Eagle's Refuge (9 page)

Mac showed her daily with every touch, every stroke of his body into hers, every emotional connection, that he cared for her. But love? Could she be so lucky to earn the

heart of a man who’d known so much loss that he’d shut away those vulnerable parts of himself?

Suddenly Mac’s strong arms came around her from behind. “Mac.”

He drew her against his warm, naked body and settled his lips against her shoulder. “I missed you. What are you doing up?”

His voice was rusty from sleep. She sighed and leaned against him, turning her face enough to capture his lips. The kiss was soft, sweet and lush, but holding a comfort that she’d never known before. “Thinking.”

“’Bout what, sugar? Are you worried?”

“A little,” she turned in his arms. “He’s out there. Just being quiet, I know, but I can feel him.”

When she’d gotten up naked from their bed, she’d put on her stretchy tank top along with her panties. Now Mac’s thumb traced the skinny spaghetti straps and slid them off her shoulders. Bending his head, he tasted her bare flesh, nipping gently, drawing it into his mouth before sliding over to taste her throat. “Let me give you something else to think about, darlin’.”

“Umm. What a plan.” Her arms went around him, fingers tracing the long, strong muscles of his back. Mac’s dark skin felt like velvet beneath her palms and helplessly, she lifted her face to him. “Kiss me, Mac. Take me to bed. I need you.”

Mac’s hungry kiss, his answer to her plea, went deep and hot, quick as a flashfire burning. His hands gripped her ass, fingers plying her flesh, and then his fingers were there, beneath the scrap of cotton dipping deep into her cunt. “I love your cream on my hands, in my mouth. You are the most delicious woman, Callie.”

Speechless under the assault of his words, his hands on her body, she managed to gasp his name as he pressed her to the cool glass of the door. His mouth was frantic on hers, eating hungrily at her lips as he finally fisted his hands in her top and yanked it up and over her head. Her nipples pulsed, ached for a firmer touch, and finally, finally he drew one in his mouth to suck. His teeth plied her and Callie could only sink her fingers

into his hair and hang on for the ride. Mac released her nipple with a soft pop, licking it once more for good measure before he went to his knees, a loving supplicant, before her. His lips traced her ribs, her belly, before slipping his fingers into the elastic of her panties to find her dripping pussy.

Her panties were drenched, impossibly wet, but then panties weren’t an issue at all.

Mac whipped them down her legs and tossed them aside. “Widen your legs. I’m going to eat you out. Now. Come on,” he whispered, his voice rough with lust. “Ah yeah, good girl.”

Mac gripped her naked ass for purchase and buried his face between her legs, his busy tongue working her over until she wanted to scream her pleasure. Her fists tightened in his hair but he didn’t seem to notice. Mac’s heavy palms swept gently over her ass before he focused with laser-like precision on her needy pussy. Parting her labia with his fingers, he drew his tongue along her center in a slow tasting. Callie’s knees went weak. Mac sent his stiffened tongue deep into her channel, leaving her little choice but to hang on for the ride as he fucked her with his mouth, eating her out with the touch of a master. Her clit pulsed and throbbed in time with the pounding of her heart.

“Mac! I need—”

“Yeah,” he breathed hotly against her flesh. “Hang on.”

Mac sucked her clit, teased with his tongue as pleasure knotted hard in her belly.

Callie gasped a breath, moving against his mouth as the ever-expanding sensations curled tighter and tighter. He sank his fingers into her cunt. Callie burned, ached, crying out sharply as the world imploded, blasting through her body with savage force.

She screamed as her body pulsed, tears trailed down her cheeks, and then Mac had her in his arms, his long legs eating up the distance between the kitchen and the master bedroom.

In a hot flash, he had her in the center of the bed, kneeling among the rumpled bed linens. Dizzily, still under the effects of the powerful orgasm, she faced the headboard.

Mac came up behind her. She felt the heat of his body blast through her as he guided her fingers to the wooden edge of the headboard.

Holding on tight, she felt him move behind her, heard the snick of paper and knew he was covering himself. Callie sucked in a breath, going still as he dragged the fat head of his cock over her drenched pussy with agonizing slowness. Mac brushed it tauntingly over her swollen clit and then drifted higher to settle at her opening. With a low groan, he buried his cock to the hilt.

