I’m Yours_Sweetbriar Cove_Book Four Read online

  “I’m good with my hands, remember?” she teased, sliding her cold palms under his coat and sweater, making him flinch with the touch. He caught her wrists and pulled her hands away, catching them behind her back as he kissed her again.

  This time, he took it slow.

  Easing her mouth wider, sliding his tongue deep inside—Jake tried his best to go slow, even as his body demanded it all. He wanted to remember every moment, every breath. Mackenzie seemed to melt in his arms, swaying closer as he teased kisses along her jaw and down the curve of her neck. He peeled her sweater over her head, leaving her in just a thin camisole and bra. Her skin was flushed, not just her cheeks but the freckled surface of her chest too, and he bent his head, impatient to lavish every last freckle with the attention she deserved.

  “Wait.” Mackenzie broke away. “Shouldn’t we . . . you know, talk about this?” She gulped, and Jake could see the nervousness slip into her eyes.

  “Sure.” He took her hand and began to kiss his way up her arm. “You talk. I’m all ears.” He nuzzled in the crook of her elbow, and Mackenzie let out a breathy sigh.

  “Jake, I’m serious,” she said. “What are we doing?”

  Her body was so close, so tempting, but he dragged himself back. She was worried, and he didn’t have to ask why. This was unchartered territory for them, the brave dawn of something unknown, but he knew in his bones that there was nothing to be afraid of.

  “It’s OK,” he promised, looking into the eyes he’d seen a thousand times, but never like this. “Whatever happens, it’ll be alright. It’s us.”

  He didn’t know any other way to explain it, the feeling of total rightness that wrapped around them, making the real world seem like a million miles away. But maybe Mackenzie knew exactly what he meant, or maybe the tension between them was too much to resist, because either way, he saw her face change—from questioning to something certain.

  She kissed him, and this time, she didn’t stop.

  * * *

  Mackenzie tumbled backwards onto the bed.

  What had happened to learning from her past mistakes, being older and wiser this time around? She knew all the reasons why this was a very bad idea, but somehow, pesky things like “sense” and “logic” didn’t seem to matter at all, not with Jake’s mouth hot on hers, and his hands sliding under her clothing, skimming over her skin and making her moan at the touch.

  She wanted him. And for the first time in her life, he was right there for the taking.

  She wasn’t going to waste another moment.

  Jake wrapped her legs around his waist, burying his face against her neck as she pulled his sweater over his head. God, that body . . . It was an athlete’s physique, all taut, tanned flesh and curved muscle, and she wasted no time exploring every inch, from the swell of his biceps to the chiseled line of his abs. She dropped a dozen kisses, teasing him with her tongue as she made her way over the expanse of his broad shoulders, loving the way his body shivered under her mouth. He was tugging her camisole away from her, and she gladly obliged, stripping it off and tossing it to the floor.

  “God, you’re so beautiful,” Jake breathed, staring up at her. But before Mackenzie could feel self-conscious, he rolled her beneath him, pinning her to the sheets. His mouth grazed over the lace of her bra, and her breath hitched in anticipation.

  Almost . . . almost . . . there.

  He closed his mouth around her, teasing as Mackenzie swooned back into the covers. The sensations were overwhelming: his steady weight, and sliding hands, and God, that miraculous mouth, sending her soaring as he stripped the last of her clothing away and lay her out, naked beneath him.

  Her breath caught.

  He was looking at her, really looking, the reverence in his gaze like nothing she’d ever seen before. Slowly, his eyes skimmed over her body, and she felt their path like a burning touch, bringing every part of her to life until she was panting, tension sweet between her thighs. She could have stayed like that forever: suspended on the edge of something, with anticipation burning in the air, but Mackenzie’s patience was already long gone.

  She’d been waiting ten years for this, and she wasn’t going to waste another moment.

