Lean on Me (The Mackay Sisters) (14 page)

Thank God he had enough sense to
grab her hand before she could rip the zip down.  His shaft was hard, pressing
against the opening, and he had no intention of letting this heated encounter
end painfully.  Angling his hips back, he pushed her hand away and eased the
zip down, moving his head back up so that he covered her mouth in a long, searing
kiss when she protested.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he
growled throatily.  “Nor are you.”  He licked deep, savouring her nectar. 
Fisting his hand into her luxurious locks, he pulled her head back firmly but
carefully, looking his fill of her face.

The passion was plain to see, the heat
of her eyes, the swollen red lips, the hot breaths that came in little pants.

Looking down he saw her breasts,
tear-drop shaped, natural, full and heavy, the pebbled nipples dark pink. 
Beautiful, so bloody beautiful.  Begging to be tasted.

She made a small noise in her
throat, a protest, and when he dragged his gaze back up to her face he saw in
her eyes the sudden shyness, the rising insecurity.

Hell no
.  No way was he
stopping now, no way was he letting her retreat under a tide of self-consciousness,
not when he knew how beautiful she was, how passionate. Not when he knew he was
having her come hell or high water.

She was his.

Without giving her shy withdrawal
any leeway, Matt dropped quickly to his knees, his hands sliding swiftly down
her sides, tracing the indent of her waist before following the generous swells
of her hips.  Fingers digging in to hold her still, he leaned forward to
capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard without any further
preliminaries.

She almost came apart, her hips
undulating, back arching, her fingers sliding through his hair, her gasp of
desire an erotic note to his ears.

As he drew hotly with his mouth on
the nipple, he slid one hand up her belly to cup her other breast, pressing his
palm against it, moulding it, rubbing the nipple there and glorying in the way
it peaked hard, begging.  With a last suck he slid hot, open-mouthed kisses across
her chest, latching on to the other nipple and sucking just as demandingly.

Hands now on his shoulders, her sensual
moans of bliss filled the air.

While he had her mindless, he slid
his fingertips into the waistband of her pants and panties, sliding them down
her hips and rounded thighs to drop at her feet.  One hand at the back of her
knee, a slight urging and she obeyed mindlessly, lifting her foot enough that
he could slip the garments free along with her ballet flat before he did the
same with the other leg.

Now she was naked.

Releasing her nipple, he gave it a
last lave with his tongue, feeling her quake against him.  Tilting his head
back to look up the length of her voluptuous curves to where she stood with her
throat arched, he saw with satisfaction that her head was tipped back as she
bit her lip.

That plump, lush lip that he’d stared
at so many times, that he’d fantasied about, that was being tortured between
her small, white teeth.

One push of his thigh muscles and
he surged upwards, sliding his body against hers as he went until he stood
straight, his hands tracing up to cup her face, angling her head to give him
the best position to take that tortured lip, to break the hold of her teeth and
claim her mouth, his lips on hers, moulding to her, his tongue sweeping in to
brand her with his essence.

Her naked body was pressed against
him as he bent down over her, his hard shaft pressed torturously between them,
her thighs rubbing against his in unspoken desire, the curls protecting her
womanhood caressing him enticingly with every shift of her body.

His heart pounded, his blood a
hot, thick surge that burned in his veins, his shaft aching, urgent, the need
to be buried inside her soft body riding him hard.

As hard and urgent as he meant to
ride her.

This time when he dropped to his
knees he took Lori with him, easing her backwards with one arm behind her back,
the other braced on the floor until she lay flat.

Her fingers spread over his chest
as he continued to kiss her, drinking from her, groaning deep into her mouth as
he felt her hands slide across his chest.  She palmed his pecs, her fingertips
finding his flat male nipples and teasing them taut.

Christ, he was burning up.  It
felt like he had a fever that was searing through his veins, heating him from
the tips of his toes to the top of his head, and everywhere in-between was
burning with the hottest part being at his groin.

