Free Falling (11 page)

~*~

Mac sat in the near darkness on the steps of
his back stoop. The gentle pattering if rain combined with the jazz
tune drifting from Free’s open windows relaxed him. He closed his
eyes and rested his head against the railing. He hadn’t taken the
time to just sit back and unwind in a long time. His routine
consisted of working until he exhausted himself and then falling
asleep, sometimes on top of his work.

Maybe John was right. Maybe he did work too
hard. Maybe he needed a break. But what would he do?

Instantly, the image of Free Renzetti popped
into his head. That luscious mane of hair falling around her
shoulders, all silk and curls. And, God, that body. Of course he
hadn’t seen that much of her body. Between those long flowing
skirts and baggy overalls, she managed to keep everything pretty
much covered. But Mac knew she was voluptuous beneath all that
cloth. If he’d had any doubts, yesterday’s little bubble bath
episode had cleared them up. Though the bubbles had kept him from
admiring certain areas of interest, her gently rounded curves had
been obvious.

Free was all woman. Soft and sexy. And Mac
wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life. His
body tightened just thinking about her. And she seemed so innocent
about the real ways of the world. Mac smiled, an unfamiliar
sensation. Sexy, innocent, and gorgeous as hell. What a rare
combination.

She might not be innocent, sexually speaking,
but she definitely looked at life through rose-colored glasses with
a naïveté that made him wince. Free thought the world was still
worth saving. She trusted so completely, automatically assuming
that there would be goodness in all. A girl with a dream of saving
the world and maybe going to Paris. So sweet and so giving, she
made him ache to take what she offered.

But there was no sweetness in him. Mac’s eyes
snapped open. He didn’t give anything. He had business associates,
he didn’t need friends. He had money, he didn’t need family. And
she as hell didn’t need some gypsy turning him inside out.

Mac didn’t care what John or Jake
recommended, he intended to stay clear of emotional entanglements
in general—one with Free Renzetti in particular.

The screen door on the back of Free’s house
slammed and Mac’s gaze darted in that direction. Free, wearing a
log, billowy white dress, drifted outside. She paused on her bottom
step and lifted her face to the rain. Her eyes closed as she seemed
to relish the feel of the cool moisture against her skin.

Striking a pose that took his breath away,
Free waited a beat and then glided across the wet grass like a
graceful ballerina, moving precisely with the rhythm of the music.
Every muscle in Mac’s body hardened as he watched her slow flowing
movements. She whirled around the yard, seemingly weightless and
completely oblivious to his presence.

The bright glow from her kitchen windows and
doors reached into the darkness like spotlights, highlighting her
sensuous movements. Her dress, dampened by the drizzle, became
sheer and gauzy. The moisture evaporated from Mac’s mouth as he
watched the play of light over her lithe body.

When the final notes of the melody floated
through the air, Free slowed to a perfectly-poised conclusion.
Unable to stop himself, he stood and applauded. She whirled around
to face him, all that amazing hair clinging to her shoulders and
breasts.

Mac couldn’t hold back his smile at her
surprised expression. “Breathtaking, Ms. Renzetti.” He gave her one
more round of enthusiastic applause. “Absolutely breathtaking. You
missed your calling, you should have been a dancer.”

Free approached him purposefully, her hands
resting at her waist. “I don’t usually perform for an audience, but
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mr. McFerrin.”

Never in his life had Mac seen a woman so
utterly sexy. Wanting to be closer to her, he moved down one step.
“Oh, I enjoyed it all right.” Another step disappeared between
them, and he watched as she moved closer. “Maybe not as much as
yesterday’s bubble bath, but I definitely enjoyed it.” His smile
widened into a grin when her cheeks flushed. He took the final step
down, then asked, “Do you always dance in the rain?”

“Don’t you?” she returned.

Free stood right in front of him now. The
cool rain pelted his bare chest and back, the wet grass spiked
between his toes, but Mac didn’t care. His gaze was glued to the
translucent material clinging to Free’s breasts. Her dusky nipples
strained against the thin, damp fabric.

When he found his voice, he stammered,
“I…ah…no, I’ve never danced in the rain.” His gaze lifted to hers,
she smiled, and his gut twisted with need.

