She was on the back of his bike with her arms around his waist and pressed against his chest. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
So many times he’d thought about having her this close. Having her wrapped around him.
And now she was. For real.
She also had no idea what she did to him. How she couldn’t after all this time, he didn’t know. But before the moon was high, she would know. She would know exactly what she meant to him.
He told her one night and that was all.
He meant it. Unless she wanted more. Unless she understood what he was offering her.
She laid her head against his back and he thought his heart might burst. The woman had no clue.
He could ride them from one end of the country and back again and never tire of her body plastered to his. He’d stay just like this for the rest of his life if practicality wasn’t an issue.
With each wind in the road, each bend, each hill, she moved with him and the bike. She flowed into him and she never let go.
Spring was his favorite time of year. There was so much hope of what was to come. New life springing up and all the flowers in bloom.
Kids were still in school, too, and he wasn’t pulling over drunk assholes as much as he would be in the summer.
And Jackie reminded him of Spring. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but when he looked at her, it was like looking at everything new and possible.
He took a soft left turn onto a small, barely there trail. No one ever saw it and that was the way he’d designed it. It was there, but not for anyone else to find.
Jackie lifted her head. What did she think of being deep in the woods? She came from the city, though had been in their neck of the woods for a long while. She had to have adapted to being a small town woman by now.
He eased into a worn patch of pine needles and parked the bike. Behind him, Jackie sat up, her hands still touching him at his waist. He turned the engine off in time to hear her gasp.
“What is this place?”
“It’s mine. My family’s owned the property up here for years.”
“Is that …?”
He smiled, knowing what had caught her attention. He couldn’t have timed it better, either. The generator kicked on and soft lights flickered up into the tree.
“Is that a treehouse?”
“It is.”
“Where did it come from?”
Mac chuckled and helped her off the bike, then did the same. “I built it. C’mon up.”
“Is it safe?”
“I’d never put you in danger. Have a little faith in me.”
He had an idea that it wasn’t him she lacked faith in, but herself. She was a smart, savvy business woman who had the heart of a newborn kitten. She was skittish, uncertain of her footing outside her business. She had good friends, but he was different, and had never made it into the inner sanctum. She didn’t joke with him. She didn’t tease with him. She could hardly stand him. On the surface.
He held a hand out to her and she took it almost immediately. That gave him pause, but he recovered and gave her fingers a light squeeze. He tugged her in front of him. “I’m right behind you.”
“I’ll just bet you are.”
Mac bit back a smile. Another first. Getting her out in the middle of nowhere seemed to be loosening her hold on herself where he was concerned.
“I meant that if you lost your balance that I’d be here to catch you, but if you insist I be behind you for other reasons … Well, I don’t have problem with that, either.”
“Men,” she muttered.
“No, Princess. Not men. Mac. Only me.”
“Fine. Mac.”
“There you go. Now, up.”
Slowly, she took one rung on the ladder, then another. They ascended a step at a time until she found herself on a solid landing. From there, a short, wide staircase led to the front door.
“Why a treehouse?” she asked, looking over the railing at the bike far below.
“It’s not my primary residence. I just come out here when I want to get away from dealing with the dumbasses of the world.”
“Still … Why a treehouse? Why not a hunting or fishing cabin?”
“Because I don’t hunt and I can’t stand fishing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know. There’s nature around here and I have met very few residents who take part in it other than to walk trails every so often.”
“Before you moved here and opened Katz, there was a lot of outdoor tourism, especially in the 80’s. A lot of floating down the river near the springs, but that sort of went away during the next couple of decades. I think we’ll see it come back to life, though.”
“You said, before Katz opened. Are you saying I had part in the decline of outdoor tourism?”
“No.”
“Okay, good.”
“Is this what you want to talk about? Really?”
“It’s safer.”
Mac sighed and took her hand. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I know.” She closed her eyes, hiding away from him. So, he leaned close and kissed her eyelids. One by one, until she opened them again.
He took her mouth in a slow, tentative kiss. Seconds ticked by and hours could’ve passed for all he knew. They stood together, lips locked, neither moving.