Nudging her thighs apart with his
knee, he angled his hips once more, lifting them to push his pants and jocks
down to free his shaft that was already leaking.  It had never felt so hard, so
thick, so painfully erect, and it was with mindless urgency that he swooped
between her legs, his hips forcing her legs wider.  Reaching down, he hooked
his hand behind her knee, bringing it up alongside his hip, opening her to him.

“Oh, Jesus.”  His breath hissed
between his teeth as her wet heat almost scalded the tip of his shaft.

So hot, so creamy, so
needing,
the
woman beneath him his to take, to claim, to brand with his seed.

And so tight as he started to
enter her.

He heard her own breath hiss even
as he registered her tightness.  Opening his eyes to gaze down into her face, he
took a savage delight in knowing that her lips were swollen from his kisses. 
Then he saw the passion-filled heat of her eyes, the desire that burned so
hotly within, and when she looked up at him so wickedly, innocently, yet
totally hedonistically, any last vestige of control Matt had was broken.

One powerful surge of his hips and
he thrust into her, dimly registering the giving of something, hearing her
gasp, but the heat of her, the tightness clasping his shaft, the slickness of
her body and the way she curled into him rather than arch away, swept him away
on a tide of carnal voracity.

Hips pumping, muscles flexing, he
rode her hard, craving her with a covetousness that he’d never experienced
before, his need of her insatiable.  Forearms each side of her, his hands
holding her head as he ate at her lips, taking her mouth almost as ruthlessly
as he took her body.

Every soft curve, every silky rub
of skin, every trace of her scent drove him onwards, wanting more, needing
more, craving more.

Harder he pushed into her,
further, his sac nudging against the seam of her body, his shaft deep inside
that snug, wet heat.

Rather than scaring her off, her
passion matched his.  She accepted him as hungrily, knees bent, willingly
giving him total access to her body, breasts swaying with every punishing
thrust of his hips, her sheath greedily clasping his shaft, inner muscles
squeezing him until he swore he could see stars behind his eyelids.

Bracing his hands on the floor he
moved his head lower, fastening his lips onto her throat, sucking and laving,
licking hotly.

The whole time Matt didn’t slow,
his hips surging forward, tunnelling deep into her, as deep as he could go and
yet wanting to go further, pushing and withdrawing to slam back into the wet
heat.

Lori arched under him, breasts
pressed to his chest, fingers sweeping up his arms, flexing into the bunch of
his muscles, and when he lifted his head to look down at her, it was she who
lunged up to capture his mouth, her tongue sweeping in demandingly, taking from
him just as hungrily.

His heart pounded, seed leaking
from his shaft, and he could feel the tightening of his sac, the erotic pressure
that was building with fiery tongues of flame, the tightening in his lower
back, the coiling heat in his loins.

He couldn’t last much longer. 
Part of him didn’t want to stop, another part wanted to explode inside her, to mark
her, brand her, to have himself so deep inside her that she’d never be able to forget
his presence in her body.

“Matt,” she moaned.  “Oh God,
Matt
.”

The tidal wave was building inside
him, higher and higher, and he shifted, changing the angle of his thrusts, instinctively
hitting something deep inside her that had her opening her eyes to look
directly up at him.

Watching her orgasm was erotic,
the heat flaring in her eyes, her head falling back amidst the wealth of glossy
brown hair that flowed over the floor.  Her lush lips opened on a cry, his name
reverberating in the air.

Her sheath spasmed, muscles
locking down, squeezing his climax from him mercilessly, his hips shoving hard
once, twice, ruthlessly a third time as his seed erupted, coating her sheath.

Braced up on his arms, muscles
bulging from holding his weight, hands flat on the floor, his head back, he
shuddered, hips jerking a fourth time as he emptied inside of her, the tidal
wave crashing down to sweep him under in delicious, mind-blowing ecstasy.

Chapter 6

Lying on her back on the floor,
Lori stared dreamily at the ceiling.  Of course, she had to look past Matt’s
head as he had his face buried in her neck while taking deep breaths, each one a
damp puff of almost hot air on her skin.

