Free Falling (16 page)

The long fingers of one hand closed around
her breast. Free gasped, drawing in his warm breath. His thumb
flicked her nipple, teasing the tight bud beneath the thin, soft
cotton. Free plunged her hands into his hair, reveling in the silky
length. She slipped her tongue inside his mouth and matched his
frenzy, searching, teasing. The tip of his tongue swept over her
lips and then dipped inside once more. Free sucked him deeper,
wrenching a low, primal groan from Mac. He ground his hips into
hers, pressing her into the wall. Free matched his groan with a
primitive sound of her own.

“I want you,” he growled against her lips,
his gaze locking on hers. His breath raged in and out with the
growing force of his need. Free’s own breathing was as ragged as
his. His body felt so hot and hard against hers, it seemed to burn
her through the layers of clothing.

“I want you, Mac,” she whispered in
response.

Mac paused as if contemplating the next move,
then suddenly he jerked off his coat and tossed it onto the floor.
His tie followed. Free forgot her inhibitions and began to unbutton
his crisp, white shirt. His hands moved to the thin straps of her
sundress. He pushed them down slowly, his eyes riveted to her
breasts as the fabric lowered.

His mouth followed his gaze and latched onto
one breast. Free arched into him and buried her fingers in his
hair. He suckled one breast until she writhed against the wall,
then he moved to the other. She almost screamed her pleasure when
he pulled her hips hard into the thickness straining against his
slacks.

Reaching past her, Mac lowered his zipper.
Slowly he dragged the dress down until it pooled around her bare
feet. His lips followed the material’s decent. His hands clasped
tightly around her waist and his tongue blazed a trial to her
naval. Tension coiled tighter and tighter in Free’s center as
liquid heat sped through her veins. She felt ready to explode, but
need continued to build inside her. She’d never experienced such
madness.

“Mac,” she pleaded. “Please.” Se begged him
to do what she couldn’t name. Free could only pray that he knew how
to assuage this desperate ache building inside her.

He straightened. His mouth covered hers in a
kiss so desperate, tears sprang to her eyes. Free fisted her hands
in his shirt and ripped it open, watching the remaining buttons
fall to the floor. She had to touch him, to feel the very strength
and sinew of him. Free pushed the shirt off his shoulders. He
moaned low in her throat at the feel of his muscled shirt. Her
palms glided over taut, hot skin.

Mac stilled, save for his ragged breathing.
He looked away and swore. Free flinched. Her body throbbed with
need, her heart pounded in anticipation. He couldn’t stop now. Not
for anything. “What’s wrong?” she gasped.

Mac plowed a shaky hand through his hair, his
gaze moving to hers. “I still don’t have any protection.” He
uttered the words like a self-imposed death sentence, his eyes
closing with regret. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered with a
shake of his head. He opened his eyes to her and explained, “I
haven’t had unprotected sex since I was a teenager.” A burst of
frustration blew past his lips. “You have me completely out of
control.”

Free gulped on a breath. “Me either.” She
managed a smile. “I mean I haven’t had unprotected sex since I was
a teenager either,” she clarified.

Mac pressed his forehead to hers. “If we’re
both so careful, how did we wind up in this predicament?” he
lamented.

“I…I guess I’m out of practice,” Free
offered. Her hands continued to caress his beautifully sculpted
chest. “It’s been a long time,” she added self-consciously and
averted her gaze.

His hand tightened on her waist. While the
other threaded through her hair. Mac tilted her head back, forcing
her to look at him. His lips quirked into a smile. “How long?” he
teased.

“A very long time,” she admitted
reluctantly.

He pressed her with his gaze, eyes twinkling
with mischief that barely concealed the raw lust beneath. “Be
specific,” he prodded. “How long?”

Free ducked her head and mumbled, “Seven
years.”

“Seven years?” he said incredulously.

She nodded without looking up.

“
Seven years?
But why?” he demanded,
his disbelief a palpable force.

Free shrugged, still unable to meet his gaze.
“I don’t know. It was just that one time, and after that I—”

“One time?” he echoed, tipping her chin up so
he could see her eyes.

