Guard of Honor by Tracie Delaney

Chapter Nineteen

Tendrils of mistrose from the crystal-clear waters of the lake, reaching up to the ominous clouds looming overhead. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed immediately by a deafening clap of thunder. Blobs of rain kissed the deck, slowly at first, then building until the rain poured in a single, continuous sheet.

The last three days had passed by in a blur, and Honor hardly recognized the frightened-of-her-own-shadow woman who’d traveled from Manhattan in the hope of rediscovering herself. Instead, she’d found a far better version, one who stopped to appreciate the wondrous world around her. To feel the rain pelt her skin, to smell the flowers, to watch the majesty of a bird of prey soaring overhead. To look up at the mountains and realize how small and insignificant humans really were.

Honor stepped from underneath the awning and turned her face skyward. In seconds, her thin T-shirt and denim shorts were soaked through. Laughter spilled out of her, and once she started, she couldn’t stop.

The pre-abduction Honor had lurched from place to place, always in a hurry. The post-abduction Honor had cocooned herself in an imaginary bubble in the hope that she could escape the horrors that lived inside her mind.

But this new woman was someone she didn’t recognize. She hadn’t suffered a single nightmare since they’d arrived, nothing weird had happened—apart from finding Bubsy in her suitcase and that had technically occurred back in Manhattan. All her personal items were exactly where they were supposed to be, and she hadn’t done anything crazy, such as stuffing her cell phone in the freezer or putting orange juice instead of creamer in her coffee. It was as if Mack had been right that a change of scenery was exactly what she needed to soothe her body, mind, and soul. She looked forward to each day with a renewed sense of excitement now, and just the simple act of a few good nights’ sleep had been revolutionary. The dark circles underneath her eyes were gradually vanishing, and she had a healthy glow to her cheeks.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She twirled around, arms over her head, grinning at Mack’s incredulous expression. “I’m dancing.”

“Get inside, you crazy woman, before you catch a cold.”

She ignored him, enjoying far too much the needles of rain against her skin. It made her feel alive. Another loud snap of thunder echoed through the mountains.

“Come join me!”

“It’s six o’clock in the morning.”

“So?” She threw her arms out wide. “I made it, Mack. He didn’t break me.”

“Damn fucking right he didn’t.” Mack strode outside, cursing as rain poured off the roof, gushing down the back of his T-shirt. He tugged it over his head and threw the sopping-wet material on a nearby chair.

“Ohhh.”

Honor’s dancing came to a shuddering halt, and she openly stared. Ropes of muscle covered his chest, shoulders, and arms. The ridges of his abs stood out, his skin already soaked from the heavy rain. A trail of dark hair ran in a straight line down from his navel, disappearing inside jeans that snugly caressed his hips. Even the black ink of his tattoos didn’t detract from how magnificent he was.

Seeing him in silhouette was one thing, but this… She didn’t dare blink in case he vanished and she woke up to find it was all a dream.

Mack’s lips angled upward. “Your mouth is hanging open.”

“And you’re…” She blew out a breath between pursed lips. “Hot.”

He chuckled. “Stand out here for much longer and I’ll be fucking freezing.”

She walked over to him, trailing a fingertip between his pecs, over the crest of his abs. They flexed, and a tremor rippled across his skin.

“I’m ready,” she whispered. “I’m so ready. I want you, Mack. I want to sleep with you.”

He paused, searching her eyes, her face. “Won’t be any sleeping, Red.”

Mack bent his knees and swooped her into his arms. Leaving a trail of water through the house, he marched upstairs and headed straight for her bedroom. She’d left her door ajar, and he booted it open, striding directly into the bathroom. He set her down, then leaned into the shower and turned it on.

“Take off your clothes,” he rasped.

“You first,” she whispered, an attack of embarrassment overcoming her. She wouldn’t bail, not this time, but in her mind, she’d imagined their first time to be at night, where she could turn out the lights, and along with them, any awkwardness, too. She’d been naked in front of men before, but usually after a couple glasses of wine, which had helped. Stone-cold sober and aware that she needed at least ten pounds on her frame, her natural reserve and bashfulness came to the forefront.

