Gentle Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 4) (15 page)

Chapter Eighteen

The next night, Mac stood in his cabin living room, staring unseeing out of the windows at the approaching early-autumn sunset. She hadn’t shown up the night before, she hadn’t shown up that day, and now Mac faced another sleepless night of waiting and wondering. Of trying to hold on to hope but slowly, steadily dying inside, one small piece at a time.

It was harder than he’d thought it would be, sitting up here and waiting for Mirrie. It had thrown him straight back to four years before, to that devastating weekend of frantic phone calls to Mirrie’s cell and to the police. He hadn’t slept a wink that whole time, he remembered now, and this weekend seemed to be going the same way.

When he heard the car engine on the road outside, his breath caught. Every sense in his body prickling and vibrating, he stood on the front porch, listening with every inch of his being. And when he saw her car come around the bend and pull slowly in to his driveway, Mac seriously thought he might pass out from relief.

She climbed out of the car and he blinked in surprise to see that her hair was a shimmering blonde – the exact color that it had been four years earlier. She'd taken out her cheek piercing and her eyebrow ring and she was wearing about half the makeup that she normally did. She looked so much like the Mirrie that he'd first known, all he wanted to do was kiss her. She was the most beautiful, strongest woman he’d ever seen and he’d give anything for her to forgive him.

Please, sweet God. Just one more time.

Mirrie looked up at Shane, her heart tight. He looked terrible, she saw. Tired and still bruised and beaten up, sure, but also diminished somehow. She’d never seen smart-ass, supremely-confident Shane MacIntyre as smaller than he was and more than anything, that told her what he’d been through recently.

He came down the stairs, still unable to believe that she was standing in front of him. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Can I take your bag?”

“I’m not sure that I’ll be staying.”

“Oh.” His stomach clenched in disappointment. “So… will you come in?”

“Yes. We need to talk.”

“I know.”

She followed him up the stairs, walked in as he held the door for her. She looked around, curious despite herself. So
this
was where she was meant to have spent that weekend all those years ago, where Shane had sat and waited for her while she drank and despaired.

“It’s nice,” she said. “Very homey.”

“Thanks.” He was standing there, looking lost. “Maybe you want something to drink? Tea or juice?”

“No, thanks.” She sat in the armchair closest to the window looking out on the mountains. “You invited me up here, Shane. So talk.”

“OK.” He sat too, feeling incredibly nervous. “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure.”

He licked his lips, hoped against hope that he didn’t fuck this up any worse than he already had.

“I’m sorry, Mirrie. God, I’m so sorry.”

“You said that,” she said, but not unkindly. “You being sorry isn’t the issue. I
know
you’re sorry.”

“So what do I do?” he asked, helpless and scared. “What do you need me to do, babe? Tell me… tell me and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

She looked at him and he waited. When she spoke, she was gentle with him.

“I need you to
get
it, Shane.
Get
why you should have told me.” She pushed her golden hair off her curved cheeks. “I need you to really, truly believe that I had a right to be a part of it all and far more importantly,
why
I should have been a part of it.”

Without a word, Mac got to his feet and came over to her. Startled, she moved back a bit and then froze as he fell to his knees in front of her.

“Shane…” she breathed.

“Babe.” He rested his hands on either side of her, holding her in place. “I get it.”

Mirrie searched his eyes, waited.

“I get it,” he said again. “I took something away from you, didn’t I?”

She held her breath.

“What if I’d been beaten in to coma? Or what if I was paralyzed and not able to talk? What if I’d
died
?” Mac’s face contorted in shame. “How could I have been so fucking presumptuous as to deny you what might have been the last chance that you had to tell me that you love me? How could I have taken away the chance to maybe say goodbye? To say things that you still have left unsaid, things that I may have no idea about? I took all that away from you and
I had no goddamn right to do that.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and he wiped them tenderly.

“The worst part of the whole thing?” he said. “Is that I know better than anyone how it feels to not get that last conversation. To have hundreds of things all locked up inside you with nowhere to go. How could I have forgotten that? How could I have been so fucking thoughtless and blind as to put you in that same position?” He stroked her hair and she leaned in to his touch, just a bit. “I did what I did to protect you, babe, but that was arrogant and wrong of me. You’re my partner, my other half. My soulmate. You’re stronger than I am in so many ways, and you’d have handled it.”

She gave a small sob and he pulled her against his chest.

