Renegade (19 page)

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Sweetheart,” he panted, “don’t move.”

She moved.

“Mac!” Oh God, she moved. Her hips ground against his, and he didn’t know what to think.

“What?” He knew his voice was harsh, but his control was dangling by a thread.

“Mac, we can’t do this like this.”

“I know! Don’t you think I know that? I’ve been trying…”

“No, Mac. We can’t…” She was panting just as hard as he was. “You have to take your pants off.”

His eyes snapped opened once again, to see her head thrown back and a look of sheer pleasure on her face. He almost came then. “Becks…?”

And then she pierced him with those gorgeous eyes. “My choice, Mac. I want you.” She twisted against him, and the smell of her nearly undid him. “And I
know
you want me. Now.”

He didn’t bother trying to reason with her anymore. It would’ve been stupid; he wanted this as much as she did, and he was done fighting it.

And so his mouth claimed hers again, and he lifted her—her legs squeezing around him—and carried her to the edge of the four-poster bed. Then, turning, he sunk down to the mattress and fell backwards, pulling her down on top of him. Only then did their tongues halt their desperate dance, as she trailed kisses down his neck, and her hand stole down between their bodies and he surrendered with a groan.

She might have demanded that he remove his pants, but the farthest they got was her unbuckling them and pulling them down. And then she was touching him, her hand circling his cock and nearly undoing him then and there. He lifted his head and grabbed her wrist again. “Honey, I’m not gunna last…”

“I don’t want you to last, Mac.” Briefly, he wondered if she’d done this before, because she sure seemed to know what she was doing. Not that it mattered… he was going to make love to her like she’d never been able to imagine. If she was experienced, he was going to wipe the memory from her mind, and replace it completely with him
.

“Come here.” He pulled her up his body again, until she was kneeling over him, the tip of his cock delicately teasing her wetness. Propped up on one elbow, he held the back of her head and kissed her senseless.

“Mac!” She squirmed, and he could feel the heat of her against his stomach. “Mac, now!” I need…”

He knew what she needed, and was humbled by it. He’d done nothing more than kiss her, and she was this ready for him. Easing himself back on the pillows, he ran his hands down her arms again. “Easy, sweetheart,” he breathed. “I know.” He helped her up and back, and she reached between them, and then she eased herself down around him.

Mac squeezed his eyes shut and groaned low in his throat at the delicious agony. She was tight enough that he didn’t even need the proof of her virginity to know that this was her first time. Had he thought it torturous before? Surely this was worse, forcing himself to lie absolutely still beneath her.

She’d hissed when they’d reached her virgin’s membrane, but she sank further onto him with a shudder. Her fingers tightened on his biceps, and he held onto her thighs. He’d purposefully chosen this position, so that she could be in charge of the pace, and now was glad that he’d given her that power. He knew she must be in pain, but then she settled against him, and sighed quietly, and he felt her wrap around his very being. He wasn’t just inside her, he was a part of her.

And he never wanted to stop.

And then it was his turn to hiss when she rocked on top of him. His eyes flew open, and, God
damn,
but she was beautiful. All wild and primal. He remembered her joy at the rain, and knew that this was a woman who could match him for adventures.

His palms crept up her thighs to her hips, and then, as she slowly lifted up and sunk back down, he helped her find her rhythm. It was glorious. It was torturous. It was more than he could’ve imagined.

As she learned how to press and rock and stroke and moan, he drew his fingers across her skin and up to her breasts, allowing his palms to cup the perfectly pert little mounds. The woman was golden all over, the color of sand in the noon sun. How had she managed
that
?

When her tempo increased, Mac knew she was close, and reached one hand down between their bodies to stroke the very center of her. She gasped, and whimpered, and leaned down towards him. Placing her hands on the bed on either side of his head, she hovered above him, and the move almost did him in. He’d been remarkably controlled thus far, but he lost what restraint he’d managed up until then.

Pulling her down towards him, he latched onto one nipple, swirling his tongue around the pink nub. She arched and whispered his name, and he forgot about letting her be in charge. Instead, he showed her how to ride him, how to move against him, how he could move under her, and soon they were both panting with desire.

When the muscles in her legs tightened beside him, he knew it was time. He drew her head down again so that he could taste her lips once more, her hair draping around them like a private curtain. He carefully stroked her wetness where they were joined, and sent her over the edge.

