It was probably just housekeeping or surprise complimentary room service. It was probably one of the girls who forgot their keycard.
I opened the door firmly, not bothering to look through the peephole. And there he was. Mac.
He looked just as surprised to see me, which was to say not at all. He grinned that intoxicating smile and nodded toward the gap between me and the door. “Can I come in?” he asked.
I nodded, but still didn’t say anything. He walked into the room. His hair was damp and slicked back. It made him look even more roguish and handsome. But I couldn’t swoon. It was obvious why he was here, but I still wasn’t sure. Every part of me wanted him but for that small section of my mind called logic.
It will never work. You’re just going to get hurt.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“I was in my room,” he said, “thinking about you. And then I wanted to see you again.”
“And you didn’t go down to the beach?”
“I texted Henry. He told me you skipped the festivities.” He walked slowly around the room, examining it like he hadn’t already been in here (albeit with seven strippers). “Why’d you decide not to go?”
I shrugged. “Just didn’t feel like it.” I paused and then added, “A lot on my mind.”
His green eyes met mine. “Me too.” He abandoned his exploration and walked toward me until he was only two paces away. “What’s on your mind, Alice?” he asked.
“You,” I said honestly. There was no point beating around the bush. “What was the goal tonight? On the beach?”
His face betrayed no emotion. “To apologize,” he said.
“That’s all? Henry probably would have sent a check.”
“I’m not Henry.”
I crossed my arms. “So that was it? You wanted to apologize? Well you did. Why are you here now?”
If I sounded upset, it was because I was. It was hard enough to resist this magnetic attraction to Mac when he was across the hall. Now, with him standing three feet in front of me, the pressure to stand still, to not walk up to him and rest my hands against his broad chest, to look up into those glittering green eyes, threatened to rip me apart. My heart ached as I stood my ground.
“What is it you want?” I asked, the irritation in my voice fading to something close to pleading.
“I want you, Alice,” he said. His jaw was clenched, his handsome features strained with the effort of the words.
“No,” I said softly. “After all this, you don’t get to have me. You’ve said it enough times. You want a quick lay and to move on the next day. I’m not that. And I’m not falling for it.”
In response, he took a single step closer. The distance between us shortened and the air around me crackled with his presence. An intoxicating scent of pine and danger. The smell was a battering ram to my defenses, but I held strong. Because I knew that if we went any further, I wouldn’t be able to just move on tomorrow. If I had Mac now, I’d want him for life.
“What did I just say?” he murmured. He took another step forward and lifted a hand to my chin. “I don’t want a quick lay. I want you.”
With those words, my last defenses fled my body along with my last shred of reason. We both started forward at the same time. Our lips crashed together, his tongue immediately finding mine as those thick arms wrapped around me and lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and mashed my mouth to his, drawing his scent in with every breath as his mouth dominated mine. He pressed me against the wall beside the door, consuming me, enveloping my body with his.
There was no going back now. I’d given in and there was absolutely nothing I wanted more than to have him right here on the couch. But the image of Beck and the girls stumbling on this scene was not a good one.
“Bedroom,” I gasped, breaking away long enough to get the single word out. He recaptured my mouth, kissing me like a man starving for something he hadn’t had in a long time, if he’d ever had it at all. But he must have understood the half-panted word because he pulled me away from the wall and walked us across the suite, still kissing, to my bedroom.
How he knew which one was mine was a question for later. Right now, there was only one thing on my mind: How would Mac Walsh’s exquisite cock feel inside me?
I wasn’t going to find out right away though. Mac lowered me to the bed and finally broke away. He knelt, one toned quad on either side of my waist, and pulled his shirt off, revealing his thick chest and cut abs. I reached up, finally able to run my hands over them. He smirked at my obvious interest before grabbing my hands at the wrist and firmly pressing me flat to the bed, kissing me deeply yet again.
His muscled body, freed at last from his shirt, hulked over me like an eclipse and I could feel the hardness of his cock pressing into my stomach. It felt even larger than I remembered it looking and wished Mac would give me back my hands so I could explore properly.
But it quickly became clear that we were going at his pace. Which was agonizingly slow. Finally he left my mouth and kissed my jaw and then my neck. I gave a soft moan and wriggled my hands, pushing against his. He let go but almost immediately disappeared, working down, feeling at my breasts, my ass through my clothes.
Speaking of which, I was wearing way too many. Hands free, I managed to rip my loose t-shirt off just as he pulled at my pajama pants, taking them down to my knees where I kicked them the rest of the way off. Now I was naked, but Mac still had his pants on, concealing his length entirely. It looked like that was going to be a later stop on the program because Mac was going even lower now, all the way down to my core, hot and spasming from the want pounding in my head.
He attacked my clit with his mouth, tonguing the sensitive nub as sparks exploded up and down my body. I tensed and moaned loudly at the attention. When I felt one of his long, thick fingers enter me, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. He stroked at that spot inside me, grinding against my clit with a precision and competence many men brag about having but none had ever demonstrated to me. It was too much, explosive. I clamped my legs around his head and bucked, jerked, against him as my world exploded in pleasure and passion.
After I was finally able to recover, I relaxed against the bed, panting and staring up into those green eyes. He smiled down at me. “Ready for round two, love?” he breathed in that deep, smooth voice.
I felt it against my leg and realized that he’d been able to get out of his sweat pants at some point without me even noticing. His length strained against me, hot and throbbing, beating a thump of its own.
“Hell yes,” I groaned. I didn’t have to say anything more. Mac lined himself up against my sopping entrance and pressed firmly inside me. I gasped as he filled me, sliding deep and steady, stretching me wonderfully.
Just as he’d kissed me, Mac fucked like a man deprived. Deep, intense, strong strokes, pulling in and out and pushing me further than any man had ever taken me. I’d never in my life had the sensations that pulsed through my body and I was vaguely aware that I might never find them again. I finally understood what is was to find that somebody, that one. And as the both of us climaxed against each other, the orgasm faded with thoughts of a future.
My eyes opened with the dawn. Mac slept beside me, one large hand resting on my back. He was warm, comforting.