Free blinked and tried to look away, but he
wouldn’t let her. “It wasn’t that great,” she admitted as if that
explained it all.

His gaze held hers, all that twinkling
mischief and intense lust melting into something else. Something
Free couldn’t identify, but it looked a lot like tenderness. Her
heart squeezed. Mac kissed her gently then bent to pick up her
dress, drawing it back up around her waist.

Suddenly, Free knew what she wanted to do.
What she wanted more than anything in this world. She pressed her
hands against his forearms, halting his movements. “Make love to
me, Mac.”

He stopped trying to dress her. The fabric
slipped from his fingers and the dress puddled around her feet once
more. Mac stood absolutely still, his questioning gaze searching
hers. Free wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth
down to hers. “Kiss me,” she demanded softly.

He obeyed.

Still kissing her, Mac lifted her against him
and carried her to the quilt. He eased her down onto the
age-softened material and aligned his body with hers.

Slowly, he kissed his way down to her
panties. Free shivered as he dragged the bright scrap of yellow
satin down her legs. He paused to deposit a lingering kiss on her
rose tattoo. He fingered the silver chain around her ankle, then
smiled at her, stealing her already sparse breath.

He stood, kicked off his loafers and, in one
smooth motion, shed his slacks and boxers. She felt lightheaded and
giddy when her eyes roamed the length of him. He was beautiful.
Wide shoulders, sculpted chest, lean waist and narrow hips,
muscular thighs. Free’s heart fluttered wildly in her chest at just
how generously endowed he was.

Her eyes widened. He was…he was…looking at
her, she realized nervously. She tried to conceal herself. It was
all she could do not to scramble away when he knelt beside her. His
gaze moved over her with masculine appreciation apparent on his
face. He leaned toward her. His gentle smile and that slight tremor
in his hands reminded her that she didn’t have to be shy with
him.

“Free.” He whispered her name against the
shell of her ear, sending a thrill right through her. “I want this
to be special for you. Tell me how you want me to touch you.”

She moistened her lips and flattened her
palms against his shoulders, just in case. “The normal ways will be
fine,” she murmured, keeping her gaze locked on his awesome pecs.
She drew in a breath that expanded her lungs and brushed her
nipples against his bare skin. Mac’s soft chuckle at her words
ended on a shudder when her taut peaks grazed his chest.

“How about like this,” he suggested as he
nibbled her neck.

“That’s”—Free’s breath caught—“fine,” she
managed.

When his hungry mouth moved to her breast,
she almost howled with delight. “Mac, oh, God, that’s—”

“Better than fine?” he offered, his mouth
tender against her sensitive flesh. She could only nod. He moved
lower, nibbling, suckling, kissing.

“Oo-oh!” she murmured when his mouth reached
her pelvis.

Mac groaned with need as he pushed her knees
up and bared the most private part of her completely to him. The
first thrust of his tongue sent her senses into overload. She
couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe. She could only pray that he
wouldn’t stop loving her that way. With his mouth, he aroused her
almost unbearably, finding and paying special attention to a
certain spot. Waves of pure pleasure crashed over her. When her
tremors began to ease, she was vaguely aware of him moving over
her, but she couldn’t open her eyes. Her senses couldn’t take that
kind of stimulation. She could feel him touching her, kissing her
body, murmuring sweet sounds. She tried to speak but couldn’t, so
she simply smiled in the aftermath of her very first climax. He
opened her thighs and she responded instantly, instinctively.
Opening, stretching, molding to him as he filled her in one long,
slow thrust. She gripped his shoulders and screamed her pleasure
and the delicious madness started all over again.

A primal sound rumbled from Mac’s throat as
he moved inside her. Slowly at first, then faster and faster. Free
forced her eyes open to watch what was happening between them.
Mac’s eyes were closed, his handsome face intent. His muscles were
rigid, straining for release. His hips flexed powerfully, filling
her completely with each thrust, pushing her toward the peak she
now recognized and longed for with every fiber of her being.

