Page 29 of Homecoming Heartbreaker

As their kiss deepened, became wilder and wetter, their hands skated from body part to body part, searching for skin. Mack shifted forward in the chair, perched on the end and dragged her dress up her butt, and Molly felt the warm night air on her lower back. His hand slid down the back of her panties to cup her bare ass. Needing to touch him, she pulled Mack’s shirt out of his pants to run her hands up the dip of his spine, over his muscled back, slowly making her away around to his ladderlike stomach. She could feel her heart thumping erratically, or was that Mack’s?

She didn’t know and it didn’t matter; all that was of importance was that he was as out of control as she was. Molly ground herself against his shaft, desperate to be rid of the barriers between him.

Mack’s hand covered her breast and soon his mouth was there, too, sucking her through her dress and bra. Frustrated, he pulled her dress down and then the bra cup, and dragged his hot tongue across her nipple.

Moisture flooded her panties and Molly knew that, just by riding his shaft and having him tongue her breasts, she could come.

“You are so damn sexy, Curls,” Mack muttered against her skin.

And in his arms she felt sexy, a little wild, a pagan goddess intent on pleasure. Molly whimpered when Mack’s hand dived between her thighs to pull the seam of her panties to one side so that he could stroke her bare, throbbing flesh. He rubbed his thumb across her bundle of nerves and she tipped her head back. The world narrowed to his touch and he slid one finger inside her, then another.

Molly, insensible to the fact that she was half-dressed, that her breasts were bare to the night air, closed her eyes, swept away on a rising tide of passion. Mack knew exactly how to touch her; she was so close to gushing all over his fingers, to spinning away on a whirlwind of sensation.

And he was still fully dressed...

She needed more so she forced herself to slide back, her hands going to the button on his shorts, flipping it open. With hands that were very out of practice, she slid down his zipper, needing to feel his silky shaft in her hands. For him to be inside her...

Molly freed him from his underwear and shifted so that her core was riding his shaft. She groaned, tilted her hips and released a small scream when pleasure ricocheted through her.

“Want you, want you, want you,” Molly chanted, feeling fireworks building behind her eyes as she rubbed his shaft. “Mack, I’m so damn close.”

“I know, Mol. Use me, any way you want to.” She wanted him inside her but she didn’t want to stop doing this, either. She was one move, maybe two, from the most delicious orgasm and, because it had been so long, she couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to...

“Use me, sweetheart.”

She’d be happy to. Molly ground down on him, pushing herself down, wishing she could fall into him. Working her hand between them, she palmed him, amazed at the warmth they generated. Another slide, another kick of pleasure, and Molly groaned when Mack lifted his hips to increase the pressure. She looked down into his eyes, saw the pain and pleasure on his face, and dipped her head so that her mouth could meet his. Mack stabbed her mouth with his tongue, echoing the rhythm down below, and Molly knew that she was nanoseconds from coming.

“Harder, baby, yeah, that’s it.”

Molly rocked herself against his shaft and everything coalesced into a thin, pulsing band of pleasure. She felt her womb contract, the gush of heat and she spun away, lying as pleasure overtook her. She felt Mack surge against her, felt his body tense and his masculine and hot release.

Molly slumped against him, his arms tightened around her, and she buried her face in his neck as her nerve endings buzzed. As the roaring in her ears subsided, she heard Mack’s erratic breathing and his superfast heartbeat.

Feeling like she was losing the feeling in her trapped hand, she pulled it out from between them and scooted off his lap, turning away to rearrange her clothing and underwear.

When she turned back, Mack was dressed and his expression had returned to impassivity.

He probably had encounters like this all the time. Unlike her, he wasn’t an inexperienced, churning, electrified mess of need and want and hormones.

Molly shoved her hands into her hair, wishing she knew what to say, how to act. They hadn’t made love, in the traditional sense, but she did feel like Mack had taken her apart and slapped her back together again. She wasn’t who she was before. She was a little off balance, felt different.

If she felt like this now, how would she feel after they made love?

Mack stood up, held out his hand to her and sent her a smile. “Come to bed with me, Mol. Since we’ve both taken the edge off, I want to take my time rediscovering every inch of you.”

Saying no wasn’t an option; she needed to be with him, in every way, so Molly put her hand in his and followed him inside the house.

Seven

Mack heard the beat-up truck long before it arrived. Standing on the driveway at the bottom of the steps leading up to the portico, he—and two guests who’d just arrived in the latest Mercedes AMG—turned to watch the truck emerge from the tree-lined driveway.

Mack stiffened as he recognized Grant and Vincent Haskell, Molly’s brothers, and his least favorite people. Jerking the truck to a stop a few inches behind the Mercedes, giving the couple near heart failure, the two brothers looked at Mack through the cracked windscreen, sizing him up.

Oh, crap. Trouble had arrived.

Mack turned to look at the couple who was eyeing Molly’s brothers with obvious distaste. He gestured for the porter to lead them inside. Despite not having had any contact with Molly’s siblings for fifteen years, he knew, thanks to their belligerent expressions and annoyed eyes, they were happy to cause a scene.

Mack knew, via Jameson, since Molly refused to discuss her family, that they’d been banned from the property years ago and had been told if they returned, they’d be charged with trespassing. Something must’ve happened for them to take that risk...

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