Phoenix Rising I (27 page)

She turned toward Liam. “I am not going to ...” The subject of the conversation walked down the gravel path, scattering her thoughts like the stones under his feet. God, he looked … dark and sinfully inviting. She had only to look at him and her stomach did a free fall, just as if she was riding in a car and took a deep dip too fast. Immediately her heart rate sped up.

“You want him!” Liam’s voice was soft but incredulous.

“Sshh.” Mackey made a waving motion at him from her side, not acknowledging he was right. Not out loud, at any rate.

“You want him,” he repeated, and leaned toward her. “Then take him, lass. Think of it as sweet revenge, shagging the son of the man who exiled you from all that was familiar and dear.”

Even as she opened her mouth to exclaim over his ridiculous statement, some deep, dark part of her went, ‘hmmm.’ Good sense won out, however, and she murmured, “I’m not going to have revenge sex. Besides, I can’t just go around shtupping men I don’t know because they’re Fae.”

“You and your Yiddishisms.” Liam crossed his arms. “He’s not just any man, and you
do
know him.” He shrugged, keeping his voice low as the prince came closer. “Although he is a fine bit o’ goods, ain’t he? Maybe I’ll do some shtupping myself.”

“Would … you … shut … up!” Mackey clenched her jaw against the urge to punch Liam in the nose. He had the most bloody awful sense of humor sometimes. Most of the time. And when he talked about having sex with other men, she could never tell if he was serious or not. She knew he preferred women, but he readily admitted his bisexuality.

She glanced at him and wondered, not for the first time, why she didn’t feel attracted to him. He was every woman’s fantasy: tall, muscular but not bulky, a face that brought to mind fallen angels--beautiful with a hint of wicked delight hidden behind pale blue eyes and a sensual, made-for-kissing mouth.

Mackey knew Liam would bed her if she acted interested; he was an equal-opportunity shtupper. And she’d been tempted once upon a time, but hadn’t wanted to ruin their relationship by mucking it up with sex.

She looked back at Connor, now only a few meters away. Licking parched lips, she knew she’d certainly never felt this mouth-drying, panty-wetting attraction for Liam.

“I’d like to talk with you,” Connor said upon reaching them. He shot a dark look at Liam and added, “Alone.” His big hands were clenched at his sides and he clearly had something on his mind he wanted to get out in the open.

Liam’s brows dipped. “Listen here, boyo--”

“It’s all right, Liam.” Mackey put her hand on his bicep and gave it a slight squeeze. “I’d like to talk to him.”

In that moment, Mackey came to a decision. If the prince still wanted her, she’d make love to him. It had nothing to do with revenge, and everything to do with desire. It had been so long since she’d lain in a man’s arms, taken him in her body.

She knew it would be a temporary thing. The Fae didn’t usually stay in the human realm very long, and she could never go back to Cnoc Meadha, not with the king’s decree still in force.

And because the Fae didn’t carry diseases and she wasn’t due to begin ovulating for another two weeks, she’d take what she could get.

“Let’s go inside,” she murmured, and walked into the house. Turning left, she entered the private rooms of the residence. She remained silent until they reached the small sitting room adjacent to her bedroom. Once the door was closed behind her, she took off her sunglasses and placed them on a nearby decorative table. Keeping her back to him, she asked, “What was it you wanted to discuss?”

She felt the heat from his big frame a second before his hands came down gently on her shoulders. He pulled her unresisting body closer until the hard ridge of his erection nestled against the small of her back. Moving one hand slowly down her arm, he slid it around and flattened it over her abdomen, the tips of his splayed fingers just above her mound. Her heartbeat drummed against her ribs, her breath hitched in her throat.

“What was all that talk about shtupping?”

When she made to turn, he tightened his hold, and his lips pressed against the tendon at the side on her neck. At the warm, moist touch of his mouth, she stiffened for a moment, then a soft moan left her and she tilted her head to the side to give him better access.

She was so warm in his arms, her slender body curving against his. Connor touched his tongue to her throat, tasted the sweet heat of her skin, dragging his open mouth down the tender cord of her neck. Blood pulsed under his mouth, tempting his beast to bite down. But he resisted, settling instead for scattering open-mouthed kisses against her soft skin.