“Well,” she reached for his hand “there’s no
time like the present.” Free tugged him toward the center of the
yard just as a slow, sultry melody flowed from the depths of her
kitchen.

Mac stiffened, halting her progress. “I’m not
much of a dancer.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had
danced. He wasn’t sure if it had even been in the current
decade.

“It’s not that hard,” she insisted, tugging
him forward one more step.

“Maybe not for you,” Mac muttered, but things
were pretty damned hard from his prospective.

“Nonsense.” Free moved closer to him. “It’s
easy. You just put one hand here.” She placed his right hand on her
left hip. “And the other one here.” Her arms went around his neck
and her chin against his chest.

Mac’s pulse kicked into overdrive. She must
have heard his ragged exhale. “Just relax,” she told him. “Close
your eyes and let the music guide you.”

Free moved in his arms, her body swaying
gently to the music. Mac inhaled the fresh scent of her
rain-dampened hair, closed his eyes and followed her slow, sensual
movements. She wasn’t quite as relaxed as she led him to believe,
though…her body trembled slightly in his arms. Automatically, his
arms tightened around her waist, drawing her nearer. Her breasts
flattened against his chest, making his breath catch. Need welled
inside him with such force that he wasn’t sure he could contain it.
He ached with longing. Desire pumped heat through his veins.

Her lips accidentally brushed his throat.
Free tensed, an almost imperceptible tightening, but Mac felt it.
His eyes popped open and he bit back a desperate groan. How long
had it been? Too long, obviously. That had to be the explanation.
He had simply waited too long for sex. It couldn’t be anything
else. Couldn’t be.

The next touch of her lips was no accident.
Free took her time, planting lingering kisses all along his throat.
Mac squeezed his eyes shut and fought the impulse to drag her to
the ground and take her right there in the rain.

Unable to live another moment without
responding, he nuzzled the crook of her neck, tasted the shell of
her ear. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

She drew back and looked into his eyes. “I’m
sorry…I couldn’t help myself.” She looked as surprised by her
actions as he felt. That startled innocence pulled at something
deep inside him.

Mac made his decision right then and there,
staring into her eyes with the rain falling around them. “Don’t be
sorry,” he whispered as he took her mouth with his own. “Don’t ever
be sorry.” He breathed the words against her mouth, then tugged on
her lower lip with his teeth. He swept his tongue over that
sensitive area behind her lip, teasing, seeking access. She opened
and he dipped inside. Her arms tightened around his neck, and
pressed her body against him. He slid his hands over her bottom and
pulled her against him. She moaned, then stroked his tongue with
her own. Her body felt firm and hot beneath the damp dress. He
wanted her out of it, to feel her skin melding with his.

“I want to take you inside,” he murmured.

Her eyes met his, that deep blue glittering
with desire, rain slipping down her cheeks. She nodded her
approval.

He took her hand in his and they dashed
across the yard. Her laughter echoed through the night and his
heart skipped a beat. How could anything sound that wonderful? He
wanted to hear her laugh again and again. They bounded onto the
stoop, but he couldn’t wait until he got her inside. He whirled her
around and pressed her against the door, covering her mouth with
his. His hands were frantic now, searching, touching, learning her
body. Free matched his frenzy. She kissed him hard, touched him
everywhere.

“Inside…we have to go inside,” she managed to
say between kisses, her breath as ragged as his.

Mac wrapped one arm around her waist and
lifted her against him. He opened the screen door and walked into
his dimly lit kitchen, without ending the kiss. He pressed her into
the wall and intensified his assault. He wanted to be inside her.
He thrust harder into her mouth and ground his hips into hers.

“Not here, not like this,” she protested, her
words hardly a whisper.

“Okay,” he rasped, clutching her to him once
more and moving away from the wall. His wet feet slipped on the
slick tile. “Whoa!” Mac grabbed back his balance and steadied
himself. She didn’t seem to notice or care; she just kept kissing
him—his face, his throat, his chest.

He caressed her bottom, pressing her against
him. Groaning her need, she wrapped her legs around his waist and
squeezed. Desire roared through him. He wouldn’t make it to the
bedroom. Maybe the parlor. He could make it to the parlor.

