The Day He Kissed Her (12 page)

“And?” she managed to ask, as if they were chatting about the weather or the fact that the New York Yankees were sucking huge this season.

Mac’s eyes glittered. He leaned forward and she held her breath.

“I think it’s going to be one hell of a summer.”

Lily exhaled, her body tingling, her heart racing.

He got up from his chair and walked around the counter until he was inches from her. Lily had to crank her head back in order to see him, and her heart took off like a rocket when their eyes met.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The man wanted her. It was there in his eyes, and God help her, but something primal went off inside Lily. Primal and hot and sensual.

She was wet. With just that look, she was already wet and ready for him.

Mackenzie took another step until he was between her legs. He bent over, his hand slipping into the hair at the back of her head, fingers massaging, warm breath on her cheek.

“You look so beautiful in the morning,” he murmured, swiping his mouth across her lips before settling near her ear.

Delicious sensations rolled over her skin and she shivered, breath held in anticipation.

His nose nuzzled just below her earlobe, and she groaned, wriggling her butt in the seat in an effort to alleviate the exquisite torture between her legs.

Mackenzie kissed her neck. He breathed hot breath onto her skin. He trailed soft butterfly kisses along her jaw, teasing the corner of her mouth, as he sank his other hand into her hair, pulling her up a bit.

Lily’s hands crept to his shoulders and she made a sound—an impatient groan—and she felt him smile against her.

Which kind of pissed her off. Since when did Mackenzie think he was in control?

She opened her legs and settled them around his hips, moving her butt slightly so she could get as close to him as she could. And then she grabbed the back of his head, holding him in place as she sought out his mouth. Her tongue darted between his lips and she opened wide, her mouth seeking, tongue thrusting, hips moving in tandem.

She kissed him, long and hard, loving the hot wetness of his mouth. The taste of his coffee, the feel of his tongue.

With a growl, his hands slid to her hips, and in one move, he lifted her onto the counter, his mouth sliding from hers in a hot trail of sensation as he made his way down her neck, to the top of her breasts.

One hand held her in place while the other was already under her pajama top, his thumb against her hard nipple. He glanced up at her, hooded eyes filled with desire, and slowly pushed her top up exposing both breasts, eyes never leaving hers even when his mouth closed over one turgid nipple.

With a groan, Lily buckled. She arched her back and moaned as his hot, wet tongue slid over her breast and when he closed his mouth over her nipple once more, when he began to circle it with his tongue and then suckle her hard, she felt the tension between her legs begin to build.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, writhing in his hands.

Mackenzie moved to her other breast, his eyes still on her. “God has nothing to do with this,” he whispered wickedly before claiming the other nipple.

As he tongued and suckled her breast, his free hand slid down her stomach.

Lily’s eyes widened, and she opened her legs, giving him room. When his fingers made their way over her sex, when he slid a rough pad over her clitoris, she jerked so hard that she had to rest her hands on the counter in order not to fall over.

“You feel so fucking nice, Boston.” His hot breath was near her ear again and she was glad that he wasn’t looking at her. She didn’t want him to see how turned on she was and how close she was to losing control.

He slipped a finger inside her. “So fucking nice.”

And then another finger.

When he began to stroke her, she couldn’t help herself, and she began to rotate her hips, rising and falling as he massaged her clit with his thumb. The pressure that coiled inside her was fierce. It clawed at her insides,
hard
, with steel fingers that wouldn’t let go.

“Mackenzie,” she whispered. But there was nothing else. No more words to describe the sensations racing through her.

“Are you going to come for me, Boston?”

She nodded in wonder. Holy shit. She was going to come for him. Right here in her kitchen.

Her eyes stayed on him as he moved a bit so that he could see her face clearly. Gone was the fear of exposure, the fear of baring herself to him. All that existed was his fingers. His hands. His eyes and his mouth.

He bent forward, brushed his lips against hers, eyes open as he continued to finger and love her with his hands.

When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she gripped his shoulder and cried out, shattering against his him, her body convulsing, her mind blown.