Wow
.  That was the only
word for it. 
Wow
.  Such ferocity, such hot sex.  He’d been dominating,
leading her, but she sure as hell hadn’t held back either and that was the
thing she revelled in.  Finally,
finally
, she’d been able to indulge, to
allow her fantasies to run free.  To be herself.

To be sensual and hungry, to touch
and not be afraid of being laughed at, to be aggressive and have it
reciprocated.  To have the man of her fantasies actually set her secret desires
free - well, some of them, anyway - was the icing on the cake.

The man in question was now
slumped over her, his muscular chest pressing her down, holding her flat on the
floor.  Granted, the floor was uncomfortable and her backside was cold from the
tiles, but the whole front of her body was warm.

Lori blinked languorously, a
small, satisfied smile curving her lips. 
Wow again
.  She’d done it,
she’d finally had sex and it had been as awesome as she’d imagined.  Okay, it
had hurt a little at first, that unaccustomed stretching sensation when Matt
had entered her, the piercing of her virginity, but that had paled, washed away
as he’d slid deep inside her and then taken her to a mindless state of emotion
and sensations.

Was there any better way for a
woman to lose her virginity than being taken so thoroughly?

Hell, no.  At least not for her.

She could float on this pleasant
cloud of dreaminess forever.

That was until Matt tensing above
her brought her slowly back to reality.  When he pushed himself upwards to gaze
down at her, she gave him a tentative smile, shyness washing over her as she
met his gaze.  That shyness changed just as quickly to mortification at his
tense expression, the muscle that jumped at the corner of his mouth.

“Are you all right?” he asked
tightly.

“I - um - yes.”  All dreaminess
vanished to be replaced with the knowledge that she was lying underneath a
perfect male specimen.

A male specimen that didn’t look
pleased.

Oh shit
.  Whatever he was
thinking, it definitely wasn’t pleasant.  Matt’s dark eyes narrowed slightly,
his jaw clenched as abruptly he shoved upright onto his knees.

That made her painfully aware of
her naked state, because he was now kneeling between her thighs, every wobbly
bit of her body, every overblown curve and dimple in plain view.  Shame poured
through her.  It wasn’t just at her nakedness, though, even if it was a huge
part right at that moment.

Scrambling on her elbows, she backed
away from him, casting a desperate gaze around to find something, anything, to
drape over her nakedness.

Tea towel?  Too small.  Floor
mat?   Damn, it was on the clothes line.  Napkin?  Okay, now she was getting
ridiculous.  But she sure as hell wasn’t going to lie naked before him.  No way
could she just recline back on her elbows with her legs sprawled out showing
off her wares.

Even as she scrambled upwards,
Matt surged to his feet.  Lucky bloke had his pants around his knees and was
able to bend over too pull them up.  All she could do was dash for the laundry
basket containing the clean but as yet unfolded garments. 

Grabbing the first thing to hand -
thank God it was a dressing gown, she was half prepared for a bra or something
equally as useless right then - she wrapped it around herself, not bothering to
button it up, just holding it closed with her folded arms.

Unable to look at him, she just
stood there, head tilted down, hair falling over her shoulders to hide her
flaming face from Matt’s gaze which she could now feel burning a hole in her.

One cautious peek showed the anger
in his eyes and she bit her lip.

“Lori-”

“Just go.”  She shook her head. 
Just
go and let me collapse in shame
.

“No.”

“Look, it happened, all right? 
I’m sorry.”

“Not as much as I am.”

Oh, that hurt.  It was like a
dagger plunging deep and she couldn’t help but protectively hunch her shoulders
a little.  “Then there’s nothing more to say, is there?”

“There’s a hell of a lot to say.”

He sounded so angry that she
couldn’t help but look up at him once more.  Those brown eyes that had been so
hot with desire, so deep with passion, that could smile so warmly, were now almost
flinty with fury.