  She reached for him, hungry, and then his clothes were joining hers in a mess on the floor, and there was nothing separating them anymore. Just the delicious, hot tangle of hands, and limbs, and bare skin, and searching mouths. The kisses she’d dreamed about all those innocent nights—and so much more. She didn’t want to stop, not for a moment, and a small part of her felt almost desperate with desire—as if any pause, even for a moment, would pierce this reckless haze and it would all slip away, before she could possess him the way she craved.

  But Jake didn’t stop. His touch was ravenous, electric, as he spread her open and explored every inch, driving Mackenzie higher with a hungry touch until the storm was dancing, cresting, just out of reach. When he peeled away from her, she moaned in frustration, but he was only gone a moment, long enough to grab a condom from his wallet on the floor, and then he was back, yanking her against him, and it was her turn to explore: feeling the shifts and shudder of his breath beneath the rake of her fingernails, devouring him, teasing him in all the ways she could have imagined. She could have spent hours discovering the planes of his body, but Jake let out a ragged groan, and then he was rolling them again, pinning her beneath his delicious weight and easing her thighs apart.

  When he moved inside her, Mackenzie lost her mind.

  Something took her over, a raw, animal need she’d never known before. Hot and pulsing, demanding more. Harder. Now.

  Jake rocked higher, and she heard herself cry out, as if from far away. She was clinging to him, meeting him stroke for stroke, wild with desire as he surged inside her, thick and deep and God, right there. She bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming with pleasure, and Jake let out a raw, ragged cry. His pace became frenzied, their bodies a slick blur of sweat and gasps and wild abandon. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe, all she could do was hold on for dear life, feeling the fire take her over, burning the world down in the blaze of his touch until she was poised on the edge of the precipice, a live wire sparking in the night.

  “Jake,” she gasped, drowning in him, in the wild, sweet fever of it all. “Oh God, don’t stop. Jake!”

  He shifted, pinning her down and then thrusting deep again, deeper than before, his face a mirror of her own wild abandon, those blue eyes frenzied with the same desperate need. Mackenzie lost herself in them, lost herself in the slam of their bodies and the thick slide of him and the friction building, burning, raging deeper until she couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stop the supernova. He surged up inside her, stroking every last inch and oh, she shattered with a scream, ravished by the surge of pleasure, consumed by the sound of her name on his lips, a desperate, ragged prayer before his body tightened and she felt him come undone.

  15

  Mackenzie stretched, yawning. Jake was collapsed across her, pinning her to the rumpled sheets. It wasn’t altogether a bad sensation, she decided, flexing her sore, tired muscles with a yawn.

  “So, that’s what a workout feels like.”

  Jake chuckled, his eyes still closed. “I wish. I’ll take this over a five-mile run any day.”

  She nibbled on his bare shoulder, and Jake rolled them over, settling her in the crook of his shoulder as he let out an almighty yawn. “Down, woman.”

  Mackenzie cleared her throat.

  “Babe?” he smiled, still sleepy. “Sweetheart? Darlin’?”

  “Sure, snookums.”

  Jake’s eyes shot open. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” He smiled, pinning her down in an instant and kissing her deep enough to make every one of those tired nerve endings come screaming back to life.

  Mmmm . . . Mackenzie luxuriated in the feel of him, the hard press of that magnificent body. Her hands couldn’t keep from roaming, as if they had a life of their own, exploring up over his s
houlders and down to the curve of his ass. “I’ve got to start dating more athletes,” she murmured, teasing.

  “You know what else we have?” Jake gave her a wicked grin. “Stamina.”

  Mackenzie laughed. “Well, in that case . . .” She bounced upright, looking around. “Where’s the room service menu?”

  Jake made a noise of appreciation. “See, I knew you were the perfect woman.”

  He got up and padded over to the bureau—giving Mackenzie an uninterrupted view. She flushed, realizing for the first time now that her afterglow was fading that this was happening.

  She was naked, in a hotel room, with Jake Sullivan.

  And it was about damn time.

  “What?” Jake turned in time to see her victorious smile.

  “Nothing.” Mackenzie grinned. “Just admiring the view.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jake struck a muscle-man pose, showing off, until she tossed a pillow at him. “Hey!” he protested, throwing it right back. “Show a little appreciation. I’m out here hunting and gathering for you.”