It took a few moments for her breathing to calm down, for her body to stop shuddering, and for her mind to settle.

Mac let her top fall back into place. He kissed the top of her head and pulled her in close, his arms around her, his heat invading her.

“Well,” he said, his voice a little rough, “that was a good start, don’t you think?”

Lily could only nod because she didn’t have control of her vocal chords just yet.

“I have to go out to the site and meet Jake.”

“Okay,” she managed to reply, eyes on the floor, cheeks burning beneath his gaze.

“Hey,” he said gently, forcing her chin up. “I didn’t come here for this. I want you to know that. I really only wanted to bring your coffee.” He grinned, an infectious kind of thing that gave Lily a glimpse into what he must have looked like as a young boy.

It made her heart turn over.

And maybe she should have paid attention to that reaction, but she didn’t. How could she? Mackenzie Draper was utterly charming and totally engaging.

“But there’s something insanely hot about you, and I’m sorry if I got carried away.”

She cleared her throat. “It’s alright,” she said softly. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” She licked her lips. “I really enjoyed mine this morning.”

“Glad I could be of service.” He grinned and swooped in for one last kiss before stepping back. “What are you doing tonight?”

Tonight. Crap. There was something tonight, but for the life of her, Lily couldn’t remember what it was.

“I think I have something…I—”

“Cancel whatever it is. I’ll call you later.”

With one more brush of his lips across hers, Mackenzie left, and it wasn’t more than a minute later that Lily remembered what it was she had on for her Monday evening.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t cancel.

And she had a feeling Mackenzie wasn’t going to like the fact that her Monday evening involved dinner with Blair Hubber.

Chapter 12

“Okay, boys. Let’s pack it up.”

Mac tossed his old, worn, falling-apart ball glove onto the bench and directed the four kids fooling around in the dugout to head back onto the field and retrieve the bases. He watched as the tallest one, Finn Bigelow, put Maggie’s boy into a headlock instead.

He glared at the boy, but he was too busy trying to overpower Michael and his grunts only grew louder. The other two boys took one look at Coach Draper and didn’t have to be told twice. They hightailed it out of the dugout, glancing over their shoulders at Finn.

“Bigelow!” Mac’s voice was sharp, and since he’d been a bit of a bastard for the entire practice, he wasn’t surprised when Finn dropped Michael like a hot potato and turned to Mac, shoulders hunched, a wary look in his eyes.

“Ah, sorry, Mac—” He gulped. “I mean, Mr. Draper. I didn’t…” The kid tossed a furtive look toward Michael. “We were just fooling around.”

“I can see that,” Mac replied. “Now get your butt out there and stow those bases in the shed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when you’re done, I want twenty laps around the diamond.”

Finn looked taken aback and glanced at his cohorts, but they were already heading out to the field.

“Okay,” the kid said weakly and followed Michael and the other two out onto the field.

“Jesus,” Cain said. “This isn’t football.”

Mac shrugged and drained his water bottle before tossing it into the bin beside the bench. “That kid bugs me.”

“No shit. Seems as if everyone was bugging you tonight.”

Mac glanced at Cain and scowled. It’s not like he could deny it. He’d been in a pissed-off mood since noon. He’d snagged Lily’s cell number from Jake’s and gave her a call, thinking a nice boat ride and maybe a late dinner at his cottage sounded really good.

That’s when he’d found out Lily wouldn’t be around this evening because she had dinner plans with Blair Hubber. Apparently, she’d made her plans a week earlier and they couldn’t be changed.

He called bullshit. If Hubber meant nothing to her, then why the hell didn’t she tell him to stuff it?

He’d been pissed. Hell, he’d been more than pissed.

But Mac had played it cool—what else was he going to do? She told him that the dinner was a “nothing kind of thing” and he needed to respect that. But the knowledge that she would be with Hubber tonight worked on him all afternoon. It was the reason for his current state of—“You’re being a dick. You mind telling me why?”

Mac ran his hands through his hair and exhaled loudly. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

Cain gave him a questioning look before he glanced out at the field where the boys were stowing the bases.

“Does it have anything to do your sister?”

