Chapter 22
22
M ACKENZIE
I don’t know if anyone has told this man that he makes it easy for me to get in trouble.
He wasn’t joking, was he?
If this were a blinking contest, I definitely wouldn’t have won.
I lower my eyes, wrestling with the uncertainty created by his words.
Looking down, I chase a crumb of red velvet cake with my fork and eventually catch it and pop it into my mouth.
“Speaking of Carmen… Have you at least used condoms with her?” I ask, a bit pissed.
He studies my face.
“Let’s not talk about her. I met her before you.”
“Did you?” I insist. “Use condoms?”
He sucks in a long breath, leans back in his seat, and studies me intently.
“I always use condoms. Does that make you feel any better?”
“ Used condoms…” I correct him, and he stays quiet for a moment before grinning.
“Are you mad at me that I had a life before you?” he asks, amused, his sculpted arms crossed over his chest.
I give him a tiny smile.
“Yes, I am.”
“Why?”
Lifting an eyebrow, he awaits my answer.
“I can’t answer that. I just am.”
“You had a life before me.”
“Maybe.”
I search his eyes.
“You wouldn’t be jealous of Quinn,” I go on.
“Is that his name?” he asks.
I nod.
“You don’t know that,” he comments about him not being jealous. “You have no reason to be jealous of your neighbor, yet here you are.”
A few seconds pass before he speaks.
“Carmen and I haven’t had sex since the night I jumped on your balcony wearing my Santa pants.”
Normally, this would be funny, but hearing him say that makes my eyebrows wiggle up.
“Yeah…” he says in response to my incredulous look.
I mull over his words.
I know what he’s saying. He’s trying to make me feel good, but still.He’d be out there, drinking the night away if I hadn’t run into him this evening.
My mood shifts and I suddenly feel bad that I’m here, and there is no turning back. My emotions are all over the place, their timing so damn off.
A few hours ago, I had no horse in this race––or so I thought.
A few hours ago, I believed I could spend the evening with him, go to his place, have sex, and walk away in the morning like nothing happened.
Fast forward to this moment, and I’m talking about condoms, his life before me, and me being jealous.
It makes no sense.
How are we supposed to have a one night stand and then forget about it when I’m so anxious?
His eyes hover over my face as he notices my worries.
He pushes his chair back and straightens out of his seat while I watch him, hypnotized.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life.
I’m lifeless in my seat when he holds his hand out, waiting for mine.
With my hand in his grip, he speaks softly.
“Come to me.”
I rise from my seat and close the distance between us like he’s put a spell on me.
His arm loops around my waist while my eyes stay locked with his.His chest becomes my home for the next few seconds.
My face tilts up while his tips down.
“I can’t promise you much, Mackenzie,” he says, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “What I can tell you, though, is that you are a good woman, and I’ll do everything in my power to protect you. I don’t want you to feel pain. Or to have your life destroyed because you know me. You don’t deserve that. I lead a very dangerous life…” he says and faintly smiles while taking the tip of my hair and tickling my lower lip. “And it happens that we like each other,” he goes on, his eyes coming to mine again, the strand of hair falling to my shoulder. “There’s not much we can do other than what I just said. I’ll build a wall around you and try to keep you safe. It might not work, and you might get scared. And it might not be worthwhile for you to get too close to me in the end. It’s a risk you need to take. That’s all I can say.”
He rests his hand on my shoulder while waiting for my reaction.
“I know all that,” I say, my voice barely flowing out.
He thinks about something before he talks again.
“I can take you home if you’d rather go back.”
That hurts and also tells me how torn I am.
“I don’t want to go home. But just so you know, I’m out of my comfort zone. I didn’t think we’d get to a point where I’d feel like I had no options.”
A faint smile stretches across his lips.
“You wanted to do it on your on terms, and I waited for you.”
“I thought it’d be easier.”
A thoughtful look slides over his face.
“If it makes you feel any better, it’s not easy for me, either.”
A few moments pass while he pauses.
