Taste of Passion (Madaris Novels) (24 page)

BOOK: Taste of Passion (Madaris Novels)
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“That’s right,” he said, pressing his body closer to her bowed one, sandwiching her between the hardness of his body and the windowsill. “Now we’re going to mate.”

Her pulse leaped at his words, her breath caught in her throat. Before she could sink down to the floor from weakened knees, he leaned over and captured her lips while his hands kneaded her breasts. She tilted her head back to let him have his way with her mouth, and he slid his tongue intimately back and forth between her lips before staking a claim when she opened her lips on a breathless sigh. He kissed her with a hunger that she could feel all the way to her bare feet and she couldn’t do anything but kiss him back with that same greediness, that same desperation, entwining her tongue with his, dueling not for control but for self-preservation.

And then his hands moved from her breasts to rest upon her hips, to ease her panties down her legs. He paused a moment and from the sounds behind her Mackenzie knew he was removing his own clothes. And then moments later he returned to her, resting his hard engorged erection against her backside, skin to skin, flesh to flesh.

He leaned toward her back and with his mouth he branded her in the center of her back and vamped her brain in the process. At the moment she couldn’t think. She didn’t want to think. She could barely breathe. All she wanted to do was satisfy the driving need that was racing through her, bombarding her senses, rushing through her veins.

“Hold tight.”

Those words were probably the last she remembered before she felt his knee nudge her thighs apart, sweeping his hand between them. The moment his fingers touched her womanly core she moaned out his name. Heat stirred everywhere he made contact. How had she missed such an intimate touch as this? The provocative caress of his hand expertly stroking her sent sharp sensations plummeting through her. There was something about his touch—the
way he fondled her was a skill he had cultivated into an art form.

She gripped the windowsill tighter as currents swept through her, amazed at how the curve of her bottom seemed to fit perfectly to the front of him. And when he clutched her hips tightly she felt it the moment he placed the head of his erection, there, right there, at her womanly core.

And then he eased inside of her, filling her in a way that only he could do, going deep, all the way to the hilt, then withdrawing. Over and over he repeated the process, thrusting back and forth inside of her in long, sinuous strokes. Again and again. Whatever was driving him was also driving her. It was as if he wanted to lose himself in her and she wanted him to be lost inside of her.

Her body began to quiver when she felt an eruption about to take place inside of her. Sensations caused heat to flare within her, starting at the base of her toes and moving quickly up her spine. Her moans became sobs and her inner muscles clenched him in a way that only made him increase his thrusts.

“Luke!”

She was suddenly swept away on a wave that had the force to push her to the stars, and she went there, taking him with her when she heard his guttural moan just seconds before he filled her body with his hot release.

She hadn’t been aware her body was capable of getting in a bowed position, hadn’t been aware that a joining so forceful could end up being so compelling, and could leave her so complete yet utterly drained. She had wanted him. She had needed him.

And for all intents and purposes, she had gotten him.

 

The ruggedly built man regarded the man standing beside him at the bar with uncertainty in his gaze. “And you’re sure that’s what the boss wants us to do?”

“Yes, for now. I know you were beginning to have fun but we have to pull back for a while. Neither of us wants
to do any jailtime and so far no one has gotten hurt. All we did was deliver several warnings.”

“And if the little lady doesn’t heed our warnings?”

“Then we might have to take more drastic actions but that will be for the boss to decide.”

Chapter 19
 

 

“So, Mac, how was your weekend?”

Mackenzie glanced across the conference table and caught both Sam’s and Peyton’s curious gazes and tried to ignore them. She was very much aware of what had prompted Sam’s question. It was the hickey Luke had placed on the side of her neck. She had tried covering it up with a scarf but it hadn’t worked.

Knowing they were waiting for an answer, she pushed away from the table to lean back in her chair and said, “My weekend was just fine, Sam, what about yours?”

Sam chuckled. “Evidently not as good as yours.”

Mackenzie couldn’t help but smile. “Well, what can I say?” She decided not to divulge any details although she was sure her two best friends were ready to hang on her every word. Instead she decided to change the subject. “Thanks for handling things when I was out of the office while Jake Madaris was in town last week.”

Peyton’s features then turned serious. “You don’t have to thank us. Have the police found anything yet?”

Mackenzie shook her head disappointedly. “No, although they were able to tell from the tire tracks that a pickup truck was on my property around the same time the cattle were poisoned. And they know what kind of poison was used and are trying to track the purchase of it to a nearby hardware store.”

Sam nodded. “I’m sure Mr. Madaris was upset about his cattle?”

“Yes, but not as much as he could have been. He’s putting his faith in the authorities to find the person or persons responsible.”

“And you still think Whitedyer is involved?” Peyton asked.

Mackenzie sighed deeply. “I can’t think of anyone else that it could possibly be. Besides, I wouldn’t put anything past Farley. One minute he’s sending subtle hints that I should get off the case and then the next he’s letting me know how anxious he is to humiliate me in the courtroom.”

“He’s probably trying to throw you off balance,” Peyton responded.

Mackenzie couldn’t help but agree. She knew she had to stay focused now, more so than ever. “One good thing is that Luke’s cousin and his wife, who are well-known attorneys in Texas, are looking into several eminent-domain cases for me. Since we know Farley is going to use the argument that taking Mr. Coroni’s land will benefit the economy, I need to come up with something to counterattack that claim.”

Sam leaned back in her chair. “What about all those layoffs Whitedyer did earlier this year?”