Free arched up, matching his rhythm. That
frantic pleasure burst inside her, an explosion of sensations that
carried her over that ultimate pinnacle. Mac followed her there.
Their bodies melted together, hearts pounding. He threaded the
fingers of one hand into her hair and kissed her gently,
thoroughly.

Save for their ragged breathing, silence
enveloped them. Long, golden beams of sunlight moved across the
floor, caressing their bodies with warmth. Their eyes met and
something shifted near Free’s heart. In that ethereal moment she
felt closer to Mac than she had ever felt to another human being.
Connected…beyond the physical. And when he smiled, he touched
something deep inside her. Tears sprang unbidden and her chest
tightened unbearably.

Mac brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek
and pressed a tender kiss there. When he looked deeply into her
eyes, Free saw more than the ebbing passion and sated need. She saw
a kind of sadness that tugged at her heart.

He managed a strained version of his previous
smile and murmured, “How am I ever going to break your spell, gypsy
lady?”

Chapter Eight

“You’re sure this is the only way?” Free
asked again as she surveyed the modern lobby of McFerrin
Enterprises’ Huntsville offices. Glass and steel formed the outer
walls of the immense structure. The veined marble floor inside
echoed every footfall. Large green plants and designer trees
dominated the decorating scheme.

“It’s the only way,” Alex reiterated. She
arched one dark eyebrow in question. “You’re not chickening out on
us, are you?”

Free smiled and surveyed the small group
which had gathered. Mr. Towery, three other residents from Chenille
Street, and her assistant Lance peered at the architectural models
gracing elegant display tables as if they had never seen anything
as interesting as McFerrin designs.

“No,” Free admitted. “I just feel”—she glared
down at the getup she was wearing—“ridiculous in this outfit.” Not
to mention, she was sore in certain private places. She’d only been
with one other guy and, like her, he’d been just a kid at the time.
Free glanced at Alex. Maybe later she could talk to Alex. See if
all these intense feelings were par for the course.

“You look great,” Alex gave Free a careful
once-over. “You should dress like this more often.”

Then again, Free decided, maybe not. Knowing
Alex’s take on the independent female, her friend would think Free
old-fashioned for feeling anything but sexually satisfied. “Yeah,
right. It would do wonders for my reputation as a businesswoman.”
Free sucked in a breath and tried to hold it. The dress was too
tight. Alex had a more slender figure. Free filled out the spandex
in ways that had never been intended by the designer.

Alex glanced at her watch. “Ten-fifteen. Time
to go.” She nodded to Mr. Towery and headed for the bank of
elevators.

Free followed, balancing precariously atop
the cherry-red stiletto heels. Her heart hammered frantically.
I
can do this,
she repeated silently.

Why did the first and only man she had ever
truly wanted have to be all wrong for her? Their lives were worlds
apart. Mac didn’t want to share his life with anyone; and
if
he ever changed his mind, he certainly wouldn’t want to spend it
with her. Free’s soul ached with the loss of something she’d never
even had.

She forced her eyes to open and heaved a
bone-weary sigh. How could she think for one second that a man like
Mac would be interested in a woman like her, for more than what
they’d shared on the floor of that old house anyway? He was
sophisticated and intelligent, and she was just a plain old country
girl.

She had given him the only thing she had to
give, and he’d hurried away at the first chirp of his cell phone
with a promise to call her later.

He hadn’t called.

Free stared down at her shiny red shoes as
the elevator bumped to a stop. Oh, his secretary had called to ask
if Free would check on Oliver since Mac would be working late, but
nothing else. Later, around midnight, he had come home. Free had
watched from the darkness of her bedroom window as he trudged up
the steps and into his house. She had longed to run out the door
and throw herself into his arms.

But she hadn’t.

Dressed in their Sunday best, the little
group shuffled off the elevator. Free reluctantly followed. Mac
would be going back to Atlanta soon. Alex had told her that,
according to Jake, Mac had only come to Huntsville for a few weeks.
Free should never have allowed herself to fall for him like this.
She was only going to wind up with a broken heart.

She paused in the wide, stylish hall. She did
a quick inventory of all that she felt, and winced. She was in love
with him already. Lord have mercy, she loved Mac McFerrin.