She froze, stiffening around him, and whimpered low in her throat, her eyes squeezed shut. He smiled against her lips, enjoying her reaction… until she constricted around his cock. It was… well, he didn’t want anything to ruin her first time, so he didn’t move, and she didn’t move, but the simple sensation of her wetness squeezing him was enough. He grabbed her hips to make sure she wouldn’t leave him, and then did his utter best to come quietly.

He wanted to yell her name, to flip her over and pound into her, again and again… but this was the sweetest, most wonderful torture he could’ve imagined. She clasped around him, still as a statue, and he felt his own seed leaking out between them.

It was… incredible. Like nothing he’d ever experienced, and he wanted more of it. He wanted her to let him be in charge. He wanted to show her how they could make love—because oh yes, this was definitely making love—in all positions, in all ways. He wanted to do this again and again and again.

He wanted to see her naked, writhing, on a beach.

And that’s when he realized how in trouble he was. He was thinking about her long-term, and liking it. He wanted her as part of his future, and, hell,… he’d just taken her virginity.

He was going to have to marry her, wasn’t he?

She sighed against him then, and relaxed, and he flicked his tongue against that wonderful spot where her neck met her shoulder. He felt her smile against his skin, and he smiled in response. With another one of those sexy little whimpers, she began to draw herself up and off of him, and he helped her roll to one side and then re-buttoned his pants. When she shivered, he pulled the quilt down and covered her, gathering her in his arms once more.

He wanted to say something comforting, something romantic, but he couldn’t think of anything. And she just yawned, so maybe she didn’t need to hear it? Instead, he pressed a kiss to her temple and smiled when she snuggled against him sleepily. Holding her felt good. Felt
right
. He might have been lying on top of the quilt, still fully-dressed for God’s sakes… but he was where he belonged. And so was she.

“Thank you, Mac.”

She was thanking
him
? He kissed her again, and she wiggled like a sleepy kitten. “Thank you, Becks. That was…”

“…remarkable,” she breathed.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes were closed, and she yawned again, and then apologized. He smiled, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you think we could do this again?”

Good God, he hoped so. Instead, he asked mildly, as if the answer wasn’t that vital, “Do you want to?”

He felt her smile slightly. “Goodness gracious, yes.” She was a marvel. He’d never had a virgin before, but assumed she’d be embarrassed and awkward. Instead, she was acting like she was right where she wanted to be. Where she should be. He held her a little closer.

“Stay with me, Mac?” She was falling asleep as he watched. “Don’t leave me.” Then she sighed, and her “Please?” was just barely breathed.

He waited until her breathing slowed, and kissed her once more on her temple. Then, knowing that she couldn’t hear him, he whispered his pledge.

“Never.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The sun streaming through her windows woke her up the next morning. Becks stretched, and then grimaced slightly at the unfamiliar soreness between her thighs. Well, it hadn’t been unexpected. Neither was Mac’s absence from beside her, in all honesty. She would’ve loved to have him sleep next to her, holding her through the night, but the realist in her knew it wouldn’t have happened.

Sleeping together was for married couples. They weren’t married, and he didn’t have any interest in marriage. In fact, it seemed like he was far more level-headed than she’d been; not only had he had enough sense to leave her after she’d fallen asleep, he’d tried his hardest to resist her.

And didn’t
that
just make her cheeks burn in embarrassment? She pulled a pillow up over her face, as if she could block out thoughts of last night. She’d practically attacked him! Hoping he would come to her room, she had carefully chosen her best robe—she only had the two—and prepared that little surprise for him. And goodness, had he been surprised. The memory of his expression—stunned and slightly worshipful—made her smile, and she decided to stop being embarrassed. Certainly, she’d seduced him. Certainly, he’d tried to fight the attraction. But certainly
it had been worth it.

Lord in Heaven
had it been worth it! She’d known enough about what to expect—thank goodness for a sister who loved to read—that she hadn’t been surprised by the pain. And she’d spent enough time exploring herself to know how to bring herself to pleasure. But nothing she’d ever experienced on her own had let her believe that last night’s joy had been possible.

In fact, just thinking about the way he stroked her, and the feel of his teeth against her nipples, made her comfortably warm between her thighs. She’d told him that she’d hoped they could do it again, and she hadn’t lied. He’d be leaving Beckett soon—just as soon as Eugenia decided their ruse had gone on long enough—and she’d have to end their “association” then. And since his partnership with Eugenia would be ending, if Becks had anything to say in it, he wouldn’t be back to put her people at risk again. No, this adventure in desire had to happen now, if she wanted it.