Pressing against her backside, he rubbed his erection in the cleft of her ass and swept his hands up to cup her full breasts. Hard nipples stabbed into his palms and her gasps of arousal were the sweetest music to his ears.

This time when she twisted in his arms, he let her turn. Hands came up and gripped his shoulders. Her dark eyes were huge in a face lightly flushed with pink. He heard her drawing in choppy breaths and knew she was as aroused as he. Leaning down, he touched his mouth to hers. She made a small moan of acceptance, her hands sliding up to curl around the back of his neck, slender fingers tangling in his hair.

He licked over the seam of her lips, and then settled his mouth firmly against hers. Her warm breath flowed into his mouth with her slow sigh. Her tongue touched his and he was lost.

By the gods of antiquity, she tasted good. Impatience gripped him. He wanted her naked, open, stretched out beneath him so he could taste her everywhere. The image of her slick folds yielding to his mouth, his tongue, spiked his arousal. His cock throbbed, his balls pulled tight.

He would feast on her, and it still might not be enough.

He loved being in control, giving pleasure to a woman, but never before had it been this important. Now, he needed more. He needed to make MacKenzie want him and no other, tie her to him so that she craved him. Only him.

Connor lifted his mouth and rested his forehead against hers. “I want you, lass, like I’ve wanted no other.”

To his surprise, she pushed out of his arms and turned away from him. She walked a few steps away and faced him, her mouth opening, and then closing. She sighed and ran one hand through her hair. “I … have something to tell you.”

When she didn’t go on, he went to her and took her hands in his, giving them a light squeeze. “What is it?”

Her dark eyes searched his, a hint of fear in their depths surprising him. “To answer your question, from before … I’m not Fae, not exactly. I’m
from
Fae.”

“There’s not much difference, MacKenzie.” At her quick frown, he bit the inside of his lip. She was adorable when she was irritated, although he knew now was not the time to comment on that wee fact.

“There is,” she insisted, jerking her hands away from his. She walked to the center of the room and stood next to a green-on-gray sofa. “I ...” She huffed another sigh. “Dammit. I don’t know how to say this.”

Connor stared at her, wondering what she was having so much difficulty relating. “Just say it, sweetling.”

She met his gaze, a frown lining her brow. Throwing up her hands, she said, “Fine. I ... used-to-be-a-dog.”

It was said in such a rush that he almost missed it. When he realized what she’d said ...”what!” Just how many of his da’s dogs had his mother turned into women?

“You heard me.” She paced the length of the sofa, turning at the fireplace to walk back the way she’d come. “The queen caught your father in some sort of … indiscretion and, to pay him back, she turned his favorite dog into a human. Me.”

The exact situation his mother had described to him. Which meant that MacKenzie and Bridget O’Neill, the woman he’d been sent to find, were one and the same. But, just to be sure, he asked, “did you ever go by the name of Bridget?”

MacKenzie stopped pacing, her sultry mouth forming an ‘O’ of surprise. “Yes,” she said, her voice soft, wrapping around him like warm, silken fingers. “Bridget O’Neill.”

He walked up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, then slid them up to cup her face. Staring into her eyes, he finally saw the nearly transparent rim of contact lenses. And, looking more closely, he saw the lightness of her hair at the roots. “You wear colored contacts and dye your hair.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He moved his hands and threaded his fingers through her hair, feeling the heat from her scalp against his palms.

Her eyelids fluttered and she tilted her head to one side. Her voice took on a deep-throated quality that zinged along his nerves. “I’ve been passing the estate down to myself, as mother to daughter. I had to change my appearance.”

“You know, if my mother had told me your real name, I would’ve realized right away--”

She jerked away from him. “What do you mean?” Distrust narrowed her eyes and made him stiffen in irritation.

“The queen,” he stressed, letting her know it certainly hadn’t been his idea, “asked me to make sure you were all right. Is there a problem with that?”