  He grabbed the menu and collapsed back on the bed, making Mackenzie bounce. “I do appreciate you,” she said, mock-serious. “Any man who can dish out orgasms like that and order ice cream wins my undying affection.”

  “Ice cream?” Jake reached for the in-room phone.

  “Or fries.” Mackenzie paused. “Or nachos. I can’t decide.”

  Jake winked as he placed their order. “Hey, this is room 412. Can we please get an order of fries, nachos, and ice cream? Thanks.” He hung up and kissed her. “Anything for my baby.”

  Mackenzie mock-swooned. “You’re so good to me.”

  She fell back into the pillows, her heart singing. It was so simple with him: the laughter and easy jokes. She wasn’t suddenly gripped with self-consciousness about her body, or awkwardly making small talk, the way it was with some guys. Instead, she felt perfectly at ease beside him, her head nestling against his chest, and his hand tracing idle circles on her bare shoulder like it was second nature to him.

  “Excellent plan, by the way, staying in the city,” she said, turning to smile up at him. “Who knows how dangerous the roads would have been.”

  Jake smiled back. “Sure. It’s a blizzard out there.”

  Mackenzie laughed. The drapes were open, and she could see the gentle sprinkle of snowflakes spiraling down outside. “A real storm,” she agreed, snuggling closer. “Who knows how long we might be trapped?”

  “That’s just fine with me,” Jake said, his voice turning husky. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

  He kissed her, a leisurely, morning-after kind of kiss that slipped through her veins, sweet as whiskey. Mackenzie sighed in pleasure, automatically pressing closer, and just like that, the kiss wasn’t so leisurely anymore. Jake caught her lower lip between his teeth, nipping lightly, and Mackenzie teased her fingernails across his chest, loving how his breath hitched at her touch. He shifted, crushing her against him—

  There was a knock at the door.

  “To be continued,” Jake promised, dragging himself away. He grabbed a robe from the wardrobe and tossed one to Mackenzie too, waiting until she was covered before opening the door. She slipped through to the bathroom while he chatted to the bellhop, and what seemed like a lifetime later, she finally heard the door close again.

  “Sorry,” Jake said when she stuck her head back out. “Turns out he was a fan.”

  “No rest for the famous,” she said lightly, and danced over to explore the tray. There were crispy French fries with little individual bottles of mustard and ketchup, loaded nachos, smothered with cheese . . . Mackenzie sighed with satisfaction, sinking down on the couch and digging in.

  When she looked up, Jake was watching her with a smile. “What?” she asked, wiping her face. “Do I have salsa all over me?”

  He chuckled, strolling over to join her. “No, you’re good. I was just making a mental note to get groceries in. At this rate, you’ll eat me out of house and home.”

  “Your mom’s pies won’t stand a chance,” she agreed.

  “Actually, I moved in to Cooper’s place,” he said casually, reaching for a wedge of nachos.

  Mackenzie stopped and turned. “What? When? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He shrugged. “ ’Cause I was being a jealous asshole. I saw you with Declan,” he admitted.

  She paused. Maybe it was petty, but she still felt pretty good knowing he’d been jealous. “Declan’s just a buddy,” she reassured him.

  “So, you’ve never . . . ?” Jake was still studying the food like it was the most interesting thing in the room, but Mackenzie could see through his casual questioning.

  “Nope. He’s way too much of a playboy,” she said. “We never clicked like that.”

  “OK.” Jake seemed to relax. “And, yes, I know it’s crazy of me to be jealous when we haven’t even been talking for the past ten years, but . . .”

  “I get it,” Mackenzie agreed quickly. “I’m choosing not to think about you and any gorgeous groupies, either.” She dunked a fry in the ice cream.

  “There weren’t any groupies.”

  Mackenzie looked up. Jake gave her a sheepish smile. “OK, maybe there were a few, but it wasn’t like you think.”

  “Let’s just not talk about them full-stop.”

  “Deal.”