“I know you’d have been scared and worried, babe. You’d have stayed up all night and been beside yourself. But you’d have done all that knowing that if I never came back to you, you had nothing left undone. Nothing unsaid between us. You’d have had that comfort, at least. And I think that’s all you’d have needed to pull you through.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“…Yes?”

“Yes. You
do
get it.”

“Yeah.” He pulled back to look in to those violet eyes. “I do.”

She touched him now, ran her fingertips along his bruised cheekbone. Her touch was delicate and tender and he closed his eyes, weak with gratitude.

“Does this hurt?” she asked.

“A bit,” he said, his eyes still closed. “It’s OK.”

“What about the rest of your injuries?”

“Fine.”

“Your back?”

He looked at her now. “Well… a bit sore. Joker and Doors really let me have it.”

She nodded. “Can I – can I see?”

His breath stopped dead in his chest. “You want me to take off my shirt?”

“Oh, yeah, babe.” Her smile was pure, perfect beauty. “Take off your shirt.”

"Only if you do."

"Hmmm." Mirrie blinked up at him innocently. "I suppose that can be arranged."

Without another word, Mac raised his large arms over his head. She grasped the bottom of his t-shirt and gently, carefully, mindful of his injuries, lifted it up and off. She sucked in a breath when she saw the nasty bruises on his chest, but it was the ones on his back that shocked her.

"Oh, Shane." Her fingers trembling, she touched the purple and black flesh. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, babe. It was worth it."

She was silent as she ran her hands over and over his back. All she could think about was how much pain he must have been in, how he'd put himself through all of this for her. For them.

"Mirrie?" He looked at her over his broad shoulder. "You know I'm OK, right?"

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak yet.

He turned all the way around now, cupped her face in his strong hands. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered. "I'm sorry I walked away from you that night. I'm sorry for the things I said."

"Hey." His kiss was tender but heated and she felt her body go limp. "No more apologies, alright?"

"But..."

"No, 'buts'." His hands were moving over her hips now, knowing and sure. "If you really want to make it up to me, take off your shirt."

She laughed. "Oh, is
that
what I have to do?"

"For starters."

Without another word, she yanked her shirt over her head and watched as his eyes went smoky with lust and want. He reached behind her, unsnapped her bra and when her full breasts fell loose and free, he slowly lowered his head. Mirrie held her breath, waiting for the second when his warm mouth would press on her soft flesh.

Mac traced the curves of her breasts, ran his tongue around her nipples. Her breath caught and he smiled. He loved her response to him: it was so honest, so emotional. It was the closest thing to perfect beauty that he'd ever seen; it was surely the most perfectly beautiful thing that he'd ever touched.

Gently, he sucked her nipple in to his mouth, rolling it between his lips. Mirrie arched and suddenly her hands were in his hair, tugging him closer.

"Shane." His name was a moan, and that was his favorite way to hear it. "More. Please, more."

He moved to the other breast now, slow and soft, inhaling her sweetness. Her hands were tighter, her breathing faster, her body more tense. Giving in to his desire, he roughly pulled her to the floor in front of the huge window facing the mountains. With a small cry, she clung to him, her face turned in to his throat.

"I want you naked," he rasped. "
Now
, babe. Don't make me wait even one second longer."

With clumsy fingers, she undid her jeans, shoved them and her panties down her legs and off her feet. Beside her, Shane was getting undressed equally quickly, with just as much urgency. Within seconds, they were naked and reaching for each other, kissing and carressing, their bodies straining to be as close as possible.

Gasping, Mirrie pulled back. "I don't want to wait. I need you inside me now. Please... please."

In response, Shane growled in his throat, wild and deep. No sweet words, no articulate phrases. He just
growled
and at the sound, Mirrie felt her pussy open and slick up. She reached for his erect cock and stroked him with both hands.
God
, she needed to feel Shane deep in her body. She needed to come on him, all around him.

"Shane... I'm ready. Just make love to me. Just – just be inside me."

He reached for his jeans, grabbed the condom from his wallet. He rolled it on, then flipped Mirrie over and on to her stomach. Her arms were extended above her, her hands in fists on the carpeted floor. He covered her with his entire body, nudging her legs open with his knees. She lifted her hips slightly to make it easier for him, and with one impatient movement of his hips, he sank his full length in to her.

Mirrie cried out and Shane covered her hands with his, lowered his mouth to her ear.

"I got you, babe," he murmured. "I'm right here."

"Oh, God," she said, her voice breaking. "Oh, Shane..."