“I do all the easy things outside this house…” he goes on. “And you know why? I don’t care much about anything outside this place. Whatever happens happens. Here is different, though. It’s like a century of history scrutinizing me from inside every nook and cranny. This is where I thought I’d introduce a woman to my parents. My family had always been very traditional, and the collective thought was that a man would find a suitable woman, propose to her, and start a family. That was it. Not much existed beyond that. Like it or not, that was my story. But life had different plans, and my parents’ passing changed a lot of traditions in this house. The fact that you’re here with me tonight is a miracle. The idea that you, in a way, have a history similar to mine makes me shudder. And I’m not trying to serve you a pickup line,” he says in response to my stunned expression. “I’m aware of the differences between us,” he continues. “I lost my parents later in life. But the way we both see life is very similar. A wide range of emotions has shaped how we perceive things. Before you, things could never be all right, and no one got me. You do get me, even though you rarely acknowledge it. But, that doesn’t mean anything,” he says. “It’s refreshing to know I’m not alone. It doesn’t mean that we can walk this path for long.”
I open my mouth to protest, yet he presses his forefinger against my lips.
“For one, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. As I have said before…” he murmurs, his eyes sliding to my lips. “You might think that boy, Quinn, was the worst thing that could happen to you. You have no idea what monsters lurk out there. So, let’s not kid ourselves and get into something we might not be able to pull out of. And trust me, a life with me could be the end of anything good you believe in.”
MACKENZIE
Historically speaking, moments like these have made empires crumble, countries get pilfered, and royal heads roll off chopping blocks.
This is staring evil in the eye and still saying yes to it because of a chemical bond stronger than anything I’ve known or illogical emotions shutting down my brain.
Life is inviting us to a big banquet with delicious food and goblets of ambrosia, yet the instructions couldn’t be clearer.Some of the food and drinks could be poisoned, and the rest might make us feel like royals.
And we say yes to it because who doesn’t want a bit of excitement in their life?
“So, which is it? Are we staying, or are we going?” he asks, holding my hands.
“We’re staying,” I say, my voice shaking.
“Great,” he says quietly before leaving a kiss on my lips. “Let’s go upstairs.”
He points to the table.
“We’ll finish this later.”
He takes my hand and walks me through a long corridor that smells like fir trees and cinnamon.
The house is spooky, considering that we are the only occupants at the moment. Polished steps creak beneath our feet as we climb the stairs to the upper level.
A large window at the end of the corridor offers the view of a frozen night.
Despite the unfortunate circumstances, the annotations, and the warnings, this is a beautiful evening.
Cold, quiet, and festive.
He pushes a door open, and a large bedroom expands in front of us. The main piece of furniture is a king size bed, which is perfectly made and looks inviting.
A prickle of fear travels down my spine.
I never thought I’d be so nervous.
He glances at me and gestures at an arched door in front of us as if reading my mind.
“Would you like to use the shower first?” he asks. “I can use the other bathroom,” he says, casual about it, although something tells me he is nervous, too.
This is how I imagined a moment like this.
Doing it with someone who matters. And doing it for the first time.
With him, though.
With Callan…
It’s way more than being nervous about it.
He reads me so well that he can singlehandedly dial my emotions up or down as he sees fit.
It’s not only about how close he is to me.
He can make me feel pretty comfortable and knows how to address my concerns.
The only thing he cannot do is give me the nice, tidy reassurance of certainty.
If anything, he has been truthful with me and taken away that option out of caution.
So there’s that.
He is a stranger to me now.
And he will need to be a stranger tomorrow morning.
And the day after if I’ll see him again.
“Yes. That’s fine with me,” I say.
A knowing smile tilts his lips.
“All right,” he drawls. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he adds before pulling away from me and exiting the bedroom.
I still have the view of his broad shoulders in front of my eyes when the door across the corridor opens and closes, and I’m alone in the vast bedroom.
A slow breath enters my lungs before I slowly push it out.
My eyes wander around the room and the large windows overlooking the lawn.
Inching closer to them, I look outside.
What a beautiful view.
Still. Painted in pure white. With sparkling lights across the trees.
It's a beautiful place if not for the memories kept in the walls, which make it unlivable for him.
I try to see myself living in a place like this and find it difficult.
It’s like the house comes with certain expectations, and rightfully so, since it has such a long history.
Reluctantly, I return my focus to the room.
No sound comes from across the corridor, but he must be in the other bathroom, getting ready for me, so I make a beeline for the shower and prepare myself for our first night together.