“No.” His answer was curt, and most people would have heeded the warning and backed off. But this was Cain. And Cain Black had been in Mackenzie’s business since they were younger than the boys they’d been coaching.

“Then it must be Lily.”

Mac shot Cain a warning glance, which only managed to make his friend chuckle.

“Holy shit. She actually turned you down?”

“Who turned who down?”

Both men turned to the end of the dugout as Jake Edwards jumped inside.

“What’s going on?” Jake asked.

Christ. Jake was going to love this.

“Can we just get out of here?” Mac said roughly. “I need a drink.”

Jake shrugged. “Raine’s out of town with Maggie for a few days, so I’m good.”

Cain grinned. “Yes, our Mr. Edwards is rocking the single life.”

“I don’t know about rocking, but a night out with the boys sounds good to me,” Jake replied.

“Okay.” Cain grinned. “I’ll meet you guys at the Coach House. Michael’s spending the night at Timmy’s, so I’ll drop him and then swing by for a drink. But I’m not staying out all night.”

“Don’t be a pussy,” Mac grumbled.

Mac grabbed his gear and jumped out of the dugout, following Jake back to the parking lot. He tossed his stuff onto the seat and watched Jake pull away. Some loud rap shit blasted from the radio, and with his ever-present scowl deepening, Mac changed the station to alternative rock.

He put the truck into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. He drove a few yards when he skidded to a halt, his eyes on his rearview mirror. Staring back at him, from the dugout, stood a kid.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself.

Liam.

Great. Just fucking great. The kid was going to tell his sister that he’d almost forgotten him at the damn ballpark, and he’d have to listen to her barking in his ear for God knows how long.

Reversing back into the parking lot, he honked the horn and waited for his nephew to make his way over. By the time Liam reached the truck, Mac’s temper was starting to flare because the kid was walking slower than Mrs. Lambert from the Market—and that woman had a bum knee and used a goddamn walker.

“I don’t have all night,” Mac said tersely as Liam climbed into the cab and stowed his gear on the floor.

Liam shrugged but didn’t say anything. He pulled his seat belt into the clip and turned toward the window.

Mac was quiet for a few moments as he navigated his way back out of the parking lot. They pulled onto the street and cruised along until they hit their first traffic light. He stopped behind a shiny red Corvette and cleared his throat.

“You did good out there. Who taught you to throw a breaking ball like that?”

“My dad.”

Mac glanced at the kid. Liam’s voice was soft, with a bit of a tremble.

“He knows his stuff.”

“Yeah.”

Everything about Liam’s posture screamed “leave me alone,” and not knowing how to break through, Mac remained quiet.

He pulled up to his mother’s house, and he saw Becca on the porch. She leaned against the railing and something about the way she looked, there in the shadows, hit him in the chest.

Liam hadn’t made a move to open the door—he hadn’t reached for his bag either. He stared out the window at his mother, his left fist clenching and unclenching.

“You okay?” Mac asked.

Liam shrugged but didn’t answer.

Becca took a step down from the porch, and Liam reached for his bag.

“Good,” Mac said. He didn’t want to kick the kid out, but he sure as hell didn’t know what to do or say. “I’ll see you Friday night for the first game.”

Liam slung his bag over his shoulder and opened the door. He slid outside, slamming it shut behind him, and started up the driveway, his thin frame hunched forward as he trudged toward the house. He walked past his mother without a word, disappearing inside without a backward glance.

Becca watched her son for a few seconds and then gave Mac a small wave before following Liam inside. Mac waited until the door closed, disturbed by the quiet sadness he’d just witnessed.

It was a quiet sadness he knew too well, but that didn’t make it any better—made it worse actually because he knew that the kid was probably scared, confused, and more than likely angry as hell.

He gave a bit to the gas pedal and five minutes later found a parking spot near the entrance to the Coach House. Most of the slots were full, which kind of surprised him. It was a Monday night after all, and sure it was summer, and things were always busier this time of the year, but it was the Coach House. No offense to the owner, Sal, but the guy hadn’t spent a dime on the place in years.