Then, her tongue … She touched the seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue and that was all the invitation he needed.
Mac wrapped his arms around her, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and angled her head just so. He plundered. He took. He stole her very breath from her.
She held onto him, her fists grasping at the front of his tee shirt.
He backed her up, shuffling his feet between hers until she was pressed against one of the large logs holding up the base of the treehouse. Before he lifted his head from the intoxicating taste of her, he had her arms wrapped around the log behind her.
“You have,” he whispered against her neck, “The right to remain silent.” His lips coasted up her throat to her perfect chin, then back up to her mouth again. “Anything you do say, can be used against you. By me.”
“I … I don’t think that’s how it goes.”
“No?” he asked, fake, playful confusion taking over his voice. “It’s not?”
“No.”
“Hmm.
“Do you plan to take me out here?”
“Would you care?”
“No,” she said, emphasizing with a shake of her head. “I wouldn’t. Just take me this time.”
“Mmm. Good girl. But I think we’ll use the bedding inside.”
“Please, Mac.”
The tone of her voice brought his gaze up to meet hers. Fear met him in the liquid pools and threw him off balance. “Out here, against the pole or the railing isn’t what I had in mind.”
“I know. I … Please. Out here. Like this.”
Lust mixed with the fear and for a moment, Mac thought to call a halt to things again. But she’d said please. And if he pressed, he could get her to tell him what she was afraid of. That one would wait until after. “The condoms are inside. I’ll be right back.”
“No. No condoms.”
“Jackie …”
“No. I need it. Real. Nothing between.”
Mac eased his hold on her. “Why are you so insistent? And don’t close your eyes. Don’t shut me out. See me. See all of me.”
“I can’t get pregnant. I had everything taken out before I started hooking. I never wanted kids. I was too selfish. But I made every one of my clients use condoms. Every last one of them.”
“And I’m not a client.”
“No,” she said so soft he might have missed it if he hadn’t been staring at her mouth when she uttered the word. “I haven’t been with anyone like that in all the years since.”
“No one?”
“No one. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. Hooking was my choice. Sex for money was my choice. It bought me my independence and my club. But the cost was that I couldn’t get close to anyone like that. I couldn’t get close to a man.” Tears shown in her eyes and he wanted to wipe them away, but he sensed until she got everything out, she wouldn’t welcome touch or tenderness.
“What about me?”
“You’re the one difference. Then again, I haven’t been with you, yet. Kissing you, though … Kissing you was every bit as sweet and tumultuous as I knew it would be.”
“Has there been any pleasure for you?” It was such an intimate question to ask, but he needed to know she hadn’t gone without. It would break him to learn she’d not only been without a man’s touch but also her own.
“Yes.” She smiled, a little shy, a little mischievous. “I have a large toy box.”
God … “Are you sure? No condom?”
“I’m sure.”
“And out here?”
“Please.”
Mac nodded and took her at her word this time. He unbuckled his belt and tugged his shirt over his head. He —
“Tattoos,” she said, walking toward him, one hand outstretched.
“Yes.” The word ended on a hiss when her fingers connected with his bare skin.
“Wings. Angel’s wings.”
“Or demon wings. Whichever you prefer.” He’d prefer her to continue touching him for the next decade and beyond.
“Jaz did these, didn’t he?”
“He did. How did you know?”
“I can just tell his work. There’s something about the strokes and the depth of color.”
“I see.”
She lifted her light blue shirt and bared her torso, the matching bra, and then the bright pink ink in the indent of her shoulder. A cat with a diamond crown and the word Princess in swirly letters underneath.
“I’ve never seen that.” She often wore moderately revealing clothing when she was at work. It was part of the get up at the club. She was tasteful, but the ink? Yeah, he’d have seen that.
“It’s new. Since you called me Princess that first time.”
Mac gave a curt not and fiddled with the belt buckle before moving on to popping the button on his jeans. “You might want to go ahead and get those pants off.” He didn’t dare say too much else. What she told him about her tattoo had him choked up in a way he had no idea how to process.
If he hadn’t been in love with her before, he certainly would be now.