Callie gasped then went still as he bent to press his mouth between her shoulder blades in a loving touch that zipped straight to her heart. His hands cupped her breasts, flicking the nipples with his thumbs, pulling gently, and then his fingers were entwined with hers on the headboard as he withdrew then thrust again with savage intensity.

Feeling swept her from the bottoms of her feet to the top of her head, hitting every nerve ending in between. Hot and fast he fucked her, so connected with her body Callie had no clue where she stopped and he began. In. Out. In. Out. Little sounds escaped her lips as Mac buried his cock deep, infusing her with pleasure.

“Can’t hold on long,” he gasped.

“Don’t stop. Do it, Mac. Please.”

Every surge and withdrawal lashed her until, mindless with need, she came long and hard, crying his name. Behind her, Mac went still then thrust twice more.

“Callie. God!”

The reverence in his voice was her ultimate undoing. A shiver swept her as, impossibly, she came again.

She loved him. She knew it now. Feelings rolled over her like a song and when she shivered again she knew it wasn’t from the strong orgasms she’d experienced.

Callie was a total goner for the first time in her life. How could she have ever imagined what she’d known with her ex even remotely resembled what she felt for Mac Moreno? It was a shallow, weak thing and nothing like what she had with this man.

The power of her emotions swept her but she didn’t want Mac to know. Not yet.

As Mac pulled her into his arms and drew her, spoon fashion, against him, she closed her eyes, the most important question of her life hovering in her mind. Could he love her? Maybe a little bit? Wishing didn’t make things so, but she did it now and kept it up until she felt Mac’s breathing slow as he finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Callie rode into town with Mac. It felt weird to not be driving her own small compact car but Mac insisted it wasn’t safe for her to be alone. At least not yet. So she didn’t complain and left it parked in the three-car garage at Mac’s house on the ranch. Over the past weeks, she’d begun to feel a little like a refugee from a war-torn country. Most of her things were still at her little rental house but over time, she and Mac had gathered up more and more stuff that she’d found she needed while staying at his place. Her clothes hung across from Mac’s in the big walk-in closet in his master bedroom. Makeup, lotions and perfumes sat alongside Mac’s grooming things in the bathroom.

It was strange for her.

In all the years since her split from Doug, she’d never entered into anything that remotely smacked of the long term. Though Doug’s harassment of her had much to do with that, the truth was she’d yet to meet a guy who’d rung all her bells and then some as Mac had done.

This is temporary, she reminded herself. It was a sad fact of life that good things seldom lasted. At least that had been her reality.

Mustering a smile, trying desperately to shake off the blues, Callie glanced at Mac.

“Thanks for the lift into town. I don’t like being dependent like this, you know. It’s just weird.”

Sharp morning sunlight caught on his black hair and emphasized the masculine lines of his face. Solemnly, he reached out and took her hand. “There is a time to be independent and a time to lean on others. You don’t have a lot of choice here, honey, because you know me well enough to realize I’ll do anything to keep you safe until that

bastard ex of yours is locked up somewhere.” He smiled a little. “No sense arguing about it. How about I come by for lunch after I’ve finished up at the ranch?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said as Mac pulled into an empty parking spot in front of The Gilded Lily. “You want to pick up something or shall I?”

“I’ll do it. Sandwiches from Daisy’s Deli?”

“Perfect.” Callie opened the door and stepped out of the truck. Looking around, she noted the average, everyday goings-on of small-town life. Several men wearing work clothes stepped from the front door of the nearby coffee shop. The bakery across the street was making homemade bread. The scent of it rolled through the air, making her wish she’d at least had toast for breakfast instead of the single cup of coffee. Teens heading to the local high school drove down Main, honking their horns at each other the way kids do.

When she and Mac got to the door of the shop she dug her keys out of her purse but Mac took them from her and opened the door for her. The cowbell over the door clanged once as they stepped inside and then they both stopped. They could only stare at the scene of devastation.

“What the fuck?” Mac picked up a broken piece of pottery from a display table and turned it over in his hand. Crystal wineglasses had been dashed to the hardwood floors, flowers lay strewn about, their stems broken. An antique dresser that held beautiful frames and other knickknacks had been gouged with something sharp. Most likely a knife.

“Oh Mac,” she whispered. Tears swam in her eyes. All her hard work, all the money she’d spent lay on the floor of her shop like so much litter.