  She munched on the food, her endorphins settling again. That first wild elation was melting, and now she just felt sleepy—sleepy, and safe, and wrapped in the delicious haze of the two of them, snuggled together companionably. It could have been any other of the hundred evenings they’d spent together.

  Except for that whole “mind-blowing sex” part of the equation.

  She glanced over, blushing, and as if reading her mind, Jake gave her a smoldering smile.

  “Come here,” he said, beckoning softly.

  Mackenzie arched an eyebrow, but still, of course, she went: leaning over and slowly crawling up his body to drop a kiss on his perfect mouth.

  He tasted like vanilla and chocolate sauce, sweet on her lips as she grazed over his cheek and then lower, to his collarbone, and the broad, tanned expanse of his chest. She felt him inhale as her hands slid lower, pushing his terry-cloth robe aside to explore her territory.

  “Mac . . .” he whispered as she teased lower, licking a path along his hipbone, and down the cut lines of his abdomen. She heard him groan as she closed her hands around him, and then it was past the time for words. She had better things to do with her mouth.

  16

  It was morning when Mackenzie woke again, and the gray, clear light was pouring through the window.

  The bed beside her was empty.

  She stretched, still sleepy, until she heard the sound of the shower from the bathroom, and suddenly, it all came rushing back.

  The hotel. The snow.

  Jake.

  She sat bolt upright, her heart pounding. What happened now? Was this night the start of something more between them, or was it a fluke, one crazy, wild adventure that would never be repeated?

  The shower shut off, and a moment later, Jake emerged—dripping wet, with a towel around his waist. He saw her sitting there, and smiled. “Good morning.”

  It was now.

  “Hey.” Mackenzie fought to keep her live-wire emotions in check. She bounced out of bed and quickly belted a robe around her. “What time is it? I feel like I’ve slept for hours.”

  “You did. It’s past ten.”

  Mackenzie yelped.

  “Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “I already called and got us late check-out.”

  “But the gallery,” she said, already hunting in her purse for her cellphone. “And I was supposed to walk Debra’s dogs again. What should I tell her?”

  “That you got waylaid with a sex god?” Jake grinned with a cocky look on his face.

  She laughed, tapping out a text. “I said I crashed in the city with a friend.”

  “A friend,
hmmm?” Jake’s hands slipped around her, inside her robe. “A good one, I hope.”

  Mackenzie’s heart caught. She wasn’t ready to have the talk about what they were to each other now—not when she didn’t know for sure what his reply would be. So, she danced away with a kiss. “The best. I hope you left some hot water for me,” she changed the subject lightly, heading for the bathroom. “Because the only thing I love more than hotel room service is hotel bathtubs.”

  “Is that an invitation?” Jake asked, already reaching for his towel.

  “Definitely.”

  * * *

  By the time they checked out and hit the road again, it was after noon. Mackenzie curled in the passenger seat, letting the sound of the radio wash over her, the snow-dusted scenes of the Cape speeding by as they headed back for home.

  Jake was steady at the steering wheel, his profile framed against the pale sky. She watched him, marveling that such a familiar face could still be so new. Even after all this time, there was still so much to discover: the look in his eyes when he reached for her; the way his body felt as he came undone.

  He glanced over. “All good?”

  She nodded. “We’ll be home soon,” she said, pressing her fingertips to the cool glass. “It’s weird. It feels like we’ve been away for weeks, not just one night.”

  “The best night of your life,” Jake teased, and Mackenzie laughed.

  “Sure thing, snookums.”

  But it was. And now that the glow was fading, Mackenzie was left with too many unanswered questions, so she pushed them all aside and turned the radio up: singing along and joking with Jake until they turned off the highway and passed the familiar sign welcoming them back to town. The streets were busy for the weekend, even with the snow, and she could already see the first tourists of the season snapping photos on the square. It was a good thing Phase One of the Starbright Festival was already underway, with decorations in every storefront and twinkling lights strung from every streetlamp across the square. “We should get everything stored over at the Town Hall,” Mackenzie said, remembering the van-load of toys and decorations they were carrying in the back.