Page 28 of Homecoming Heartbreaker

But really, the only place she wanted to be was in his bed.

Molly left her apartment around nine and walked through the soft, fragrant night, navigating her way to the guesthouse by the light of the moon. Since their hot kiss on the stairs, Molly felt hot and horny, and she was sick of waiting for him to come to her so she’d decided to take the initiative.

But what if he’d changed his mind? Molly winced. She was ninety percent sure he wouldn’t; his kiss had been demanding and ferocious.

You’re overthinking this, Haskell. Just tell him you want a one-night stand and see what he says.

Molly looked over her shoulder and considered retracing her steps back to her place. Good girls didn’t ask for sex; men should make the first move...

Molly released a silent curse, annoyed that she was listening to the old-fashioned voice in her head. She was a woman in her early thirties. She was allowed to want sex. It was a natural, biological urge and she was single. Mack wasn’t married, engaged or in, as far as she knew, a relationship. If they ended up in bed, and there were no guarantees that would happen, she wouldn’t be doing anything wrong.

They were both adults...

She could have sex with him without needing a commitment, without expectations. That was what modern, emancipated women did these days and, as far as she knew, she was one of the tribe.

So then why did she feel nervous, like her heart was about to bounce out of her chest and roll around on the floor?

Molly halted at the bottom of the short steps that led up to the porch on the guesthouse of what used to be her old home.

Would this be a one-night stand? Or would they keep sleeping together until he left? What if he didn’t want her...?

For God’s sake, Haskell, stop!She’d seen the attraction and desire in Mack’s eyes; there was no doubt that he’d be fully on board with her idea. They’d sleep together, have a fun time and they either would, or wouldn’t, have sex again. Either way, she’d be fine.

She could do this.

Shewoulddo this.So move your feet, Molly.

“What are you doing, Curls?”

Mack’s voice, drifting over in the darkness, wrapped around her like a warm, sensual piece of silk. Molly squinted through the darkness. His vague outline told her that he was sitting in one of the big, comfy chairs in the corner of the veranda.

“I’m not actually sure,” Molly said, annoyed to hear the tremble in her voice.

“Then why don’t you come up here and we can figure it out together?” Mack suggested in that low, sexy voice.

Molly walked up the steps and crossed the veranda to where he was sitting. When she reached him, his hand wrapped around her wrist and he tugged her to stand between his thighs.

Molly looked down at his masculine face, wreathed in shadows, and shuddered when his hands moved to her hips and he rested his forehead on her stomach. “I want to take you to bed, Molly.”

So direct, so...adult. But could she do this...could she sleep with him and keep it simple? She was desperate to believe that she could keep all the messy emotions out of it. But this wasn’t any man; this was Mack and he was, always had been, hard to resist. As kids, they’d shared a powerful connection, and she’d loved him with an intensity that still, even in hindsight, scared her. When he moved on, her heart died.

Her body was demanding sex but her mind kept insisting that getting naked with him was dangerous. He called to her; he always had. And not only because he had the face and body that could stop traffic at a hundred yards. No, she liked his scalpel-sharp mind, the way his feelings ran deep, his loyalty to Jameson. She liked the way his focus sharpened when something caught his interest, his offbeat and dry sense of humor and his calm confidence.

Mack tugged her down so that she sat astride his thighs. His mouth touched hers and something fierce, primal and deeper than attraction flared between them as Molly fell into his kiss. One arm tightened around her waist and his hand held the back of her head as if she might—crazy thought—consider removing herself from his embrace.

Mack’s hand drifted over her hips, down her thighs, slid under the soft cotton of her dress and curled around the back of her knee. “What do you say, sweetheart?”

She made herself say the words, to remind herself that this could never be more than some bed-based fun. “A few hours, no expectations and no drama?”

“Works for me,” Mack said, his skilled hands running up the backs of her bare thighs and flirting with the curve of her butt cheek. Mack’s fingers slid under the band of her bikini panties, a small promise of what was to come.

Molly expected him to stand up, to lead her through the house to the main bedroom, to the room her parents used—thankfully redecorated—but Mack surprised her by keeping her on his lap, her knees on either side of his strong thighs. He reached up to hold her nape, gently pulling her down so that their lips could meet, and his kiss was tender, sweeter than she expected.

She expected...she didn’t know what she expected, Molly thought as his skilled tongue played with hers. She’d expected assertive and confident, a little crazy, but his kiss was an exploration, a rediscovery. Sexy, hot, a little sweet.

Molly needed to touch him so she placed her hands on his chest, feeling hard muscle under her hands and she sighed, her lips opening to allow that puff of air to escape. Mack used the opportunity to slide his tongue between her lips. A flame immediately rushed along the detonator cord and ignited a fireball of crazy want and need. Molly slid down his thighs, pressed her breasts into his chest and her hips met his, her core coming to rest against his steel-hard erection.

Perfect.

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