The spacious bathroom comes with a large glass booth, a toilet, a sparkling sink, a vanity, and shelves stocked with luxury monogrammed towels.
Everything I need is on the counter and the shelf inside the shower.
I shed my clothes and step in.
The water runs over my body for a few good minutes while my hair is protected from the humidity by a towel wrapped around my head.
I walk out wrapped in the fresh scent of some fruity body wash I found on the shelf, run a clean towel over my skin, and pick up a bathrobe from the same shelf.
It’s too big for me, but it’s soft and warm.
I put it on, tie the belt, and release my hair.
My mane tumbles down my back, the tips still curling from the humidity despite my efforts to protect it.
I run a hand through my locks and check myself out in the mirror, still unsure whether I’m ready for this.
I’m so used to always having everything under control that this seems like a paramount challenge.
Taking a chance.
Relinquishing control.
Doing something without thinking about the long-term consequences.
My thoughts get cut short as footsteps ring in the other room. Squaring my shoulders, I exit the space and find him in the bedroom.
The curvature of his muscular back catches my eye first before my gaze hovers over his sculpted arms.
Stare tipped down, he checks something on his phone with a towel wrapped around his waist, sitting low.
My heart stumbles, pacing like crazy.
Tattoos climb up his flank, and his expression seems carved in stone.
Judging by the look on his face, the news is not good, yet without flinching, he mutes his phone, peels his eyes away from it, and tosses it into a drawer.
From the same drawer, he retrieves a bunch of condoms.
“Do you like them a certain way?” he asks.
I don’t know how to respond to that.
“Condoms? I don’t…” I mumble.
He lifts his gaze to me, waiting.
“Um… No. Any kind is fine.”
He puts them on the nightstand and inches closer.
“You seem nervous,” he says, sliding his index finger below my chin and tilting it up. “Why are you nervous?” he murmurs, his eyes glinting and diving deep into mine.
My list of reasons is as long as my arm.
Right now, I feel like I’m collapsing inside.
At the same time, everything about him turns me on.
His bare chest, dark tattoos, and lips that only slightly curve.
Our discussion about condoms, although I’ve never used one, and I’m not sure how I’ll react to one.
I’m talking a big talk, but the reality is different.
I haven’t had many men. Quinn was my second. So overall, my experience has been scarce.
The kind of sex I had happened in a safe space delineated by trust.Even when illusory, having trust in the outcome helped me a little.
“I have zero experience with condoms,” I say abruptly, and his lips part into a charming smile.
“You won’t say,” he replies, amused. “You’d rather opt against them?” he probes.
“Are you okay with that?”
“If you are… Yes.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Of what?”
“I might get pregnant.”
He looks at me, mystified, before a lazy chuckle climbs up his chest.
“That wouldn’t be a problem. I’d welcome an heir any time if you were okay with it.”
My eyebrows are about to fall off my face.
“Anything else?” he asks, brushing his thumb across my jawline and warming my skin. “What other worries do you have?”
“You’ve been quite the player lately.”
He shakes his head in amusement.
“Appearances can be misleading. What about you?”
“You’d be my third man.”
Incredulity slides over his face.
“No fucking way. How come?”
“I’m picky.”
He laughs, his face lighting up every time he finds something amusing.
“So I’ve made the cut, you say?”
“I think we’re past that point,” I retort.
“Why?” he asks, tipping his eyes down and sliding his fingers inside my neckline before slowly opening my bathrobe.
“You’ve become unavoidable.”
“Hmm…” he says, distracted, running his hand down.
The belt falls to the floor while my bathrobe slides open, and he has a full view of my naked body.
Smooth, clean shaven pussy, and sleepy breasts.
His smile withers away.
“This is what we’ll do…” he murmurs, dragging his hand from below my navel to my chest.
He cups a breast, and my legs shake.
“We’ll do this…” he says. “I won’t use a condom tonight. And just so you know, I haven’t been the player that you made me to be. I’m a grown up man who knows how to protect himself. You don’t have to worry about that. If you’re afraid of getting pregnant, we can discuss that.”
He pauses.
I say nothing.
“Okay,” he says. “The other thing is, I’ll do what the other two men have failed to do for you.”
He slides his hands inside my bathrobe and pushes it off my shoulders.
It hits the floor with a quiet thud.
