Authors: D.C. Stone
Mackenzie cringed, watched something
flash over Bari’s face before he nodded and stepped inside.
Chapter
Eighteen
Leaning back against the counter, Bari
took in Mackenzie’s kitchen. The white counters gleamed under the soft light,
and reflections danced through the air as their shadows bounced off of the
stainless steel appliances. The kitchen cabinets wrapped around the western
walls in an elbow shape, and marking the center stood a silver sink. Bari could
actually picture Mackenzie, in his mind, standing at that sink and watching
Byron playing outside through the large window lining that wall. If one were to
turn while standing at that sink, one would immediately see the large kitchen
island that stood as a focal point in the middle of the room.
Bari watched as she moved around with
confidence and ease. As Mackenzie finished with the coffee, Bari took the mug
from her hands and wrapped his palm around the smooth surface. Mackenzie turned
to him, leaning against the counter, and took a sip, watching him over the rim
of her cup. There were so many things to say, so many things he wanted to
explain; yet now, when he wanted to talk, Bari found he was at a loss for
words. Nothing would come so instead he watched as she brought her mug down
from her lips and swiped her tongue across the dark pink skin. Bari followed
the motion of her tongue, entranced with the urge to taste her lips. It was
strong, one he had to tamp down. As much as he wanted it, this wasn’t the time.
He promised himself he wouldn’t seduce her, made a silent promise to Mackenzie
he wouldn’t hurt her again. He saw the hurt hovering in her eyes and accepted
he had been the bastard who put it there. Goddammit.
You’re such a
good little Samaritan.
Fuck off.
“He’s beautiful, Mac.”
Mackenzie nodded. “Yes. He’s my world.”
“He has your hair.”
“But it’s your color.”
“Is it?” Bari paused, tilted his head in
thought. “His eyes…”
“Yeah…”
“They’re my father’s.”
Mackenzie glanced up, her mouth gaped
open in shock. “I thought your dad’s eyes were brown?”
Bari shook his head. “Not my adoptive
father’s, Mac. My birth father. He had the same gun-metal gray eyes.”
“Oh.”
"I can’t begin to understand what’s
going through your mind right now. What I can understand is that you probably
have about a million and one questions, Mac. While I may not be one who is used
to others asking so much of me, I’m willing to give you your chance to ask what
you need to and will remain completely honest with you on what I can and cannot
handle." That brought another thing to mind. "In fact, Mac, if there
is anything I do that you can't handle, you just say the word. We clear?"
“What if I’d rather not talk about the
past, Bari?”
He drew his brows down, a frown pulling
at his mouth. “Then what do you want to discuss, Mac?”
Mackenzie studied him for a few moments,
her mug sitting between her hands and the ticking of a clock the only sound.
Hell, he had been through classes to evade interrogations with torture and yet
a look, silence, and her eyes had him squirming.
You’re bad
ass, bro.
Very slowly, very deliberately Mackenzie
set down her mug and turned toward him, stepping forward and right up against
his body. His hand holding the mug was pushed aside by hers and guided to the counter
before she leaned up on her toes and brushed her lips, feather soft, over his.
Mackenzie held his hand at the counter, curling her fingers around his as an
electric current pulsed through them both.
Shock and pure, unadulterated lust pooled
deep in his gut. Bari sucked in a sharp breath at the first press of her lips
and shook with the amount of force it was taking to hold him back as she paused
and waited for his reaction. Fuck—this was all he dreamed of for years but now
felt unsure of how much to push. His mind pinged off about a dozen warning
bells. Watching her response carefully, he brushed his lips on Mackenzie’s,
tempting, enticing her to part her lips, and she did. His tongue darted out,
licking the seam of her lips slowly, tasting her. He heard Mackenzie’s breath
catch, felt her lips part on a sigh and took advantage, plunging his tongue
deep inside her mouth. Her taste assailed him, gripped him, and entranced him
to continue. He kept the kiss slow and cautious, not wanting to push her, and
gave in to the temptation she offered: a sweet sip of Mackenzie Walters.
