Winning Love (10 page)

He placed a gentle kiss on her swollen clit and then lifted his head.

Yeah, he could listen to Gayle’s bedroom noises all fucking night.

And that was exactly what he planned to do.

G
ayle kept her eyes locked on Mac’s wet lips. For a man who had been so hesitant, he sure as hell wasn’t hesitant in the bedroom. Shooting her arm out, she fisted his shirt and yanked him forward, fusing her mouth to his in an aggressive kiss that made it clear they were far from done.

Letting go of the shirt, she trailed her hands down his chest to the hem and tugged it up. He broke away long enough to pull the shirt over his head and toss it on the floor. A few seconds of fumbling later, his shoes, pants, and boxers were off, too. He lifted her off the counter and put her on her feet. While he tore through a grocery bag, she shimmied out of her dress, letting it pool around her feet. He came back with a box of condoms and she smiled, then took his hand and led him out of the kitchen.

She liked a man who came prepared.

He didn’t ask any questions, just let her take him. The delicious man had tasted every inch of her and she planned to return the favor in turn. When they reached the couch, she pulled him to stand in front of her and tapped his pecs with her fingers in a gentle shove. Not that it would’ve taken him down, but he fell back against the cushions in a comfortable position.

Chuckling at his easy willingness to play along, she lowered to her knees between his spread legs. “For a man who can be so predictable, you keep surprising me.”

A cocky smile turned up those amazing lips. “Got to keep a woman guessing.”

“That you do, handsome. That you do.”

She lowered her eyes to the thick, long cock jutting proudly from his body. As she ran the tip of a finger over the velvety skin, it jerked. “Would you like to feel my mouth on you?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah.”

God, he was going to be one hell of a lover.

Gently she cupped his balls, massaging them in her palm as she slowly slid the head of his cock inside her mouth. The groan followed by a roughly muttered, “
Fuck
,” gave her incentive to keep going. She took each inch of him in, then pulled back, over and over, increasing the speed with each bob. His breathing became choppy, and she jerked her head up.

No coming for the man. Not yet, at least. Her mouth wouldn’t be the only place his cock would penetrate first. She moved her way up his body and nipped at his hips, kissed over his drool-worthy abs, circled her tongue over his nipples, and sucked on his throat before finally getting to his lips. Delving her tongue between them, she straddled his pelvis, his cock sliding against the back of her ass.

“Condoms?” she asked against his mouth.

A foil package was shoved into her hand. She gave a hum of appreciation, then tore it open and worked her hand between their bodies, sliding the rubber over him.

“Fuck, just having you wrap your hand around me feels so fucking good.”

“You just wait.”

She lifted up, then slowly took him inside her. Closing her eyes, she moaned in pleasure as the man stretched and filled her.
Jesus
. She took a moment just to enjoy the feel of him, then she opened her eyes. And she started to ride. His fingertips bit into her hips as she moved her pelvis in a rhythmic motion.
So good
. It felt so damn good. She leaned her forehead against his, increasing the speed of her hips. It wasn’t enough. Not deep enough. Not fast enough. A frustrated moan stuttered past her lips.

Quick as a snap of his fingers, Mac flipped her on her back. His arms anchored beneath her knees, keeping her legs spread wide and pressed up close to her chest. He took control, pounding into her. How deep he got, how fast he thrust, how hard he took her, made uncontrollable sounds of pleasure escape her mouth. She bit her bottom lip, trying to mute them. Even hushed, they poured out of her. She couldn’t keep her responses contained because he dominated her body, yanked them from her. She fought against the urge to let every moan, groan, and “Oh, God,” rip loudly into the air.

She loved sex, enjoyed the hell out of it, but this overpowering carnal need was new—and a bit terrifying.

When he reached down and touched her, she came instantly, and the cry that pushed to erupt with it was smothered by her clamped teeth, the decibels chopped in half. Above her, Mac jerked, a guttural growl rumbling out of him, his eyes clenched tight. Breathing heavily, moments later, he lowered and braced himself on his elbows.

“Holy shit,” he whispered as he kissed her.

Holy shit was right. The man had just rocked her damn world. Sex with Mac had been a whole new experience, and she was giddily thankful she had a few more weeks with the man. Because
this
kind of sex, she could get used to.

A
computerized music beat broke into Mac’s sleep as Gayle stirred beside him. Lifting his head, he watched her fumble for her cell phone on the end table. He rubbed his hand down her side and settled back against the pillow, thinking about the amazing night they’d shared and how utterly sated he felt. An intense training session didn’t wear him out this well.

