Page 127 of The Games We Play
Mac’s arms were wrapped around me, my back pressed snug against his chest. He wore nothing but his boxers, and I had onone of his old T-shirts. Sure, I still had a drawer here with some of my things, but I didn’t want them. I wanted to wear something that smelled like him, something that felt like him.
Soft lips grazed the curve of my neck, just behind my ear, in a kiss I knew by heart. I let out a content hum, leaning into the tenderness.
“I don’t think I have it in me to go again,” I murmured, eyes still closed. “Between the bull ride and then you…”
Mac groaned, nuzzling deeper into my neck, his need clear in the way his body pressed to mine.
“You put the bull first on that list?” he teased, flipping me onto my back, hovering over me now with that crooked grin I could never resist.
“Your point?” I smirked, a slow wink sent his way.
But just as the air filled with our laughter, something unexpected tugged in my chest. A flicker of unease. A memory. The way things fell apart that morning not so long ago.
I swallowed hard, forcing the feeling back down. This wasn’t that. This was now. Different.New.
His hand found my cheek, grounding me. My eyes fluttered open to find his warm brown gaze on mine, steady and soft. He knew. Somehow, he knew when I drifted too far.
I gave him a soft smile and cupped his face in both hands, lifting just enough to brush my lips against his.
“I hope you know,” he murmured against my mouth, “I’m not giving this up. Now that I’ve had you in my bed again, you’re never leaving.”
My heart flipped at the rawness in his voice. I looped my arms around his neck, my legs wrapping around his waist like they belonged there.
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay right here, tangled up with him in the quiet afterglow like we were a picture frozen intime. But I couldn’t say that. The words were true, but they felt too big, too heavy to give voice to.
So instead, I did what I always did when the truth got tangled in my chest. I kissed him again.
Mac parted his lips, letting me in, our tongues sliding together in a rhythm that made my pulse race all over again. Without breaking the kiss, he stood with me clinging to him, every inch of my skin glued to his as he carried us from the bed to the small kitchenette.
He set me down gently on the counter, and I grinned against his mouth.
“I had a thought,” I said, breathless.
That made him pull back slightly, his hands braced on the counter, caging me in.
Mac quirked a brow, smirking. “And what’s that, Penelope?”
“Where’s Angus?”
Mac let out a laugh that shook his whole chest as he stepped back, arms crossing. “You’re sitting half-naked on my counter, andthat’swhat pulls your focus? My dog?”
I shrugged, legs swinging like I hadn’t just derailed a hot moment. “I miss him.”
“My guess? Our friends saw the writing on the wall last night and decided to intervene. I mean, did you see how fast Rhodes ducked behind the bar?” Mac chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.
He turned to the fridge, and my eyes followed every move—the way his boxers hung low on his hips, the tousled mess of his hair, even messier now from our night together.
I bit back a smile and looked away, tucking the gesture away for just me as Mac poured orange juice into two glasses.
“I know,” I said softly. “It’s like he was waiting for that moment.”
Mac nodded, handing me a glass and leaning against the counter beside me.
“Speaking of last night…” I took a sip of juice, pausing just long enough for effect. “I wouldn’t be totally against doing it again.”
Mac raised a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Which part? The sex, or me spanking you with my belt?”
“Both,” I replied with a wink.