The pain that caused her had her
throwing back her shoulders.  Shy she might be but she wasn’t going to tolerate
being ridiculed.  It had happened once before and she’d sworn it wouldn’t ever
happen again.  No way was she going to buckle under her pain, no way was she
going to take all the blame. 

As hard as it was to meet his hard
gaze, she forced herself to do it.  “Forget about it.”

“Not that easy, Lori.”

“It is.”

His nostrils actually flared. 
“For you, maybe.”

God, had making love to her
traumatised him that much?  “I’m sure if you try hard enough, you’ll get over
it.”  Mortified anger had always made her words sharp, something only a few
people had ever experienced.

Right now, Matt had the dubious
honour of being one of the few.

He didn’t blink.  “I won’t ever be
getting over this.”

“Perhaps if you took counselling.” 
Arms still folded tight, she crossed to the kitchen sink, painfully aware of
him watching her every step of the way.  Grabbing a glass she filled it with
water, only remembering that the dressing gown wasn’t fastened when it gaped
open and her belly met the cold metal of the sink.

Swearing silently, she grabbed the
material and buttoned it up, lifting her gaze to the window to see the Matt’s
reflection looking at her.  Staring, in fact, and was that…?  No, it was a
trick of her imagination, the sun on the glass.  Had to be, because that flare
of desire in his eyes was just her over-active and extremely wishful
imagination.

Defiantly she watched him in the
glass, noticing when he blinked and his gaze lifted from her now covered
breasts to her face.  Nope, there was no desire in those eyes.

There was, however, a whole lot of
anger and regret.

Unable to watch those expressions
on his handsome face, she looked down and took several mouthfuls of water,
cursing her shaking hands as several drops spilled over.

“Lori-”

“Don’t make this harder than it
already is, Matt.”  Replacing the glass on the sink, she rested her hands on
the metal.  “You’ll get over it.”

He didn’t move.  “Discussing
this-”

“Will what?  Make it better?  Stop
trying to draw this out into something it’s not.  Just go home, Matt, and leave
me alone.”

There was silence for several
seconds before the sounds of him moving made her half turn her head.

God, he was good to look at, all
rippling muscles, pecs that made her mouth water to run her lips over him, a
taut stomach that had her fingers itching to scrape across them, shoulders she
could grab and hang onto…and a handsome face as hard as granite.  The friendly,
happy Matt she knew was gone to be replaced with a hard-eyed stranger who was
feeling a whole lot of self loathing.

No doubt at shagging the fat,
over-sexed girl next door.

Stop it.  You’re worth more
than that.

But she couldn’t stop watching as
he crossed the floor to where his ripped uniform shirt lay.  Bending down, he
picked it up, balling it into his fist as he straightened and cast her one
long, hooded look before swinging around on his heel and striding from the
kitchen.

His footsteps echoed in the
hallway with every angry step and then the front door clicked shut quietly but
deliberately.

Hand clenched tight around the
glass, Lori took several deep breaths
.  It’s okay, it’s done, he’s gone,
it’s okay.

Only it wasn’t okay, it was as far
from okay as anything could get.  Because of her responses, her emotions that
she’d let take control, her friend was gone, the man she secretly lusted after
but whose friendship she valued so much, was gone.  She’d destroyed everything
by letting her body control her mind, and though it had been the most magical
experience of her life, in the end it had also been the worst.

Did sexual satisfaction replace
good friends?  No.  Because now she felt a loss, felt it so keenly that her
heart ached.

Fury at herself, at her fantasies,
at her sensual feelings, overwhelmed her, threating to choke her, and she was
so bloody furious, so frustrated.  So upset she didn’t know what to do next. 
She knew better, she
should
have known better.  It had happened before
and now it had happened again, though this time was irreparable.

Helpless fury overtook her, the
whole wretched happenings of the day and the humiliation she’d suffered.  Pulling
back her arm she threw the glass into the sink.  It shattered on impact, glass
flying everywhere, shards splintering upwards to drive deep into her hand which
she’d instinctively thrown out to protect herself.

