Page 26 of Mac
“Do you plan to take me out here?”
“Would you care?”
“No,” she said, emphasizing with a shake of her head. “I wouldn’t. Just take me this time.”
“Mmm. Good girl. But I think we’ll use the bedding inside.”
“Please, Mac.”
The tone of her voice brought his gaze up to meet hers. Fear met him in the liquid pools and threw him off balance. “Out here, against the pole or the railing isn’t what I had in mind.”
“I know. I … Please. Out here. Like this.”
Lust mixed with the fear and for a moment, Mac thought to call a halt to things again. But she’d said please. And if he pressed, he could get her to tell him what she was afraid of. That one would wait until after. “The condoms are inside. I’ll be right back.”
“No. No condoms.”
“Jackie …”
“No. I need it. Real. Nothing between.”
Mac eased his hold on her. “Why are you so insistent? And don’t close your eyes. Don’t shut me out. See me. See all of me.”
“I can’t get pregnant. I had everything taken out before I started hooking. I never wanted kids. I was too selfish. But I made every one of my clients use condoms. Every last one of them.”
“And I’m not a client.”
“No,” she said so soft he might have missed it if he hadn’t been staring at her mouth when she uttered the word. “I haven’t been with anyone like that in all the years since.”
“No one?”
“No one. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. Hooking was my choice. Sex for money was my choice. It bought me my independence and my club. But the cost was that I couldn’t get close to anyone like that. I couldn’t get close to a man.” Tears shown in her eyes and he wanted to wipe them away, but he sensed until she got everything out, she wouldn’t welcome touch or tenderness.
“What about me?”
“You’re the one difference. Then again, I haven’t been with you, yet. Kissing you, though … Kissing you was every bit as sweet and tumultuous as I knew it would be.”
“Has there been any pleasure for you?” It was such an intimate question to ask, but he needed to know she hadn’t gone without. It would break him to learn she’d not only been without a man’s touch but also her own.
“Yes.” She smiled, a little shy, a little mischievous. “I have a large toy box.”
God … “Are you sure? No condom?”
“I’m sure.”
“And out here?”
“Please.”
Mac nodded and took her at her word this time. He unbuckled his belt and tugged his shirt over his head. He —
“Tattoos,” she said, walking toward him, one hand outstretched.
“Yes.” The word ended on a hiss when her fingers connected with his bare skin.
“Wings. Angel’s wings.”
“Or demon wings. Whichever you prefer.” He’d prefer her to continue touching him for the next decade and beyond.