“Bastard.” Mac muttered the word and reached into his back pocket just as Ashley walked in.

She covered her mouth with her hands as she looked around. Then she focused on Callie and rushed up to hug her. “I’d like to kick the crap outta that guy, honey. I’m so sorry.” When Ashley pulled back, she shook her head. “We’ll get it cleaned up, Callie.”

“Don’t touch anything, ladies,” Mac said, holding the cell phone to his ear. “I’m calling Sheriff Coleman.”

Together Callie and Ashley walked through the rubble and found the back door open. It looked like someone had taken an axe to the thing because it hung in pieces from its hinges. How had Doug gotten past the officers who’d promised to keep an eye out on her store? Shaking her head as she headed to the front area again, she reasoned they couldn’t stand watch /. Doug had slipped in and simply done this when they were somewhere else.

It didn’t take long for Sheriff Coleman to arrive. The big, burly man with a gruff voice wore a pristine cowboy hat as part of his cop uniform. He shook hands with Mac and her, nodded at Ashley and took a look at the carnage. Two of his deputies followed him into the room and immediately began taking pictures and dusting for prints.

“Looks like our boy got busy last night,” the sheriff observed. “I’m sorry he got by us, Callie.”

Callie shook her head. “No, you can’t be everywhere. I’m not the only citizen here and you guys have other people to worry about besides me. Can I get you some coffee?”

He nodded. “That would be good.”

“I have an unopened can of coffee. I’ll go make some. You and your deputies might be here for a while.”

Roughly an hour later, the fingerprints were taken and whatever other evidence to be found was gathered, the cops left the three of them alone in the store. It was only midmorning and already exhaustion sank deep into Callie’s bones. She was so damn tired and not just physically. Emotional exhaustion was harder than the other stuff and at this point she was so over it all she just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry for a while.

No time for that though.

She watched Mac emerge from the back of the store with a broom and a large trash can. “What would I do without you?”

“No need to worry about that, honey, I’m right here. Not going anywhere. Let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

“You have things to do, Mac,” she said, feeling emotion choke her. “Ash and I can deal here.”

Truthfully she didn’t want him to see her cry. She didn’t want him to see her fall apart. Over the years she’d fooled everyone into thinking she was tough and could handle things on her own but it was a lie. Inside she was as soft as a squishy marshmallow and everything Doug had put her through was suddenly too much. She wanted him gone. She wanted to live her life freely without constantly looking over her shoulder.

Callie opened her mouth to argue when the front door opened. Stunned beyond belief, she watched Shane and Leah Duffy and Dash and Carmen come in, armed with brooms, mops and dust pans. Carmen held a big box of garbage bags in one hand.

“What are ya’ll doing here?” Running a ranch was hard, tough work. She knew for damn sure they couldn’t afford the time it would take to help her with this mess.

Leah walked up and hugged her. “Helping. What else?” Mac’s sister drew back and studied Callie’s face. “Mac called and when our brother calls, we come. Simple as that.”

Suddenly it was too much. Their kindness undid her. Stinging tears welled in her eyes and before she could blink, Leah was hugging her as she sobbed her frustration.

*

Mac couldn’t remember too many times in his life when he’d been quite this pissed off. Today ranked right up there with the worst of those moments. Cleaning up the mess had taken the rest of the day and it didn’t take a genius to figure Callie had pretty much lost everything. Insurance would take care of it but it didn’t take away from the fact Doug Hill had violated Callie and that his rage was obviously escalating.

Something was in the very air he breathed and it smelled a hell of lot like danger to him. No doubt, the fact Callie was now living with him had provoked the bastard. Mac figured the ass would be coming out of the shadows pretty damn soon.

Shirtless and barefoot, wearing only his oldest pair of jeans, he sat at the kitchen table nursing a beer as Callie walked into the room, fresh from a shower. Instantly he smiled. She wore an oversized burnt orange football jersey that hung almost to her knees that she’d obviously swiped from one of his drawers. Her hair was damp, hanging in ringlets to just past her shoulders. Cute. Hell yeah. Cute as a button. Mac’s heart tightened. She’d been through a lot lately but she’d held up like a trouper. He thought back to earlier in the day and the tears that had inevitably come and it pissed him off all over again that Doug Hill had finally managed to get to her like this.