His tongue guided over hers, caressed and
curled around it. He leaned in to her, pulling his hand from the mug, and
palmed her face, deepening the kiss, unable to get enough of her. Something
primitive took over. Something deep inside craved her more than should be
possible. He was a drowning man in a sea full of water. So damn thirsty.
Mackenzie moaned, and Bari swallowed it
with his mouth, answered with a low growl. His hands left her face, guided down
the length of her neck before rolling across her shoulders and down her back.
He wanted to mold her, wanted to trace and learn every curve, every dip of her
body with his hands before retracing it all with his mouth. He wanted so much,
yet not enough, to give and take, to conquer and plunge.
Dropping his hands to her slender waist,
he curved them over her enticing rear and squeezed her body tight to his as he
rose from the stool he was sitting on at the center island. His cock strained
in his pants, begging to be set free.
Down, boy.
His hips rolled, the action intentionally
slow, and as another groan escaped her, he caught it with his mouth. Lifting
up, he palmed her rear and turned, setting her on the counter as he stepped
between her legs. She tasted of heaven and home, of apple and spices, of the
sea and sky; so many different flavors, all identified to that of
his
Mackenzie. His muscles coiled tight,
his need hammering nails in the coffin of his restraint.
Mackenzie broke her mouth from his with a
gasp, and she groaned as his mouth trailed down her neck, nipping and suckling.
The sound was as sweet as sugar would be on his tongue.
“Bari, don’t hold back.”
An answering growl, a labored groan.
Bari’s hands hooked under her thighs and pulled her closer as he bent her body
back on the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and curled her body
to his like someone hanging on for their life. His mouth came back up to hers,
and as he captured her lips, he heard a tortured sigh.
“Mackenzie.” The sigh came from him.
Dishes clattered as he swiped them across
the counter. Bari hovered above Mackenzie, his hands roaming with frantic
movements before he dipped his hand beneath her shirt to seek skin. Under his
palm she was so damn soft, like velvet, so warm to his touch. Warmth he yearned
for on a cold night. He wanted to brand and possess her. The surge of it
shocked him. Bari pulled back and stared down at her. Heavy-lidded eyes stared
up at him, unblinking and heavy with anticipation. His hand paused just under
the swell of her breast, and his fingers moved back and forth in a teasing
caress, just barely brushing the sensitive skin.
“Mackenzie, I’m not going to be able to stop
until you tell me to. You understand?” His voice sounded thick, guttural.
She answered by raising her head and
pulling him down to her seeking lips. Heat pooled low in his stomach as his
hips rolled against hers, eliciting a gasp as he rubbed right against her sex.
His hand brushed under her bra, wrapped around her breast. She felt like
heaven, silk, sweet temptation. Mackenzie moaned into his mouth and pressed her
hips up to meet his in a primal movement as old as time, mimicking the
movements of his tongue in her mouth with her body.
“Mommy!”
Mackenzie’s entire body went rigid at the
sound of Byron’s voice. Bari's breathing sounded harsh in the small room as he
pulled back. His body strained under her presence, and her sweet taste sitting
on his tongue practically drove him insane. She was like his drug, and he was
ever so happy to become an addict. Tossing her a slow grin, he took a step back
and leaned against the counter, his palms coming down to curl under it in an attempt
to hold himself in place. As Mackenzie hopped off the counter, he couldn’t help
himself, and as if it were a natural reaction, he reached out to grab her,
taking her small, petite frame and pulling her body to his. He wrapped his palm
to the back of her head and held her. It felt like a normal thing to do, seemed
as if she fit perfect, brought him such peace it astounded him. His body raged
with demand, filled with need for her but with one touch, his mind wrapped up
the peace somehow offered. The action was so sudden that they both paused,
neither able to move. Bari lowered his hand and ran his fingers along her back,
the action soothing his battered nerves, calming inner turmoil. He never
allowed females in his bed, no one besides Mackenzie close, and never held
anyone so close to his heart but her.