“Hello?” The huskiness of sleep roughened her voice, and he found it so sexy he nipped her bare shoulder. She squeaked and swatted at him, but then she sent him a grin. A round of morning sex, then a nap, sounded like a great idea. He rained kisses over her skin.

“Really?” Her body tensed, and he lifted his head, concerned. “Wichita Falls, Texas. Got it.”

Flinging aside his arm and the covers, she hopped out of bed, revealing her beautiful naked ass as she scanned the floor, then glanced toward the door with a frown.

She was looking for her dress. It was downstairs where their clothes had been discarded in the living room.

She darted to her dresser and started yanking out garments. “It’s just shy of seven. If we leave within the hour we can be down there a little after lunch. With the late spring, it’s been quiet this season. Maybe we’ll get some footage. I need to have something to give to Peter soon, or I’m worried he’s going to pull the funding.”

Season. Footage. Funding. What was she talking about?

He lifted up on his elbow and watched her. There was an excited animation to her movements. What the hell was going on?

Balancing the cell on her shoulder, she shimmied into underwear and black shorts. “Yeah, meet me here. I’ve got to get some things ready, then we’ll hit the road.”

She tossed the phone on the bed and yanked on a shirt almost simultaneously.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“Rick,” she said as she gathered her hair in a ponytail and secured it with a band.

Why was she rushing around like a mad woman? He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes. “Your co-worker?”

“Yep. There’s a storm system forming down in Texas. The first of the season that has the potential to bring tornadic activity.”

At the mention of the violent natural disaster, every muscle in his body petrified. His heart squeezed painfully. He sat up straight. “Gayle, why are you so amped over a storm system?”

He feared he already knew the answer but prayed he was wrong.

“Damn it. I need a bra.” Distracted, she went back to the dresser and tugged one out.

“Gayle. Why?”

As she worked a bra on under her shirt, she scrunched her nose at him. “Potential tornadoes, handsome. Why else would I be excited about possible tornadic activity? I can’t chase if the atmosphere isn’t right to spawn twisters.”

Chase?

A roaring filled his head. His mind, his body…his heart protested against the repellant information. She grabbed a pair of hiking boots, perched on the end of the bed, and laced them on.

“Are”—He had to swallow hard against the chokehold her words had locked in around his throat—”you saying you’re a
tornado chaser
?”

“Technically, we’re called storm chasers, but yeah, the goal is to catch a tornado.”

Oblivious to his blossoming horror, she hopped to her feet and gave him a peck on his dazed lips. “We’re heading to Texas, so I’ll probably be gone a few days. Let yourself out, okay? I’ll see you when we get back.”

Then she was gone.

Just like that.

As if she hadn’t just given him the worst mindfucking of his life.

Woodenly, he pushed aside the covers and stood on numb legs. How had this happened?
Why
would this happen—to him?
To him?
He stumbled his way downstairs, dazed, and jerked on his clothes. Hearing Gayle rummaging around in the bonus room, now knowing what the equipment was used for, his stomach heaved. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t be in the same room with her. Silently, he let himself out the back door.

As he made his way to Lance’s house, the stupor her admission had caused faded, and the ugly darkness he knew as life took hold.

Why was he so goddamn stunned? This was the way shit worked. Four years of depending on nothing, on nobody, and he’d gotten along just fine. Then that woman had come in and fucked it all up. And as soon as he opened himself up again, what happened? Life coldcocked him hard right in the face, then stood over his dazed body and said, “You stupid motherfucker.”

He couldn’t argue.

Only a stupid motherfucker would spend years keeping his distance from everyone, only to unknowingly fuck the one woman who actively sought out—who actually
chased after
—the destruction that had shattered his life.

What were the odds? How was that even
possible
?

Of all the women in the goddamn world, the one, the only one, he’d responded to sexually was a fucking
tornado chaser
.

Mac stepped into the house and froze. Lance was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and eating a bagel. Had he known all along? Of course he had.

Mac released the door, letting it slam shut.
Motherfucking asshole
.

His friend jumped as his head shot to the side. Dropping his bagel on a napkin, he shoved the chair back and stood. “Jesus, man? You’re pale as a sheet.”

“Did you know?” was all Mac could get past his clenched teeth.

“Know what?”

“About Gayle.”

“I need more details, bro. You’re not making much sense.” Lance took a cautious step forward. “What about Gayle?”

“She chases tornadoes.”

His friend jerked back as if struck, then immediately shook his head. “No. You’ve got to be mistaken.”