His hand goes from the root of my neck to my chest and my stomach.
And then my lower stomach.
And then his fingers brush my clit, and my center warms and drips with wetness, soft pulsations racing.
“I also won’t fuck you against the wall or bend you over the table. I won’t make you sit on your knees and roll your lips around my dick or pull your hair hard and pound you from behind.”
Every word paints a picture in my head, and every inflection of his voice makes me more impatient.
“But… I will make our first time memorable, yeah?” he says, having one hand between my legs and one cupping my face.
My breaths leave my lungs in a ragged line.
“I’ll make love to you tonight…” he says, watching with satisfaction how I slowly melt. “We won’t be destroying any furniture this evening. The only thing we will be destroying is the past so we can replace it with better memories.”
He splays his hand over my temple while I press myself into his touch, slowly closing my eyes, enjoying the pleasure building up.
“That’s my girl,” he says, lowering his hand and wrapping it around my neck while slowly pushing his fingers down my seam and touching the pulsing flesh between my thighs. “You will love this. I promise you,” he says, sliding a finger in.
I gasp, a victim of his touch, the pleasure buying my silence. His middle finger slides in and out, my heat throbbing around his strokes.
“We can put your hand on me…” he says.
I open my eyes while he lowers my hand, andI reach inside his towel.
Plump veins push against my touch, and a deep fire blazes in his eyes while I stroke him.
“Now you know why I didn’t want you to touch me,” he says, enjoying my hand around his hard flesh.
I run my thumb over the chiseled tip, break the drop of wetness, and spread it across his length.
With a body carved from hard muscles, thick tension, blood and flames, and skin tingling beneath my fingertips, he narrows his eyes at me, his smooth, controlled self getting away from him, while a beast of a man starts breathing heavily through his sensual lips.
One long thrust comes through my fist before he pushes out a sigh of pleasure.
“You’ll have every inch of that inside you before we’re doing anything else.”
With a flick of his hand, he removes his towel and asks me to wet his erection.
I lick my fingers and close them around him.
“Now do what you’ve been doing…” he murmurs before crashing his lips onto mine, almost cutting off my oxygen.
My hand goes back and forth without finesse while he opens my lips, and ravishes my mouth.
When I inhale again, the room spins with me, and my legs feel like melted butter.
His lips trail down my neck while his hands squeeze my boobs, pinch my nipples, and play with me as if I belong to him.
He slides one hand around the back of my thigh, and the floor pushes away from me as he lifts me up and lays me down on pillows.
His erection breaks free from my hand while he hovers over me, spreading my legs open.
Grabbing the root of his hard cock, he presses the chiseled head against my center and enters me slowly and firmly until I feel him deep inside me.
“Didn’t I tell you…? It took a fucking while, but you’re mine now,” he says, his hips moving teasingly slow. “Now you’ll come while I kiss you.”
He smiles while I look at him, pinned down by his force and the dark edge in his eyes.
It all feels like a dream.
Him on top of me, the swirl of irresistible pleasure in my body. The thought that I’m here, my fears forgotten.
Although one still lurks in the back of my mind.
What if I won’t be able to pull away from him?
He lowers his mouth to mine, and we kiss as slowly as we fuck, his free hand trailing down my body, his fingers threading through my hair, his thumb pressed into my neck.
He moves in and out of me, offering me a promise. A reality. A tie created by the mere submitting of my body to his will.
He moves deeper while I'm trapped, and the more he does it, the more I think about the end.
Maybe this is everything we’ll get.
A fire grows in my belly while he brings me to an upward slope.
His fingers move over my clit, giving me a delicious nudge, and our kiss becomes dirtier, moans echoing in my chest.
My arms lock around him, my nails marking his back.
It takes a whole other level of artistry to do what he is doing.
Slowly increasing the cadence of his thrusts, he turns the pleasure between my legs into a raging fire.
Every thrust takes me closer before he stops, breaks the kiss, and looks at me with heavy eyes.
“You’re ready…” he says, a smile tilting his lips. “You are so fucking ready.”
And so is he, throbbing and twitching between my legs.
A second passes before the edge becomes too hard to resist, and I loop my arms around his neck like ropes of desperation, practically begging him to make me come.
Granting my wish, he rams into me until I vibrate with unbridled bliss.