Maybe she could figure out how to seduce him again. Today.

So she was smiling when her door opened and Pearl slipped in. The sisters had never bothered to knock, knowing that they were each welcome in the other’s room whenever they needed. But for once, Becks was irritated by the lack of privacy. She wouldn’t have minded a few more minutes alone to investigate the way the memories of Mac made her feel…

Pearl stopped in the center of the room and looked around. Becks peeked out from the pillow, wondering if there was anything about the room to give away her secret. Wondering if she wanted to bother keeping it a secret at all.

“You sick, Becks?” Pearl crossed the room to stand by the bed, her hands fisted on her hips. “Don’t tell me you caught whatever Seelay had?”

“I don’t think so. Why?” She was still tucked under the quilt; she must have slept like the dead to have not tangled herself up in it. Why, sleeping nude was a lot more freeing than she would’ve thought. She’d have to try it again, soon.

Pearl sighed in exasperation. “Because it’s well past dawn, and you missed breakfast. Lola said she tried to save you a bowl, but Albus wanted another helping, so you’ll have to…” She trailed off, her brow tightening into a beautiful display of confusion. Then she sniffed. “What’s that smell? It smells like…”

Curious, Becks sat up to inhale. The only thing she smelled was the faint hint of cinnamon and man-sweat on her skin, and it made her pulse quicken. Unfortunately, Pearl chose that moment to turn back towards the bed, catching her in the middle of what was sure a stupid-looking grin.

“Intercourse!” Her sister gasped and pointed right at Becks who had to fight the urge to look behind her at the pillows, in case
intercourse
happened to be hiding behind one of them.

Instead, she brushed her hair back over her shoulder and tried to sound as nonchalant as possible when she asked, “And how in the world would
you
know what intercourse smells like, Pearl?”

“I don’t. I just… You’re naked, aren’t you?”

Becks grinned impishly. “Yep.”

“Oh Lord.” Pearl sank to the bed. “You let that man come in here, didn’t you?”
Let him
? Hell, she’d practically dragged him. “Did he… touch you?”

“Yep.” And then Becks laughed outright at her sister’s expression. “What’s the problem? I liked it.”

“You
liked
it? What does that have to do with anything? You’ll… you’ll be
ruined
if anyone ever found out!”

Becks scoffed and scooted out of bed, padding nude across the room to scoop up her robe from where it’d been pushed aside by the door. Knotting the belt around herself, she turned back to Pearl. “
You
found out. Are you going to ruin me?” The look of dismissal on the other woman’s face was all the proof she needed. “I didn’t think so. And I don’t think I care if Mother finds out. Grandmama’s not here to scold me, so what does it matter?”

“But…” Pearl waved one hand elegantly, delicately trying to capture the room, the faint smell of Mac, and her dishevelment. “
Becks
.”

“I know!” And then she laughed again for the sheer joy of it. It was a gorgeous May morning; the sun was shining, the finches were chirping, there was wisteria and honeysuckle outside, and she was going to see Mac again. She crossed the room to haul Pearl up by one hand. “And you know what?”

“What?” The two sisters leaned closer, conspiratorially.

“It was incredible. I’m going to do it again.”

She could see Pearl’s indecision; her sister knew she should chastise the lack of propriety, but also was intensely interested in the experience. Finally she sighed. “Really? It was… nice?”

“It was more than nice, and I swear that I’ll tell you all about it... later. If you’ll tell me where Mac is. ”

Pearl sighed again and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But you
swear
?”

“Yes.”

“He had breakfast with Zeb and Moses and the others. They like him, apparently.” It was good to know that Moses approved of him, not that it mattered. It’s not like he’d be staying or anything. “Robert wasn’t with him.” Becks almost didn’t notice the slight hesitation in her sister’s voice when she brought up the black man. Becks promised herself that she’d ask Pearl about it—about him—when she wasn’t so caught up in thoughts of Mac.

“So where is he now?”

Pearl shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Eugenia knows?”

Which is how Becks found him; looking like a perfect gentleman in the parlor, discussing old acquaintances with Eugenia. When Becks walked in, he stood up, and thank God his back was to Eugenia, or her mother surely would’ve questioned the look he gave her. It was all heat and sincerity and cinnamon. Becks had to swallow thickly to keep herself from attacking him again.