“Mistaken? She’s headed to Texas to chase a system right this minute.” Fury overtook Mac and he fisted his hands, baring his teeth. “And she was fucking
excited
about it. People will die, but she’s over the goddamn moon about the possibility of catching video footage. It’s fucking
disgusting
.”

“Shit,” Lance whispered, and swallowed. “Did you—”

“Yes. I fucked her last night,” Mac cut him off, not wanting to hear his friend, wanting—no,
needing
—someone to blame.

A pained grimace contorted Lance’s face and he hung his head. Lance knew. And he understood the magnitude of how severely this had fucked Mac up. Good.

“I let her
near
me. The only woman I’ve been with since I left this fucking place is a goddamn adrenaline junkie, and her fix of choice destroyed my fucking
life
.” Mac pointed accusingly at his friend. “You
told
me she would be good for me.”

Lance lifted his head. Compassion and worry shone from his eyes, causing Mac to flinch. He’d had enough of that goddamn sympathetic expression to last a fucking lifetime. It was why he didn’t let people in.

“I would never have encouraged it had I known, Mac. I swear to that. She moved in six months ago. Tornado season has just started. All she ever mentioned was being a meteorologist and that she had her PhD. That’s it.”

It didn’t matter. What was done, was done. “When is this fight of yours?”

Lance blinked. “A month.”

“That’s all you’ve got, and then I’m the hell out of here.” He stormed toward the door. Just before he left the kitchen he turned and leveled Lance a deathly glare. “Keep that crazy, reckless woman away from me, do you understand? I won’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth if you don’t.”

Chapter Six

T
hree days later, Gayle turned the steering wheel of the SUV into her driveway. She spotted Mac standing on Lance’s front porch and her stomach jumped. She devoured the sight of him in black training shorts that couldn’t hide the strength of his thighs. The sleeveless, neon green fitted shirt hugged his chest and displayed the Celtic tattoo on his bicep beautifully. She couldn’t wait to trace those inked black lines again. It was insane how much she’d missed the man. She waved at him¸ but all he did was give a fierce scowl and stand motionless as a statue as she drove into the barn behind her house.

“Was that the guy?”

She glanced over at Rick, who looked as exhausted as she felt. “Yeah.”

“Well, you sure had the curmudgeon description down. Dude looked all kinds of cranky.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip. He’d had time to think again. She’d tried not to worry about it while she was gone, but unease over him having second thoughts about their little
fun
arrangement kept invading her mind—and Rick had noticed. He’d pestered the crap out of her about why she was so distracted until she’d finally caved and told him about the handsome fighter who was visiting next door. Rick’s cryptic sigh, followed by, “What does it matter, you’ll only keep him around for a few weeks before you move on, anyway,” was accurate, but still hadn’t kept the man from dominating her thoughts…as he had her bed.

After they climbed out of the truck and stored the gear away, Rick helped her carry the electronics into the house. “Peter’s not going to be happy, is he?”

Gayle made a face. “Nope, but we can’t control a storm system. He’s just going to have to get over it.”

“You don’t think he would pull the funding, do you? I’m enjoying getting a regular paycheck for once.”

She chuckled softly. Like he needed it. She’d met Rick almost eight years ago at a frat party at the University of Alabama in Huntsville. Though he’d had no interest in atmospheric science, he had a BA in painting and art history. When she’d started chasing, he’d asked if he could join her because he wanted to try capturing Mother Nature on canvas. And, boy, could he ever. His paintings sold and sold well. He’d been driving for her ever since—without pay. But then, she hadn’t been getting paid, either, at first. When that had changed, she’d made sure Rick got a little bonus, too, for the loyalty he’d shown her.

“He better not pull our funds. Not if he wants to flaunt Dr. Gayle Matthews as chief meteorologist for WKKS News.”

That PhD had given her a hell of a bargaining chip when Peter had approached her with the job offer. She’d never held one iota of interest in being on TV. But video footage she’d captured last year of an EF-3 tornado that had hit a small town in Oklahoma had garnered national attention. Peter Gates, General Manager of WKKS News, had approached her days later and asked about her credentials. He’d offered her the job of chief meteorologist on the spot, which she’d promptly turned down. She was very happy with her cushy professor position, and had an understanding with the University of Kansas that she did not work during active tornado season so she could conduct her ongoing field research. But when Peter’s offers kept getting more and more interesting, she’d quickly realized what he was truly after—her title as PhD in atmospheric science and her new national recognition. And so the bargaining had begun.

