up. At least long enough to get her back to Omaha, dump her back on her siblings and then disappear for a while to get over her. Shouldn’t take more than a decade or two.
She shrugged, like it didn’t matter to her one way or another, and lay back, grabbing some material in her fingers at each hip and tugging it down, shimmying as she did it. The motion caused her breasts to bounce a little.
Mac bit back a soft curse and closed his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said tightly.
“You’re not going to look?”
He shook his head. He couldn’t. Not right now. Maybe ever.
He’d already seen her. Twice. In the tattoo parlor and the cab he’d had the environment and the knowledge he was not going to make love to Sara like that, to keep him in check. Now they were alone. In a private condo, with a locked door, on the island, thousands of miles from anyone they knew. There was nothing to keep him in check—except him.
He’d been beat up, shot at and hung over. Never could he remember feeling this sharp, hot, acute pain before. His body strained to go to her. His mind strained to run in the opposite direction. He felt, literally, pulled in two by equal and opposite forces.
“You want to look, Mac.”
He did. He really, really did. He’d caught just a glimpse in the car. Not damned near enough. He groaned in resignation and opened one eye.
“Holy sh…” The words trailed off as his breath left and his other eye opened as well. Wide. “You’re supposed to be sweet and innocent.” He felt, and sounded, like he was strangling.
“I am. No thanks to you. I’m hoping to be thanking you for more than that tonight.” He groaned again. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”
“Just say ‘yes, Sara, I fully intend to make love to you until neither of us can walk’.”
“God,” he growled. “This is ridiculous.”
“Mac,” she said, shifting her legs against the sheet, the motion drawing his eyes. “I want you. I know you want me too.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “I can’t, Sara. Why don’t you get that?”
“You’ve already crossed a line,” she said. She slid her hands, palms down, over her hips and around to the front of her thighs where he was resolutely not looking. “You’ve seen me naked now. It’s not like the rest is much of a jump.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Right. Naked is pretty much the same thing as sex.”
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59
Erin Nicholas
“Good, so we agree.”
“I haven’t even touched you.”
“I know. I wish you would correct that oversight.”
He was being punished. There was a rather long list of things he might be punished for, so that wasn’t the important part. The important thing was realizing if this was cosmic discipline, then getting out of it was probably not an option.
“I’m not going to touch you, Sara,” he said.
“I want you to give me my first orgasm without a vibrator, Mac.” Lord, when had Sara turned into the sexy, brazen siren that was now naked in front of him? Had he known she would talk like this, his control over the past five years would have been tested even harder.
He finally let his eyes roam over her body. He was trying to be a good guy, but there was a limit. The Pope himself couldn’t stand here for this long and not look.
Sara was the epitome of petite. Her tiny breasts would fit twice in his palm and his fingers would nearly touch if he circled her waist with his hands. She made him feel gigantic, manly, protective. And nearly crazed with lust.
Her hips flared only slightly from her waist and her legs were slender. She was short, but her legs seemed to go on forever. At the apex of her thighs was the prettiest thatch of blond hair, trimmed into a perfect V. Otherwise she was perfectly smooth.
“You wa…” Mac coughed and tried again. “You waxed.”
“Hurt too. For all that trouble you could be a bit more accommodating,” she said with a little pout.
He
She shrugged, like it didn’t matter to her one way or another, and lay back, grabbing some material in her fingers at each hip and tugging it down, shimmying as she did it. The motion caused her breasts to bounce a little.
Mac bit back a soft curse and closed his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said tightly.
“You’re not going to look?”
He shook his head. He couldn’t. Not right now. Maybe ever.
He’d already seen her. Twice. In the tattoo parlor and the cab he’d had the environment and the knowledge he was not going to make love to Sara like that, to keep him in check. Now they were alone. In a private condo, with a locked door, on the island, thousands of miles from anyone they knew. There was nothing to keep him in check—except him.
He’d been beat up, shot at and hung over. Never could he remember feeling this sharp, hot, acute pain before. His body strained to go to her. His mind strained to run in the opposite direction. He felt, literally, pulled in two by equal and opposite forces.
“You want to look, Mac.”
He did. He really, really did. He’d caught just a glimpse in the car. Not damned near enough. He groaned in resignation and opened one eye.
“Holy sh…” The words trailed off as his breath left and his other eye opened as well. Wide. “You’re supposed to be sweet and innocent.” He felt, and sounded, like he was strangling.
“I am. No thanks to you. I’m hoping to be thanking you for more than that tonight.” He groaned again. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”
“Just say ‘yes, Sara, I fully intend to make love to you until neither of us can walk’.”
“God,” he growled. “This is ridiculous.”
“Mac,” she said, shifting her legs against the sheet, the motion drawing his eyes. “I want you. I know you want me too.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “I can’t, Sara. Why don’t you get that?”
“You’ve already crossed a line,” she said. She slid her hands, palms down, over her hips and around to the front of her thighs where he was resolutely not looking. “You’ve seen me naked now. It’s not like the rest is much of a jump.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Right. Naked is pretty much the same thing as sex.”
www.samhainpublishing.com
59
Erin Nicholas
“Good, so we agree.”
“I haven’t even touched you.”
“I know. I wish you would correct that oversight.”
He was being punished. There was a rather long list of things he might be punished for, so that wasn’t the important part. The important thing was realizing if this was cosmic discipline, then getting out of it was probably not an option.
“I’m not going to touch you, Sara,” he said.
“I want you to give me my first orgasm without a vibrator, Mac.” Lord, when had Sara turned into the sexy, brazen siren that was now naked in front of him? Had he known she would talk like this, his control over the past five years would have been tested even harder.
He finally let his eyes roam over her body. He was trying to be a good guy, but there was a limit. The Pope himself couldn’t stand here for this long and not look.
Sara was the epitome of petite. Her tiny breasts would fit twice in his palm and his fingers would nearly touch if he circled her waist with his hands. She made him feel gigantic, manly, protective. And nearly crazed with lust.
Her hips flared only slightly from her waist and her legs were slender. She was short, but her legs seemed to go on forever. At the apex of her thighs was the prettiest thatch of blond hair, trimmed into a perfect V. Otherwise she was perfectly smooth.
“You wa…” Mac coughed and tried again. “You waxed.”
“Hurt too. For all that trouble you could be a bit more accommodating,” she said with a little pout.
He
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