“Is there a problem?
Is there a problem?
” Her voice rose in pitch and color flooded her face. She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Your mother did this to me two hundred years ago. She’s just
now
sending someone to check up on me? And
you
--” another hard poke to his chest-- “you decide checking up on me means you should roll me over for a quick fuck?”

“First of all,” he said, rubbing at his chest, “that hurts. Second, I can’t say if this is the first time my mother’s checked up on you. She’s had you in the Well of Sight, I know. Third, you seemed plenty willing for a roll, so don’t give me this self-righteous indignity act.”

Her eyes widened, and then narrowed, her mouth working as if she had so many set-downs she wasn’t sure where to begin. A look passed over her face, one he didn’t trust, and she said, “you’re right.”

Turning, she walked toward a door on the west side of the room, pausing to look over her shoulder. Emotions crossed her expressive face so quickly he couldn’t decipher most of them, but he did sense sadness and loneliness. And, of course, her continued arousal. When she spoke, her voice was husky. “I want you. You want me. What else do we need to know?”

She went through the open doorway and Connor was unable to do anything else but follow her. He stopped under the doorframe and looked around the room, his eyes finally settling on the large, thick-mattressed bed in the center.

MacKenzie stood at the side of the bed, her back to him. His gaze was drawn to her heart-shaped ass, tracking down her long, long legs to see she’d taken off her sandals. She took a deep breath, then with a shimmy pulled her top over her head, dropping it on the floor. His gaze trailed up the elegant line of her spine.

And then she turned around.

Her breasts rode full and firm, the nipples a soft, dusky pink. Under his fascinated stare, the tips hardened, enticing him to put his hands, his lips on her soft skin.

His already erect cock twitched, pressing against the unforgiving material of his fly. “What are you doing, lass?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Connor cursed himself. Any fool could see what she was doing. The question was why?

Her slender fingers went to the button at the waistband of her jeans, and the
pop
of it unfastening sounded loud in the stillness of the room. The slide of the zipper was equally loud. As she bent, pushing the jeans down her legs, she said, “Liam told me I should have sex with you for revenge at being exiled.”

When she straightened, her face was devoid of emotion, her eyes empty of feeling. She shrugged one slim shoulder. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. So, to answer your question, why not?”

Connor stared, caught by her slender body standing there clad only in a miniscule pair of silky red panties. Even from here he could smell the sweet scent of her arousal.

His hands went to his waist and he slowly pulled his shirt free from his jeans. He wanted her, she was right in that. He didn’t care that she wanted him out of a sense of vengeance. He’d soon turn her around.

For now, if she wanted revenge sex ... she’d come to the right place.

Chapter Four

One moment Connor was across the room fully clothed, the next he’d used his magic to divest himself of his clothing and had her pinned to the mattress. Now that she had six-and-a-half-feet and two-hundred or so pounds of Fae warrior prince on top of her, Mackey didn’t quite know what to do with him. No, that wasn’t true. She knew
exactly
what to do with him. But she reckoned, even as a woman with a strong and active libido, she might be in a wee spot of trouble here.

What had she been thinking, to tell him what Liam had suggested in a tone that implied she was in agreement? All these years of loneliness had finally driven her right ’round the bend. “Um, Connor--”

One square-tipped finger came down over her lips and he shook his head. Eyes glittering, he said, “Uh-uh, sweetling.” He shifted against her and she gasped to feel his thick erection pressing against her cleft. “I don’t mind if you want to use me. In fact, I insist you do.”

His gaze drifted to her breasts and, with a low groan rumbling from his chest, he bent to one of her tight nipples. His tongue twirled around the tip of her breast before he pulled it deeply into his hot, hungry mouth, sucking hard.

Mackey’s entire body jerked in reaction and she moaned at the answering spark that lit her core on fire. She grabbed his head, her fingers latching onto his thick, dark hair. When he switched to her other breast, she undulated her hips, trying to ease the spiraling tension deep inside.

His hot mouth moved to her other breast. Shifting his weight to one side, he swept his hand down her torso. Fingers lightly traced the elastic waistband of her panties. When he palmed her, she moaned and thrust against his hand.

“Tell me you want this, lass. That you want
me
.” His voice was deep and raspy, a near growl of need.