The Gingerbread Bakery (Dream Harbor, #5)(57)

‘Do that again,’ she bit out, unable to stop. She couldn’t. Not now.

He did what she demanded, sending pleasure coursing through her body. His voice rumbled against her. Her heel dug into his back. Her toes curled. She was going to come like this, with Mac’s mouth on her clit and his hands on her hips and her back against his wall. She was going to come with her heart a confused mess and Mac looking up at her like he wanted more. Like he was here, and he wanted everything.

‘Again.’ Annie rocked against him. And the pressure and tension and heat built inside of her. Another groan, another rock of her hips against Mac’s perfect tongue and Annie was unraveling, the orgasm rolling over her in waves so intense she couldn’t stand. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t think. Mac held her up, pinning her to the wall as he lapped every bit of pleasure from her body.

She was boneless, sliding down the wall as Mac was standing, scooping her up on his way.

‘God, Annie,’ he was saying, his voice next to her ear, but Annie could barely take it in. ‘That was so amazing … so fucking beautiful,’ he murmured against her skin as he lifted her up.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked even as she snuggled her face against his neck as he held her. ‘I’m not staying here for the night,’ she said as Mac carried her out of the kitchen.

‘Okay, darling,’ he said.

‘I’m serious. I’m not staying.’ Annie’s voice was drifting closer to a whisper, exhaustion overtaking her. She'd been working so hard on this wedding and on her business and on resisting Mac. She didn't think she could do it all anymore. And it was so nice in his arms. Maybe she could give in just for tonight.

Even as she claimed she wasn’t staying, Mac was carrying her upstairs. She’d never been upstairs, and her curiosity woke her up a bit. He carried her into the first room on the right.

‘Is this your parents’ old room?’ she asked as he lowered her onto the bed.

‘No, I turned two of the smaller bedrooms into one bigger one for me. It seemed too weird to take my parents’ room.’

Annie nodded. That would be weird. The room was a good size, but Mac’s enormous bed took up most of it.

‘This bed is huge,’ she said, running a hand over the plaid bedspread.

Mac shrugged. ‘I like to spread out.’ He turned and started rummaging through his closet.

The rest of the room was tidy but lived in, a leather chair in the corner was draped in a small pile of shirts and the dresser had a coffee mug from this morning still sitting on it. Little details of Mac’s life that Annie never thought she’d see. The walls were a moody, navy blue, but one was covered in colorful framed postcards and travel posters, reminders of all the years he was gone. Annie refused to think about the packet of postcards she still had under her bed, the ones she should have gotten rid of a long time ago.

Mac emerged from his closet and tossed Annie a pair of sweatpants and an old lacrosse T-shirt. ‘You can wear these.’

‘I’m not staying,’ Annie repeated, tugging on the pants. She couldn’t cram herself back into her jeans at this hour.

‘Okay,’ Mac said, still looking at her like he wanted to keep her. It was unnerving.

‘I’m glad you moved out of the basement.’

‘Yeah?’ he said.

‘Yeah, I mean it was cool when we were teenagers, but a grown man living in the basement would be kind of creepy. Wouldn’t be a great place to bring women.’

‘I’m glad you’re concerned about where I might bring women,’ Mac said with a smirk, leaning against the door frame of the closet.

‘Turn around,’ Annie said, holding up the shirt. She resisted the urge to bury her face in it and inhale.

‘Why?’

‘So I can change.’

Mac stared at her. ‘Annie I was just face to face with your—’

‘Do not finish that sentence.’

Mac let out a low laugh of disbelief.

‘Turn around,’ Annie insisted.

He shook his head but complied, turning to face the wall.

‘Just because we did that,’ Annie said, ‘doesn't mean anything else changes between us.’

‘Oh, really?’ Mac said, addressing the wall.

‘Yeah, really. We were only blowing off some steam, relieving tension. It was basically like doing yoga or going for a run.’

Mac scoffed. ‘Wow, Annabelle, you sure know how to make a guy feel good.’

Annie pulled the shirt over her head, relieved to be out of her sweater and bra. It had been an incredibly long day and Mac’s shirt was soft and worn and smelled just like him.

‘I’m not here to make you feel good.’ She said it to remind herself as much as him.

Mac snorted. ‘Well, joke’s on you because that made me feel pretty darn good.’

Annie felt the heat rise to her cheeks and was glad Mac was still facing the wall. She was sure her face would give away exactly what she was feeling. And what she was feeling was highly ill-advised.

‘And it sure sounded like it made you feel good, too,’ he said, running a hand through his hair. Annie took the opportunity to really look at him. She spent a lot of time avoiding looking directly at Mac. It was always far too dangerous.

But now here she was in his bed, wearing his clothes, and looking at him seemed like the least of her worries. She took in the breadth of his shoulders and the flex of his forearms as he stood there. Waiting for her. She took pleasure in the fact that his hair was a mess because of her fingers, and she wondered if he was still as hard as he was while he was going down on her.