Sweet Burn (14 page)

“Yes,” he rumbled into her mouth, promising things. She had no idea what, but she heard the promise and she liked it. She threaded her hands through his hair, loving how his hands fisted in hers. Kissing and kissing. All that connection she
’
d been running from and now here she was, right back in his arms, and clearly she
’
d decided to stop running. She was tired and hungry for him and damned if she knew if she wanted to jump him right there on the floor or crawl into bed and cry.

So she settled for breathing, loving how his rough breathing matched her own. Oh, this was so good and so wrong. So much
trouble
.

When, long minutes later, he lifted his head, he didn
’
t take his hands off her. This close, she had nowhere to look but into his eyes. Mack had gorgeous eyes, dark brown with a hazel ring. There was heat in his eyes, a warm and sleepy desire, and something else… a something else that scared her.

“Marry me?” he asked.

The two shocking words hung in the air between them. She stared at him and he stared right back, like he was just daring her to say anything but
yes
.

“You land on your head on your last jump?” Her voice was too harsh, too loud, but what was she supposed to say? She wasn
’
t the kind of girl a man married and she
’
d worked damned hard to make sure of that. He didn
’
t mean it.

Say
yes
, a little voice whispered.

No
.

“
I don’
t need you to bail me out of trouble,” she said.

“Marry me,” he repeated, and this time there was no question in his voice. It was all statement. Oh. Oh, no. He couldn
’
t be
angry
, could he? Anyone else would have started in on the yelling and the blame game. He
’
d just bailed her ass out of jail and paid an obscene amount for her speeding tickets. Riding her bike at a hundred miles an hour wasn
’
t safe. She knew that, even if it was precisely why she did it.

“Mimi?” He growled her name.

“You don
’
t want to marry me.” Say
no
and it would all be over.
Laugh and walk away.

“Don
’
t ever tell me what I want.” His rough-tender words made something inside her melt and she didn
’
t
melt
for men. Ever.

“I
’
m not the marrying kind of girl,” she pointed out. Then, what the hell, she went for the kill shot. “I
’
ve slept with half the jump team.”

That wasn
’t quite true, but she
had
slept with several of them.

“You had sex with them,” he said. “But the only man you
’
re sleeping with is me.”

“You slept on my couch.”

“Not anymore. I thought you should be the first to know.” The amusement was back in his voice as he scooped her up in his arms. She wasn
’
t a small woman, taller than many guys and no stick figure. He
’
d hurt himself or get out of breath and have to put her down. They
’
d both be embarrassed.

She wriggled furiously. “Put me down.”

“Absolutely.” He flicked off the light and strode towards the bedroom. There was nothing dignified about this. His arm curved around her, his fingers pressing into her butt. So good.
Shit
.

“Don
’
t you dare drop me,
” she ordered when she couldn
’
t get free.

“Uh-huh.” She smacked his shoulder with her palm and he shifted her smoothly into a fireman
’
s hold. The shriek flew out of her before she could stop it. Her stomach lurched up, following her head, and then she was hanging over his shoulder with a primo view of his butt. Even in the dark, this close there was plenty to see. She slapped it hard.

“This is not dignified.”

“Stop complaining,” he said and kicked the door shut behind them.

The bedroom was familiar territory. She couldn
’
t see much in the darkness, but he reached down, pulled back the covers, and dropped her onto a bed that smelled like Tide and dryer sheets and
Mack
. An outdoorsy, smoky, pine tree kind of scent that got her panties wet. He reached for her ankles and started unlacing her boots.

“You going to answer me?” She
’
d never imagined a man laughing when he proposed. Leave it to Mack to be different. He tugged off her boot and set it on the floor.

“No,” she said, wiggling her toes. God, his bed was a beautiful thing. His mattress was way better than Auntie Belle
’
s, like that Heavenly Bed she
’
d had once in Vegas that had been a puffy cloud of comfort. Or maybe she was just really, really tired. He pressed his thumb down the sore arch of her foot and she moaned with pleasure.

“No, you
’
re not answering me? Or no, you
’
re not marrying me?” He turned his attention to her other foot, sliding that boot off too. Sweet, blessed
freedom.
“Socks on or off?”

“Off.” Laughter bubbled up inside her. He confused her, sure, but she liked being with him.

“You
’
re a hard woman to pin down.”

On purpose, she wanted to tell him. She still felt that sweet-scary tug of
something
when she looked at him. Lying back, letting him take charge… this wasn
’
t her, and yet he made her want to be different. Her eyes were getting used to the dark, and now she could make out his face more clearly than before. He stood there by the edge of the bed, stripping off his T-shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. Watching him was absolutely no hardship, so she rolled onto her side and stared.

“I
’
m staying?” It wouldn
’
t be the first time she
’
d literally had to walk away from a date.