She might prefer him in bare feet and a wet shirt, but he was downright dashing dressed as a Southern gentleman, too. But he just didn’t look… right. Like he was pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

But he gave her a slight bow, his lightening smile here and gone, and she thought that he did a pretty good job at pretending to be a gentleman, after all. Then he crossed to her and took her hand, and she felt the heat creep up her arm, and she forgot about her mother altogether.

“How are you this morning, Becks?”

“Fine,” she blurted, and then softened her outburst with a smile. “I’m wonderful, thank you.”

This time his smile told her that he’d understood what she was trying to say. He cleared his throat slightly. “I’ve been hoping to catch you this morning. Do you have plans?”

Becks swallowed. Yes, she had plans. Plans to seduce him again and make him teach her all sorts of things about her body. Plans that she couldn’t well introduce with her mother in the room. So she tried to be coy. “Nothing that couldn’t be postponed.”

“Would you like to see my ship?” She couldn’t contain her excitement at the offer, and he chuckled to see her expression. “I hope that’s a ‘yes’?”

“
Yes
! I’d love to! Oh, Mac, really? She’s not too far?”

“She’s moored downriver a bit.”

“That sounds like so much fun! I’ve never been on a real ship before!”

He gave another little bow, over her hand this time, and she wondered at the promise she saw in his copper eyes. “Then it’d be silly to waste the opportunity.”

He smiled, and she smiled and wondered if this would be her chance to put her plan into action.

It was only later, when they were on their way to the
Polaris,
that she realized her mother hadn’t said a thing during the exchange. She’d let her only daughter climb into a boat with a stranger and row downriver, without even asking when they’d return. Sure, Becks had done it plenty of times, but never with a
man
. Surely propriety dictated that Eugenia...? And then Becks remembered that her mother didn’t give two hoots for propriety and probably had her own agenda anyhow. Becks learned long ago to not try to second-guess Eugenia, and why would she want to now? Her mother’s inattention meant that she got to spend the entire day with a gorgeous renegade who could teach her all sorts of things about desire and passion. What could be better?

Becks had offered to help row when he’d returned from changing and met her at the dock, but Mac just chuckled and directed her to the stern again. Unlike yesterday, she didn’t lounge languidly, content to just watch him toil. She was too excited today to sit still. She was going to see his ship! She’d never been on a proper ship and had always been curious. Oh, certainly, she’d sailed her little skiff around the Sound and had paddled up any number of Edisto’s creeks and even taken the barge to the mainland… but she’d never been on an honest-to-goodness ship
.

Mac must have understood her excitement, because he just smiled, and answered all of her questions about his
Polaris
. He was wearing the faded grey shirt and dark trousers she’d seen him in that April night under the oak tree, and the memory of that first kiss made her cheeks warm. As he rowed, one leg cocked back underneath the thwart and the other stretch out nearly close enough to brush her skirt.

When he’d changed into what she’d come to think of as his ‘smuggling’ clothing, he’d taken off his shoes. He was as barefoot as she was, and that made her… well, inexplicably
happy
. His toes were as nut-brown as hers, and she doubted that he would mind the feel of pluff mud between them. His feet were strong, and free, and made her a little breathless, just like him. And then she smiled, realizing that she was getting poetical about his
feet
.

“What’re you thinking about?” He had that wry little grin on his lips; not the lightening-fast one, but the one she saw more often than not when he was looking at her.

And so she decided to be honest. “You.”

“Oh yeah? What about?”

“Your feet… and your hands.”

One dark brow rose at her confession, and that adorable dimple appeared over it. Lord, he was handsome, wasn’t he? “My feet?”

“Well…” Maybe her smile was a bit more impish than usual when she peaked up at him. “Your hands moreso.”

“Why?”

“I like the way they make me feel.” There, she’d said it. And judging from the way his rhythm hitched momentarily and the right oar slapped sideways into the water, her honesty surprised him.

Mac cleared his throat, not quite meeting her eyes. “And how do you feel this morning?”

She shifted forward until she could touch his knee. It brought his attention quickly back to her face, and she smiled. “Better than I could possibly imagine feeling.”

Both of his brows rose at that, but he didn’t have any other response to her boldness.

And then a great heron honked, off in the distance, and she looked away to see two unfamiliar masts rising about the salt marsh beyond the next bend. She forgot about her campaign to seduce him again and stood up to see more of the ship.