“Yes, but they have promised to return those employees to their jobs if they can get Coroni land in order to expand. If you saw the newspaper this morning then you know that all the public statements coming from Whitedyer are designed to make us look like the bad guy and to garner public sympathy and support. Times are bad and people want to work. I can understand that. But at the same time a man’s rights are being taken away. He’s being forced to give up the only home he has known. He has offered Whitedyer the use of some of his land but they want all or nothing. That type of greed is totally incomprehensible to me.”

No one said anything for a while and then Sam asked, “And how is Mr. Coroni doing?”

Mackenzie smiled sadly. “He came home from the hospital last week and is doing okay. Of course he’s worried by what he’s seen on the television and read in the papers. If Whitedyer is trying to make us look bad then of course they are trying to make him look even worse. He’s had to get his phone number changed. People were calling, angry and upset.”

Peyton sighed. “When will it all end?”

Mackenzie glanced over the table and met Sam’s and Peyton’s gazes. “How about in two weeks? I got a call this morning. The judge has set a date. We’ll be in court two weeks from today.”

 

“So, there you have it, Luke, I think it will be a wonderful way to ease you back onto the rodeo circuit, and the guys are looking forward to seeing you again.”

Before Luke could respond, Cam then added, “Besides, Cisco is getting restless and this will be a good way for you to give him a good workout.”

Luke thought about what Cam had suggested. Both of them occasionally participated in the Bill Pickett International rodeo where they had both gotten their start. Pickett, a legendary cowboy and rodeo star of African-American and Indian descent, was the inspiration that gave birth to America’s only touring black rodeo.

Luke sighed deeply. Cam had suggested that once he was given the okay from the doctor he could ease back into rodeo by participating in the Glenn Turman Relay Race that was presented by the Bill Pickett Memorial Scholarship Fund. Part of the profits from the rodeo went to the scholarship fund, which was set up for students who either competed in the rodeo or who were working toward a degree in equine or animal science.

Like Cam, he always enjoyed participating in the relay race and it was a good way to give Cisco the workout he needed while contributing to a worthy cause. So why was he hesitating about doing it? A name quickly came to mind.

Mac.

Agreeing to participate meant he would need to head out to Los Angeles where the event would be held next week. Once he left the ranch to return to the world of rodeo, he would have no reason to return here. No reason to seek Mac out ever again. They both understood what it would mean the day he left, and as much as he wanted to return to the circuit he didn’t look forward to leaving.

“Luke?”

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. His body, his mind, and every part of him had gotten used to being here with her. “Yes?”

“Can we count you in, man?”

“Yes, go ahead,” he agreed tautly. “I’ll know for certain after my visit to the doctor on Thursday.”

“All right, I’ll check back with you on Friday and if everything is on go then I can drive over from Missouri to pick you up Saturday morning.”

“Make it Saturday evening.”

There was a pause. “Oh, okay. Sure. Saturday evening it is.”

A half hour later and Luke was still pacing the confines of Mac’s living room. Why was the thought of leaving Mac behind so complicated? He was a loner. He liked his space. He didn’t have claims on any woman and no woman had a claim on him. The only difference between him and Blade was that Blade loved a lot of women, where he was content to have one on a need-be basis. When had that changed?

When had the thought of kissing a woman started bringing instant memories of Mac to his mind? Memories of his mouth on hers. In hers. Devouring her in deep heated kisses. The kind where she would automatically melt into him, wrap her arms around his neck, and be submerged in the kiss with as much hunger as he had.

And heaven forbid, he didn’t want to think about how it felt to wake up with her in the morning; to find their bodies in some cases still entwined; her hair in a tumble of sexiness over her face. Then there was the lovemaking itself, the kind that left him breathless, depleted, drained,
but so utterly fulfilled and satisfied he hadn’t thought it was possible. No other woman had the ability to make him feel that way. No other woman.

And that, he admitted, was the crux of his problem and was probably a good reason why it was time to leave. Around Mac he felt things he shouldn’t. Things that he didn’t want to feel. He knew his life’s calling and at the present time it didn’t belong to a woman. His life belonged on the rodeo circuit. That’s where he wanted to be and that’s where he would be headed after this week. He had enjoyed his time here with Mac but now he had to move on.

Opening the front door, he stepped out on the porch and glanced around. This place had started growing on him and that wasn’t good. He enjoyed being here too much. He hadn’t encountered the restlessness he’d assumed he would feel. Some days he would actually wake up with a strange feeling that this was where he belonged. But he would immediately quash such nonsense.

And then there was that business with Mac and Whitedyer. The authorities still didn’t have any leads regarding either incident and Luke was bothered by the idea there could be another scare tactic planned. There was no way he could eliminate the threat but he intended to do whatever he could to make sure Mac was protected after he left. He would talk to Jake and ask that his men hang around for a while and watch the place, protecting Mac after he was gone.

Luke leaned against the rail and sighed deeply. At dinner tonight he would tell Mac there was a chance he would be leaving soon.

 

Sheik Rasheed Valdemon glanced over at his good friend Jake Madaris, remembering just how their friendship had begun several years ago. It was a solid friendship, one that had grown stronger over the years. Jake was a man of his word. He was a man that Rasheed knew he could trust. A couple of years ago when Jake’s niece had been in a dangerous situation, Rasheed had managed to rescue her from
the clutches of madmen, something that had earned him the never-ending appreciation of the Madaris family. They had shown their appreciation by making him an honorary member of the Madaris family. So now, on occasion, while traveling extensively in the United States, and while conducting certain types of business on American soil, he used the name Rasheed Madaris with their blessing.

Whispering Pines was a long way from Rasheed’s homeland in the Middle East, but when he had been confronted with a matter that needed his undivided attention, the Whispering Pines Ranch was the first place he had thought about to get the solitude that he needed.

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