He stumbled into the parlor, bounced off a
chair, Free’s tongue dueling with his in a mind-numbing kiss.
Staggering and crazy with want, he made it to the sofa and stumbled
onto it, Free still wrapped around him.

He had to touch her breasts.
Now.
His
fingers twisted and tugged at the material, trying desperately to
undo the long row of tiny pearl buttons gracing the front of her
dress. Her fingers buried in his hair, she nipped at his chin,
traced his lips with her tongue. Mac alternately kissed her and
struggled with the buttons. He couldn’t decide which he wanted
more, to kiss her or to feel her skin burning into his. When she
arched against him, Mac lost it completely. He cursed and abandoned
the buttons. He covered one, rosy peak with his mouth, sucking it
through the gauzy fabric.

Free screamed her pleasure, the sound almost
pushing him over the edge. Her hands were all over him now,
fumbling with his snap, then the zipper. His mouth latched onto the
other breast, teasing the nipple between his teeth. Her body bowed
against his, the sudden movement throwing him off balance.
Desperately Mac clutched at the sofa, but it was too late. He
pitched over the edge, Free in tow. Mac slammed against the floor
on his back, her slight weight and the impact forcing the wind from
his lungs.

“Are you all right?” Free asked raggedly,
staring down at him from her perch astride his hips, her eyes
glazed with need.

“I’m fine,” he managed, then rolled her onto
her back, putting him in the dominant position once more. “We just
have to get this dress off you before I lose my mind.” The wet
material just didn’t want to cooperate.

Free quickly joined his frantic efforts to
release the buttons. The difficulty of the task only intensified
their desire. Mac growled in frustration when a button popped off
instead of releasing. Free’s hands suddenly stilled. Her beautiful
blue gaze locked on his.

“Do you have protection?” she blurted
out.

Protection?
He swore. Of course he
didn’t have any protection; he hadn’t expected to need any during
his short stay in Alabama. He rose up on one elbow and plowed a
hand through his hair. “No,” he muttered, hating to have to admit
it and fearing her reaction even more.

She sat up too quickly and their heads banged
together. Free yelped, Mac cursed. When he lifted his weight to one
side to rub his aching head, she wiggled from beneath him and
scurried out of his reach.

“Wait!” He crawled on all fours to where she
sat wrestling to close the buttons they had worked so hard to undo.
“I can go to the store…five minutes. I can be back in five
minutes,” he said in a rush. He cursed himself mentally for the
pleading tone in his voice. He hadn’t begged a woman since—hell, he
couldn’t remember ever begging. But his need for this woman was a
palpable force, a desperate ache in his loins.

She scooted out of his reach again and
struggled to her feet. “This wasn’t a good idea,” she said, her
voice unsteady. Her hands shook when she pushed her damp hair back.
The sheer dress lay plastered to her amazing body. The body he
wanted to possess more than he wanted to take his next breath.

“I should go, before we do something we’ll
regret,” she added as she backed up a step.

Mac got to his feet, his whole body throbbing
with unsated need. He reached out to her, but she dodged his touch.
“I thought you wanted this as much as I did.” He let his hand fall
back to his side. “I know you did,” he told her, leveling his gaze
on hers.

Free licked her lips nervously and averted
her gaze. “I…I didn’t mean to get so carried away.” She gestured
vaguely. “I don’t…don’t usually behave this way.” She lifted her
eyes to his again and they were suspiciously bright. “The truth is
I don’t do casual sex.” She swallowed tightly and sucked in a
ragged breath, then muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Casual sex.
That’s what this was. They
didn’t really know each other and hadn’t even been on a date.

Mac felt like pond scum. Lower than pond
scum. Had he seduced Free? Hell, he thought she seduced
him
.
He passed a hand over his face and then through his tousled hair.
“I guess we both got a little carried away.” In a pathetic effort
to redeem himself, he gave her his best attempt at a smile.

Free nodded adamantly. “You’re right.
Absolutely right.” She backed away two more steps. “We should take
things a little slower. You know—” she stumbled over a chair,
barely catching herself in her haste. Smiling self-consciously, she
eased around the obstacle and continued toward the door, apparently
afraid to turn her back on him for fear he might grab her from
behind. “We could start with a date instead of—” The doorjamb
halted her retreat this time. Mac grimaced at the sound of her
impact with the hard wooden surface.