The final agreement was that she would work for him as his chief meteorologist, he would provide her with a decked-out SUV with all the weather crap she needed to continue her research, and she would take tornado season off from the station so she was able to dedicate her time solely to chasing and her research. All the video she caught would be owned by WKKS, as long as it was clear that any footage necessary for her research could still be used by her. She couldn’t care less about the videos, really. The raw data was what she was after. The science.

So, now she had the best equipment money could buy instead of what she could acquire each year on her meager salary—and no freaking tornado season to use it on. The universe was no doubt having itself a real good laugh at Gayle’s frustration.

“We’ll just keep watching the maps and the numbers,” she told Rick as they put the laptops and other gear on her kitchen table. “We’re only a couple weeks in. Things are bound to pick up.”

Hopefully, somewhere out on the miles of flat desolate land. Those were her favorite chases—with only the beauty of Mother Nature spread out before her—and the draw of her research. Once populated areas were affected, though, her research took a backseat to lending a hand where needed. People always came before data. Thankfully, those instances were few and far between.

She inhaled and turned to look at Rick. “Go home. Get some rest. You know the drill.”

He saluted her. “Aye, aye, boss lady. You do the same.”

He let himself out the back door. She walked to the window and peered out at the house across the way. Lance and Mac were heading for the barn. Yeah, she needed to rest. A chase was always exhausting, even if it was a big fat bust like this one had been. Three days of traveling all across the Midwest pursuing promising data, and not even a measly funnel had peeked out from the dark clouds. She could hear Peter’s outraged blubbering now. The downside of doing her research under someone else’s thumb, especially a person who had no inkling about weather, was starting to surface. Real storm chasing wasn’t like in the movies. If Peter gave her too much grief, she’d tell him to take his high-tech gadgets and stuff them. She’d been doing just fine on her own. She could do so again, if need be.

She eyed the phone. Nah. He could wait.

First she had a fighter she needed to see.

She strode across the field, opened the barn door, and stepped inside. Silently, she moved off to the side as Mac and Lance were grappling on the mat. She couldn’t tell what they were doing. Lance was trying to bend Mac’s arm in a direction it definitely wasn’t supposed to bend. Mac finally slapped Lance’s shoulder and he released him. Both rose to their feet.

“Better,” Mac said. “We need to work on that a little more, but you’re getting the hang of it.” Mac’s eyes flicked to where she stood, then flicked back, and he stiffened. A fierce frown tightened his lips.

Lance looked over his shoulder and grimaced when he saw her. That wasn’t like Lance at all.

Unease made her swallow. What had happened?

Not one to cower, she smiled and strolled farther inside. “You guys getting your sweat on?”

Lance moved forward, running a hand through his hair, casually stepping between her and Mac. “Uh, yeah. Been going at it pretty hard the last couple of days.”

She glanced around Lance at Mac. “Hi, handsome.”

If anything, Mac’s scowl became even scowlier. Wow. She’d
thought
she’d seen him transform into the fighter a few times when he was trying to deal with her antics, but she was wrong. Way wrong. The man before her right now was intimidating as hell, and if he’d been the one she’d met on that first day, there would’ve been no way she’d have been so bold as to ask him out. A handsome but grumpy curmudgeon she could deal with…but a lethal, looked-like-he-could-snap-a-tree-trunk-in-two fighter, no way,
nuh-uh
.

Why was all this hostility suddenly directed at her?

Lance took her arm and steered her toward the door. She gaped at him. He was trying to make her leave. What the hell?

“I was going to come by your place in a little bit and see if you’d mind watching Skylar for a couple of hours. I have a voluntary pickup scheduled.”

“Sure. No problem,” she said, yanking her arm away and turning back toward Mac. “Why don’t you come over and hang out with us?” she asked him.

“I don’t think so.” His hands tightened into fists at his sides.

“Why not?” His attitude was starting to piss her off, but she managed to ask nicely.

“Mac.” There was a cautioning rumble in Lance’s voice that made Gayle shoot a glance at him.

That did it
. “What the hell is going on?
I
couldn’t have done anything. I haven’t even been here.”

It was like she’d taken the cap off a shaken bottle of soda. Mac advanced on her so fast she almost retreated, but she held firm, notching her chin up in defense.

“You’re all about living in the moment,” he mocked, his voice getting a little louder, a little more cutting, with each word. “Throwing caution to the wind, having no regard for safety. You take life for granted. You embrace danger.” He raised a finger and jabbed it at her. “You don’t give a good goddamn about the wellbeing of others.”

Every word hit her like the blast of a rifle, ripping away at her bit by bit.