Mack unbuttoned his jeans and tugged down the zipper. Peeling the wet denim down his legs, he stood there in a pair of black boxer shorts, his erection noticeable—and huge. Her tongue dampened her lips as he removed his underwear. His cock jutted straight out, the foreskin almost concealing the red tip, a bead of moisture peeking from the tiny slit at the top. She’d never been with an uncut guy before. Would it feel different? Then again it’d been so long since she’d had a man inside her…

Oh god. She swallowed, heart strumming inside her chest, stomach tied in knots.

“Your turn.”

She dragged her gaze up to his face. “You do it,” she husked.

He shook his head. “I want to watch, and this way, you stay in control. You decide to stop at any time, that’s good with me. You feel me, Red?”

“Yes.”

She took so long that by the time she discarded her soaking-wet bra and panties and tossed them over the side of the tub, steam had filled the bathroom, providing a shield of sorts. It took all her might to stop her arms from automatically curving around her body in an attempt to cover up. What was the point?

“C’mere.”

Two nervous steps brought her flush with his body. He threaded his fingers through hers, and they ducked under the hot spray.

“Relax,” he murmured.

Picking up the shampoo bottle, he squirted a dollop into his palm and proceeded to wash her hair. Groaning, she let her chin fall to her chest, savoring his strong fingers massaging her scalp.

“I thought we were going to… have sex.”

He chuckled. “Ever heard of foreplay?”

“You don’t strike me as the kind to take it slow.”

“I have my moments. Put your head back.”

She did as she was told. He rinsed her hair, then added conditioner. Sneakily, she peeked down to see if he was still hard. Christ, was he ever. Harder, if that was even possible. A snap of anxiety shot up her back. That’s going to sting.

“Turn around. Put your hands on the wall.”

“What are you going to do?” she breathed.

“Worship you.”

“Mack, I haven’t… for a long time.”

“That makes two of us.”

Oh.

This was news. A man like him, so masculine, surely he had women lining up around the block, vying to share his bed for the night, or longer.

“How come?”

He bit down on her shoulder, not harshly, but she felt it all the same, his teeth cutting into her flesh. And then he laved it with his tongue, soothing the ache.

“You ask too many questions. Close your eyes and just feel, Honor. Let your body lead the way. It knows what to do.”

She rested her forehead against the tiled wall and did as he suggested. Cutting off the visuals heightened her other senses, and she melted as his big, strong hands explored her. Sweeping soaking hair over her shoulder, his lips traveled along her nape, her shoulder. His teeth nibbled her earlobe.

Electricity sizzled through her veins, her nerve endings coming alive beneath his touch. He eased a knee between her thighs and parted them. And then his fingers were there…

“You doin’ okay?”

“Yes. God, yes,” she gasped.

Great. I sound like one of those telephone sex lines.

He pressed his thumb to her clit, then slowly, so slowly, he rubbed across, then down, and then around in a circle. Grasping her chin, he twisted her head and closed his mouth over hers, and as his tongue slipped between her lips, he pushed two fingers inside her.

Her hips jerked forward at the intrusion, and he stilled, but he didn’t take them out, and he didn’t stop kissing her. Her muscles relaxed, and only then did he move his fingers, leisurely, as if he had hours to spare. She’d imagined he would be more of a bump-and-grind, rough, harsh, taking-what-he-wanted-without-apology kind of guy. He’d alluded to as much back in Manhattan, yet here he was treating her as if she were made of glass.

The orgasm crept up on her, and like a building blown apart by a missile, she exploded, coming all over his fingers. She tore her mouth from his, panting for air. Her knees buckled. Mack wrapped an arm around her middle, his strength the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor.

Loose-limbed and sated, she shifted her body to face him. He skimmed up her sides with the tips of his fingers, then covered her breasts, his hands swallowing them whole.

“They’re too tiny.”

“More than a handful’s a waste.”

“That’s just something men say to make women feel better. All guys love big boobs.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you purposely trying to kill the buzz as a roundabout way of telling me you don’t want to fuck?”

“No!” she exclaimed.

“Then don’t put words in my mouth or lump me into that ‘all guys’ bullshit group. I’m not a paid-up member, and I don’t plan to be either. You wouldn’t like it if I lumped you in with ‘all women,’ so don’t expect me to when you do the same.”