His thrusts were gentle, slow, deep. She moved under him, loving how that broad chest pushed her down, held her in place. She was bracketed by his muscular arms, clenched between his strong thighs, and she felt impossibly tiny and feminine even as she felt safe and loved. Shane ran his tongue over her throat, tracing the forget-me-nots delicately and she shuddered.

A burst of color over the mountains caught Mac's eye and he lifted his head. What he saw made him breathless all over again, and for a whole new reason. He lowered his massive upper body on to Mirrie once more, holding his weight on his forearms as he made love to her.

"Do you know what I thought about the first time you looked at me?" Mac said softly. "When you opened your one eye and stared up at me from that ICU bed?"

Mirrie shook her head, her hair catching the last rays of the sun. "No. What?"

"I thought that your eyes were the exact color of an autumn sunset over the Rockies."

She moaned as he thrust faster now, pushing up against her melting inner walls.

"Look at me, babe. Let me see your eyes."

She looked over her shoulder at him and he stared in to those amazing violet depths. Yeah, they were the same color as the perfect sunset outside the window; they had the same blazing intensity and passion. He held her gaze, moving faster, faster again.

"All I saw when I looked at you, babe, was this moment.
This
fucking moment, I swear it. I wanted nothing more than to be right here, right now. Inside your sweet body, doing exactly this."

Mirrie's whole body and soul were unraveling at his words. She held his eyes even as her orgasm built and intensified, wanting to see all of him in this moment, knowing that Shane was open and vulnerable in a way that he may never be again.

When they came together, their bodies convulsing and shaking, Mirrie sobbing his name, Mac realized that he'd just touched a tiny piece of heaven. She was every single good, pure thing in his life and he knew now that if she wasn't in his arms, in his heart, then he'd lose more than love. He'd lose his faith that any good, pure thing
could
ever come in to his life. He'd never believe, not ever again.

Chapter Nineteen

Mirrie slept soundly in Mac's arms. Her breathing was slow and steady, her face was calm and so young-looking in slumber. He stared down at her, stroked her blonde hair with careful hands. He was sure that no bad dreams would come to her while he held her close. She was home now and he wasn't letting her go. She was his.

He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, but it eluded him. The sun was going to rise in just a few hours, he knew, but he wasn't tired. He felt happy here with her, sure, but it was more than simple happiness. It was something so bright and shining, he felt its warmth as surely as he saw its golden light.

Mac gave up trying to sleep, gave himself over to the sweet softness of Mirrie's body. He pulled her closer, gentle and slow, tucked her curves against his muscles. Without any conscious thought, he started to breathe in time with her. In and out, deep and rhythmic. He imagined that his heart was beating at the same time as hers, too, and that was when he began to drift off.

He woke up six hours later, alone in his bed. Startled, he sat up and looked around the room wildly.

Her overnight bag was gone. Her hairbrush wasn't on the dresser. Her clothes weren't folded neatly on the chair next to the bathroom door. Hell, even her sweet scent was fading. All that he had to show him that she'd slept next to him was a faint indentation on a pillow.

"Mirrie!" He launched himself out of bed. "
Mirrie
!"

Quick footsteps clattered across tile now and her tousled head appeared around the corner from the kitchen. She was fully dressed and holding her brush in one hand and her beautiful violet eyes were frightened.

"Shane," she said. "What's wrong?"

"Come here," he said in a shaky, urgent voice and extended his arms. "Come here, babe."

Right away, she came. He took her in his arms and held her as close and tight as possible. She stood unmoving, still confused. When he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, she searched his eyes, worried.

"Shane? You OK?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"You sure?"

He kissed her tenderly, his lips coaxing hers open to him. "I'm sure. I'm OK now that I'm holding you."

A flash of understanding went across her face now. "You thought that I'd left, didn't you?"

Mac stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. "Yeah."

"Oh, Shane." Mirrie gazed up at him and he saw the love in those astounding eyes. "Never again.
Never again
. I promise you."

"We're forever, right, babe?"

"Right." Mirrie rested her hands on his bare chest, felt his heartbeat speed up under her fingertips. "Forever – and maybe even a bit longer."

**

Dear Reader,

I very much hope that you enjoyed Mac and Mirrie’s story, and catching up with all the ‘Dangerous Curves’ characters.

‘Secret Curves’ (Dangerous Curves #5), Tessa and Curtis’ story, will be published in July 2015. If you want to know when it is available for purchase, please check on one of my social media platforms (Twitter, Facebook, and my blog). I will be announcing its release in all of these places, and posting some teaser excerpts.
Thank you for reading!

Marysol