The last time she’d felt this shell-shocked, she’d just learned she’d lost everyone she loved.

But unlike the time before, pain didn’t engulf her. Anger did. And as the stunningly cruel words sank in, that anger grew. “You don’t know a
damn
thing about me,” she said, slowly, calmly.

“Oh, I know plenty. You’re a fucking catastrophe waiting to happen. Reckless. Impulsive. Careless—”

“Bro,” Lance interrupted with a stronger warning note in his voice. “You need to step back.”

“Bat-shit crazy.” An unmistakable shadow of disdain darkened Mac’s eyes. “You get off on risk-taking, no matter who will get hurt, and it makes me sick.”

Lance raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Everyone needs to take a timeout.”

“Fuck. You.” She flipped him off with both hands, then spun around and slammed out the door.

Lance’s, “Fucking not cool, man,” followed her out into the field.

Fury vibrated through her entire body. She took life for granted?
Didn’t care for the wellbeing of others?
Screw his judgmental ass. If he wanted to jump to conclusions on how she chose to live her life, then so fucking be it. She didn’t owe
anyone
an explanation.

“Gayle. Wait!” Lance called after her.

She kept striding. Fuck that.

His hand finally latched on to her arm and whirled her around. “Listen, I’m sorry about Mac.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for that dickhead.”

Lance groaned. “I warned you. Mac has some serious baggage.”

“
Everyone
has baggage, Lance. What that man has is serious”—she tapped her finger to her temple—”
mental
issues that could really use a good dose of shock therapy.”

She started to spin again, but Lance stopped her.

“I’m trying to explain, Gayle, if you’ll stop for a goddamn second. He’s been to hell and back—”

She jerked away from him. “Aren’t you hearing me? I. Don’t. Care.” She stepped forward and pounded her chest with her finger. “
I’ve
been to hell and back.
I’ve
had to pick up the shattered pieces of my life and learn to live again. And I have
never
judged someone like that because of my
baggage
. He—”

Lance’s eyes went wide. She snapped her mouth shut. Tears threatened to form and she blinked them back furiously.
Damn it
. She never talked about the past. No reason to relive it when nothing would change it.

“Gayle, I had no—”

She lifted her hand in front of his face. “I am
not
doing this. I made peace with my past a long time ago. You just keep that prick away from me. I don’t give a flying fuck what he’s been through. I don’t care how horrific his story is. He’s just showed me his true colors and I want no part of him. Anytime you need me to watch Skylar, it will be at my place. I don’t want to be anywhere near that judgmental bastard.”

M
ac cringed as the barn door slammed against the outside wall and Lance came barreling back inside.

“What the
fuck
was that?” Lance got right up in his face and pushed him a step backward with his body. Mac didn’t object, letting his friend have his anger. “Gayle is a good person and she sure as fuck didn’t deserve that shit from you.”

“I don’t want to be around her, Lance.”

“Well, you sure as hell guaranteed that by being judge and jury over
her
life.”

Things had gone a lot further than Mac had intended. But the moment he’d looked up and saw Gayle standing there, his chest had tightened…and not in anger. The disgust and fury that had swamped over him for still feeling something when he knew what she did for a living, and that she was nothing more than an adrenaline junkie, came pouring out in words before he could stop it.

The abject terror he’d felt over the last few days when he thought about her within touching distance of a tornado had made him crazy. The fear she created inside
him
because
she
willingly put herself in danger was overwhelming.

Jesus. If he felt this powerfully in the short amount of time he’d known her…it just plain pissed him off. The whole fucking thing pissed him off big-time.

He
couldn’t
care for this woman. It would kill him.

He needed to keep his distance. Needed to make sure she kept hers.

He’d wanted her anger. Anger was safe.

“You want to know what I just learned?” Lance continued. “That woman you were just an absolute prick to has been through something, too. Something real bad.”

Mac jerked up and looked at his friend. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s see. Raging pissed off woman says she’s been to hell and back and she had to pick up the pieces of her life and learn to live again, but she has never judged anyone the way you just did.”

A painful knock to the gut stole Mac’s ability to breathe. She’d been through something so bad she’d had to learn to live again? No. Lance must have misheard. Gayle didn’t come across as haunted at all, much less broken and mended.

“Did she say what it was?”

“Yeah, no,” came Lance’s sarcastic reply. “But did you
hear
what I said, Mac? Did you hear the difference?”

What was Lance getting at?

His friend groaned and slapped both hands over his face. “You’re fucking pathetic, dude.” He lowered his hands and stared at Mac. “She learned to
live
again.”