Chapter 15
A lready half naked under the blanket, having come from a late shower in the bathhouse, the night air brushed cool against Lauren's legs. A shiver of arousal swept through her.
After her busy day of hiking and the excitement of seeing the bear, she'd grown restless and couldn't relax.
The warm shower hadn't helped her as much as she'd hoped.
And now, Mac was standing there.
Just beyond the porch, half in shadow, half in moonlight. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders tense, his gaze locked on hers like he wasn't sure if he should stay or turn and walk away.
Lauren stepped forward, one slow movement. The blanket slipped slightly from her shoulder. Mac's gaze never left her.
She stopped at the edge of the porch, close enough to see the way his chest rose and fell a little too fast.
The air between them sizzled. Her heart thudded in her chest, loud enough that she was sure he could hear it. She wanted to touch him. Wanted to ask him why he'd come to her cabin. Wanted to ask him why he hadn't come sooner.
Instead, she reached up slowly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, and let her fingers linger—just long enough to draw his gaze to her mouth.
Mac took a step forward.
Just one.
It was enough.
Lauren's breath caught. Her skin buzzed. Her lips parted.
He was close now. So close she could smell the smoke from his shirt, the pine on his skin, the quiet ache in his silence.
She tilted her head, wordlessly questioning him.
He mirrored her, giving her no answer.
Lauren didn't know who moved first. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was her. Maybe the space between them had finally had enough of being ignored and pushed them together.
Their mouths collided. There was no hesitation, no softness, only hunger. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him like he'd been starving for the feel of her. She gasped into the kiss, and he took it, deepened it, devoured it.
Her blanket slipped to the ground.
She didn't care. It was dark.
Mac's body pressed into hers, solid and unrelenting, and she backed up, step by step, until her spine met the rough wood of the porch post. He didn't stop. His hands were everywhere on her. Her hips, her back, the curve of her neck. He wasn't playing around.
Lauren's fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer. The porch creaked beneath their feet, the night air forgotten, the stars irrelevant.
His mouth found the hollow of her throat, and she arched into him, her breath catching. All thoughts scattered like dry leaves in the wind. She was wild. Reckless. Alive.
Mac's hand slid up her thigh, and she gasped again, louder, sharper. He paused, forehead resting against hers, breathing hard.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, voice rough and low.
"No, don't stop." She kissed him again, harder, deeper, giving him back what he was doing to her.
For her, the cabin behind her didn't exist. The porch was the only place in the world.
Mac's breath was hot against her cheek, his hands braced on either side of her, caging her in without touching her. The porch post pressed into her back, rough and solid. Her heart thundered in her chest. Even the night chill turned her on.
His mouth found hers again, harder this time, more desperate.
Mac wasn't gentle.
He kissed like he meant it. Like he'd been holding back for too long and couldn't anymore. His hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips. She gasped as he lifted her slightly, her back scraping against the porch post, her leg instinctively wrapping around his thigh as she balanced on one leg.
All she had on was a long T-shirt that skimmed the top of her thighs. No panties to stop him.
Somewhere in the distance, an owl called. A breeze rustled the trees. But none of it mattered.
He kissed her like he was trying to memorize her.
She kissed him like she didn't want to be forgotten.
Her fingers found the back of his neck, the curve of his whiskered jaw, the line of his shoulder. Every inch of him reminded her of home and danger all at once, and she marveled at how Mac had walked into her life and flipped it upside down.
With him, there were never any doubts, no red flags, no fear.
As he had his mouth on her, he grunted. The way his body turned from her, she understood what he was doing.
He broke away, looked down, and ripped open the wrapper of a condom. Then, he undid his belt and zipper, pulling out his cock. She panted, watching him. There was such control and confidence in the way he moved.
Then, she was back in his arms. He lifted her leg, hooking his hand behind her knee. Plastered against the front post, she gasped into the night when he plunged his cock into her.
He stretched her, using his size to his advantage, and gave her every inch of him.
A squeal slipped out of her mouth. This was exactly what she wanted. Mac was a hard man. A dedicated father. A strong personality. His whole vibe was off the charts.
Her insides quivered. She held on, afraid of moving away, but there was no way she could lose him because she gripped his shirt, and he held her tight against him.
They were in a position she'd never tried before. A position she hadn't thought possible because she had never been with a man the size of Mac. He could manipulate her into any position he wanted and never struggled a second with her size.
Her confidence soured. He made her feel...normal. Desired. Sexy.
His fingers dug into her thigh, keeping her from slipping out of his grasp. Her body bounced against his with each of his thrusts. An orgasm built, tormenting her.
She honestly had no idea if she held any control over how her body reacted to him. Mac orchestrated each heartbeat pounding in her body. What was happening to them? She couldn't stay away from him.
Shaking and breathless, desperation strummed through her. She couldn't face leaving him. He was everything she needed, and until this vacation, she hadn't been looking for a man. Especially a man like him. A single father. A mountain man.
She needed to see him. She needed to hold him. She needed to tell him.
Her spine curved, and her body spasmed into a full-blown climax. Mac grunted, pounding into her with a force that would've knocked her down if not for the rough pole supporting her back and the strong hands holding her body.
Lost in her orgasm, she subconsciously became aware of him reaching his pleasure with her.
He slowed, pressing her more against the pole, letting his forehead land on the wood above her head. She closed her eyes and let her cheek fall against his chest. His heart raced against her ear.
She whispered, "Mac?"
He moved, taking his weight off her. But she pulled him back and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Are you okay?" His cock slipped out of her.
She hummed in contentment. "You make me feel...wonderful."
Not letting go of her, he reached down with his right hand and removed the condom. She inhaled deeply, knowing she couldn't keep him.
"You should get back to Jetter." She raised to her tiptoes and kissed his lips. "Thank you."
"Lauren." He frowned.
"You're going to make it hard to leave this mountain," she whispered.
His gaze intensified. "I've never met someone like you."
"Same," she whispered.
When he stayed there as if he struggled with what to say, she made it easier for him to leave. She found her flipflops that'd come off when they had sex, picked up her dropped blanket, and her small sack of toiletries she had with her when she walked back from the bathhouse.
Then, she walked to the door of the cabin, turned, and whispered, "Goodnight, Mac. Sweet dreams."
She walked inside and shut the door, dropping all her things. It was the hardest thing she'd ever done.
The only thing better than tonight would've been if he spent the night and she could sleep in his arms. But he wasn't looking for a relationship. She would be leaving in less than two weeks.