“Please,” he asked gruffly. He folded up his clothes, then padded over to the dresser in his boxers. Pulling out a T-shirt, he tossed it at her. “You want to sleep in this?”

She thought about that for a moment. There was no point in being uncomfortable, though, so she stripped off. He
’
d already seen her goods and she
’
d pretty much decided she was going to break her cardinal rule and have him a second time. She flushed, remembering just how good he
’
d been. She
’
d heard that wedding nights were supposed to be memorable, but she
’
d thought that applied only to the bride. Thank God that hadn
’
t been true.

“I
’
ll pay you back,” she said, her voice muffled by the T-shirt she pulled over her head.

The mattress dipped as he got into bed beside her. “It was a gift.”

“It
’
s not Christmas.”

“Or your birthday.” He didn
’
t sound concerned. She hesitated, then curled up against him. Why not? If she was going for a two-peat with him, she might as well go all in. “Some gifts are just
because
, boo. They don
’
t have to have a reason. And,” he rubbed a finger gently over her lower lip, “they don
’
t come with strings attached either. Since I could help you out, I did.”

He had a gorgeous neck that begged for kisses, so she reached up and pulled him down a little closer. He didn
’
t seem to mind, because he let her do it. Let her press her mouth slowly against his skin. His pulse leaped, so she did it some more, covering his throat with kisses. Unfortunately, right as she was starting to really enjoy herself, the yawn escaped her.

“
You need sleep.
” He dropped down onto the mattress, pulling her up against him so her head was tucked under his chin, his leg over hers. Kissing time was apparently over. “And I meant what I said about waiting.”

Hold on a moment. He
’
d really meant that? They weren
’
t having sex tonight? She suddenly wasn
’
t so tired anymore.

“Are you making me wait?”

“I
’
m making
myself
wait. Because you
’
re worth waiting for,” he said roughly. “I
’
m bad news. I
’
ve been told so by just about everyone I
’
ve met, including yourself.”

“
Boo
—”

“I
’m available. I don’
t need or want a ring on my finger. You
’
re a guy.
” She could feel his
interest
tucked up against her butt. This waiting business was crap.

***

Mack had served Uncle Sam in some damned hairy situations.

He hadn
’
t hesitated in a firefight, relying on his training and his instincts. He
’
d done well, and had brought the same skills to bear when he faced down a fire from the plane bay four thousand feet in the air. A man could only watch the drift streamer for so long before he had to jump in. Had to fight rather than stand on the sidelines and watch. Mimi burned hotter than any fire he
’
d ever seen and he wanted this woman.

So, fuck it.

He had absolutely no idea how she really felt about him, although he suspected that lust played no small part in whatever emotions she possessed. Desire was good. The sex had been some of the hottest of his life, and he was definitely looking forward to a repeat. Like every night of his life for the next fifty years or so. That worked for him. But they couldn
’
t spend every minute in bed, so they had to work out what happened when they weren
’
t burning up the sheets. He
’
d asked her to marry him and, no, he didn
’
t regret it.

“I
’
m playing for keeps,” he said roughly.

A jaw-splitting yawn spoiled her indignant huff. He tucked her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. The sight of her swimming in his T-shirt tugged on something deep inside him, a part that loved the sight of her, all long bare legs and silky skin where his T-shirt didn
’
t cover her. Her hair tickled his nose and she squirmed as she got comfortable—or did her best to torture him by rubbing her butt against his erection. Probably that last option. Knowing Mimi, there was nothing accidental about her touch. She had sex like generals conducted military campaigns. The sex was spectacular, but she didn
’
t let go. Not really. And, the problem was, he wanted her wild and unorchestrated, trusting him completely. He wanted her to come apart for him—with him—the same way she undid him. He just had to figure it out.

“
Your loss,
” she informed him.

She gave one more sensuous, torturous wriggle before settling in. If he hadn
’
t loved holding her and hadn
’
t had to get up in approximately ninety minutes, he
’
d have gotten out of bed for a cold shower. The farmhouse
’
s antiquated water heater would have been a blessing.

Mimi drifted off to sleep quickly. Of course, she
’
d been tired, but he wouldn
’
t have minded her lying there thinking about him some. About having sex with him when she was good and ready to admit that there were two people in the bed, people who came with heads and hearts and feelings. Not just boy parts and girl parts, however much he enjoyed Mimi
’
s
parts.
He didn
’
t need a complicated, baggage-carrying, too-sexy wild child in his life. He
’
d been there, done that, and gotten both the T-shirt and the scars to prove it. He had the jump team and a new mission in life. When he was too old or too broken to jump any longer, he
’
d head back to the bayou and the place he
’
d bought there years ago. That was going to be enough for him.

You had your own wild child years
, a blunt voice in his head said.
You
’
re just afraid to do it again. You know you can
’
t make Mimi change.