. He heard her panting beside him, matching his own heavy breathing. He stared up at the ceiling, unable to think outside this moment. Less than a minute later, he felt Mac roll over, her body lightly touching his side.

“We just…we can’t,” she whispered, still panting. “Brandy…tomorrow…it will be okay.” But Rick barely heard her over the pulse pounding behind his ears like a marching band of Sumo wrestlers.

He gave her arm a gentle pat, but he wasn’t in any position to understand her words. All that talk of their advanced platonic relationship and Mac setting him up with someone else—that was utter crap. He wanted to be with her and only her. After she’d told him about being hurt from her past relationship and about what had happened with her father, Rick understood her previous hesitation. But what was stopping her now?

He felt her lips touch his shoulder and her fingers wrap around his. “Tomorrow,” she whispered against him. “Brandy…”

His body tensed at the name. What was going on?

He sat up and stared across the room. Through the tall windows, he could see the porch light of the house across the valley. When Mac made a sound, he looked at her. Her light hair was splayed across the pillow like a snow angel. Every beat of his heart was a crippling ache.

“Are you stopping,” he whispered down to her, “because of Brandy?”

“She’ll be here tomorrow,” Mac said. “She has to know about this.”

Rick shook his head. He couldn’t believe it. Mac had climbed with him all this way…to the very edge…but she was still pushing him toward someone else.

“Are you okay?” she asked. She was still holding his hand in both of hers. He slid it out and ran his fingers through his hair, needing a reason to be free of her touch.

“I’m fine,” he said, his fist running over his mouth. He knew the frustration in his voice was audible.

“Are you sure?”

When she sat up and touched his arm, he moved back.

“I said I’m fine.” He rested an elbow on his bent knee. “You should probably go to your room now.”