A blast of desire sped through her bloodstream at his firm rebuke. There was something hellishly exciting about an assertive man, and they didn’t come much more assertive than Mack.

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to act all submissive, flutter my eyelashes, and call you ‘sir’?”

A growl rumbled through his chest. He flicked off the water, scooped her up, strode into the bedroom, and tossed her, soaking wet, on top of the covers. She yelped in surprise.

“I’m wet!”

He crawled over her and shook water from his hair, creating even more of a mess. “ ’Bout to get a lot wetter, Red.”

Placing his hands on her inner thighs, he eased her legs apart. She closed her eyes and braced herself for a sharp sting as he thrust inside.

Her eyes snapped open to a view of the top of Mack’s head, his black hair glistening, droplets of water spilling onto her stomach.

Ohhh, yes.

She’d only received oral sex once, and that had been with a guy from Yale who’d lapped at her like he was eating an ice cream cone, then got bored long before she’d climaxed, and told her it was her turn to return the favor. Jackass. Her lasting memory was of being thoroughly underwhelmed by the entire experience.

She wasn’t underwhelmed now.

Arching her back, she pushed her hips forward, greedily seeking more. Mack nipped at the inside of her thigh, and she yelped. His large hand clamped over her stomach, and he forced her down onto the mattress.

“Behave. I’ll set the pace, not you.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but instead of words, a garbled groan burst out of her when he buried his head between her legs once more. God, his tongue… how was he doing that? She’d come hard in the shower, yet already, heat built in her stomach, a groundswell, a surge of something… epic.

“Oh God.”

She spoke the words on an expelled breath, an orgasm stronger than the first exploding out of her. She lost control of her body, her muscles twitching, toes curling, back arching. She couldn’t stop it, the emotion drowning her, caught in a fast-flowing river after a deluge of rain. And all the while, Mack wrung her dry, only lifting his head when she collapsed onto the mattress, spent.

“Stay there.” He rolled off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Condom,” he threw over his shoulder.

Her eyes went to his ass, and she mourned the loss of the sight of it as he disappeared through the door. He returned and tossed a box onto the nightstand, a foil packet in his hand. Tearing through the packaging, he pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it down his shaft.

“You still with me, Red?”

“I’m still here,” she whispered.

“Good.”

He found her lips, his kiss urgent, hungry, demanding. Everything about him was hard, solid, huge. An immovable hulk looming above her. For a split second, a snap of fear shot through her. She took a breath, then another. It’s Mack. It’s okay. She wished it were dark, then was glad it was light when he stopped kissing her and set those storm-blue eyes on hers.

“I got you. Y’hear that? I got you.”

Unable to form a single word, she barely managed a nod.

“Put your arms around me. Hang on to me.”

She wound them around his back, fingertips tracing impossibly taut muscles that rippled beneath her touch. She hissed at a twinge of pain, fleeting but real. Mack stilled.

“You’re okay. Feel me, yeah? Your body knows what to do, Honor. Relax.”

He dipped his head, his mouth ravaging her breast, tongue circling her nipple. And still he didn’t move. He gave her time to adjust, space to breathe.

“I’m good. I’m ready.”

“Thank fuck,” he groaned.

He’d gone easy on her, she realized. But he wasn’t going easy on her now. Every cell in her body came alive, dormant for so long yet born anew under his thrusting hips, his ripped body, his soft but insistent mouth.

Vibrating with pleasure, she rose to meet him, a partner, not a submissive. Her hands explored, her mouth, too. She took as much as she gave. Biting, licking, sucking.

Tasting.

Her heart beat in rhythm with his, climbing, thumping, racing.

He rocked back, taking her with him. His arms banded around her back, holding but not crushing, exploring her burning skin. The familiar surge in her belly swelled. Not again. She couldn’t do it again.

“You close?” he gritted out.

“Don’t wait for me,” she gasped.

“Not going anywhere without you, Red.”

He shifted his weight, made some space, and flicked her clit.

She fell, sparks of gold and silver and white flashing before her eyes, and took Mack over the edge with her.