Swearing, she jerked her palm up
to stare at it.  Blood trickled down from several cuts and grabbing her wrist,
she bit her lip.

Tears burned in her eyes.  God,
she just wanted to
scream
!

Maybe she really was having a
breakdown.

Gulping in air, she leaned back
against the kitchen bench, reaching out shakily to pick up a tea towel and hold
it to her throbbing, bleeding palm.

Calm down.  Just bloody calm
down, you dumb sheila
. 
It’s not the end of the freakin’ world.  It
could be worse, so much worse.

“Lori, are you okay?  What
happened?”  Matt’s deep voice came from the doorway to the hall.

It looked like things could get
much worse.

“Just go away, Matt, for God’s
sake.”  Was that wavering voice really hers?  She sound so sickeningly weak and
tearful she wanted to kick herself.

However, it took all she had to
keep her gaze down, to blink back the burning tears and whip her hand behind
her back in a vain attempt to hide her stupid actions from him.

She should have known better.

Dark green pants came into her
view, lace-up boots, and then a gloriously bare stomach.  That she could notice
that mouth-watering six pack while in her humiliated state just showed what a
tramp she was inside. 

The uncontrollable desire to laugh
hysterically wasn’t far off.

There was silence for several
seconds and she just knew he had spotted the broken glass in the sink.  Next
instant he reached behind her, his arm grazing her breast as he did so.  Was it
sick of her to feel that touch through the thin cotton, to feel it all the way
down to the soles of her feet?  Soles, hell, make that her nipples, because
they were pebbling brazenly.

However, that feeling diminished
when he brought her hand between them, his other hand pulling away the tea
towel so he could study her palm.

“Lori,” he said, his voice so
deep, so gently admonishing that she had to swallow the lump in her throat.

Yep, that had certainly gotten rid
of any further lustful feelings because shame had just bumped it down low on
the list.

“I’m all right.”  She tugged at
her hand.

Refusing to relinquish it, Matt
placed one hand at her side, turning her so that she faced the sink.  Standing
beside her, his bare arm brushing against her, Matt turned on the water and
held her hand beneath the light spray.

It hurt and she instinctively
tugged again at her hand, but he had a strong grip on her wrist.

The silence in the kitchen was
almost deafening as the water washed the shards of glass and lines of blood
from her palm, though more blood welled up from the cuts.  He washed her hand
in silence and unless she wanted to make another scene - it seemed that was her
calling today - Lori could only stand still and let him attend her.

Once he had her hand washed to his
satisfaction, he opened the drawer and took out a clean tea towel, pressing it
firmly to her palm.  One hand at her back again, he turned her and propelled
her across to the kitchen table, seating her at one of the chairs and placing
her other hand on the tea towel in a silent command to keep it there.

Keeping her eyes on her hands,
Lori was nevertheless intensely aware of him moving, retrieving the first aid
kit from the pantry and returning to hook his boot around the rungs of one of
the chairs and drag it in front of her before dropping into it.

Sitting before her, his knees each
side of her own, he leaned forward and tended to the injuries in silence,
pulling several shards of glass from her palm with tweezers, dabbing it with Betadine
before applying a dry dressing and a bandage.

She couldn’t bring herself to
break the silence.  What was there to say?  Instead, she kept her gaze riveted
on his hands so sure and strong as he fixed her stupid accident.  His clean,
masculine scent played havoc with her senses with every breath she took, and
the flex of his muscles in his arms and stomach as he reached out to gather
what he needed from the first aid kit was a shameful gift.

No doubt he thought her anything
but a gift.  More like a curse right now.

Once he’d finished bandaging her
hand, she muttered ‘thanks’ but still couldn’t look up at him.  Shame burned
her cheeks.  One kind word from him would have her curling up into a ball in a
corner.

If she was a weak ninny, that was,
so no way.  She’d hold her head up proudly and dare him to say anything.  Well,
she’d hold it up proudly as soon as she could bring herself to look at him.