“Mommy!”
“I better go.”
Bari nodded and remembered what he had
been thinking about earlier. “I’m gonna crash right outside tonight. Keep an
eye on the area and make sure you two are safe.”
Mackenzie paused and studied him in that
eerie way of hers again. “Why don’t you just take the guest room, Bari? There’s
no point in sleeping out in the cold when we have more than enough space
inside.”
It’d be hell being so close to Mackenzie
but not in her bed, but it made sense. And it brought up a perfect solution to
his need in appeasing the protective instinct inside. “That sounds like a
better plan. I’m going to catch some sleep. You should do the same.” Bari
brushed his thumb across her swollen lips as she stepped back. Mackenzie turned
from him, their fingers the last to break contact as she walked down the
hallway toward Byron’s room. His gaze roamed the room one last time, taking it
all in, the life she built here with his son. Things were about to change and
that included him becoming a more permanent fixture in their lives. He didn’t
have any kind of promise he could offer the two of them, but he’d be damned if
he could just walk away.
Chapter
Nineteen
Bari heard Alex pound on the door and
knew it was time. One part of him was excited for the reprieve from his own
mind and a chance to get out of the house, away from the constant temptation of
Mackenzie. After several days of keeping watch over them, refusing to let them
out of his sight, and bordering on driving Mackenzie insane, as she so
eloquently told him earlier, he needed to do something more when he felt as if
he wasn’t doing enough.
Bari tossed a black tank top over his
head and pulled the material down to cover his body, setting it over his jeans,
which sat low on his hips. Bari laced up his combat boots and rose, walking
over to grab his faded leather jacket and tossing it over his arm. He walked
out of Mackenzie’s guest room feeling out of place but not wanting to be
anywhere else.
He approached the kitchen, walked around
the corner, and paused at the sight of Mackenzie standing next to the very same
window he’d studied in the room last night. His thoughts came rushing back to
him, and he found it more than a coincidence that what he had pictured last
night matched the very same sight before him now. The sun shone down on her,
making the dark auburn highlights of her hair stand out. Bari didn't make a
sound, didn't move, and drank in the sight of her. She had pulled her hair
back, the tail of her tresses hanging off one of her shoulders and yet with
each movement it seemed to caress her skin the way his hands itched to. He
shook the stupor from himself and walked into the kitchen.
"Morning, Angel."
Mackenzie turned toward him, her entire
face lighting up, and he had a sudden moment’s panic. He was putting that look
there: hope, that’s what he’d call it, and it scared him shitless. No one
should rely on him; he liked it that way, was all too familiar with letting
people down. He didn’t have enough emotion, enough stability in his life. Damn,
his feelings were so mixed up and disharmonized that he found even his own back
and forth choices were even annoying him.
Glancing over at Alex, he saw her brother
studying Mackenzie. A deep frown marred the man’s face before Alex’s light
green eyes caught Bari’s and held them. They narrowed with an unspoken promise,
passed along a threat. Bari shook his head and turned to the mug waiting for
him on the counter. While Alex had already run him through the basic
operation of today, he didn't feel as confident as he would out in the desert
of Iraq with his own team. A set of keys was tossed through the air, and he
lifted a hand on reflex, caught them and turned his palm over. Today his
station was on a motorcycle, nothing compared to the Harley he grew up on, but
it would do for today’s operation. After being in storage for so long, his bike
wouldn’t be ready for a while. The dark monster of a machine was the one thing
he felt assured straddling, and he couldn’t wait to get it between his legs
again. The comparison between what he liked to straddle and what he wanted to
straddle him wasn't lost on him at all, and with a sly grin, he set the mug
down, glanced over at Mackenzie, and sent her a smile he hoped radiated
confidence and security.