OVER THE COURSE of a few days, while we were still alone together in Cabo before I had to head back to Portland, I decided that marrying Mackenzie was every bit the perfect antidote to being betrayed by my former fiancée and my shitty excuse for a brother. Mackenzie was sweet, and so damned innocent. In seemingly every way, she was all the things that Amanda was not.
It didn’t take long before I was devising ways to make Mackenzie blush—something I quickly learned was almost second nature to her—because her blushes were sexy and adorable and absolute perfection, and because I didn’t think Amanda had possessed enough common decency to be capable of producing a blush.
When we walked hand in hand along the beach, letting our toes sink into the wet sand, I leaned over and whispered in Mackenzie’s ear all the things I wanted to do with her as soon as we were alone in the cottage. She turned as pink as the sky surrounding the setting sun. She turned even pinker when I followed through, her skin flushed and damp. I didn’t care that it took a long time to get her to come, either. All the time we spent together in bed only helped us get to know one another, at least sexually, and she seemed to be getting used to me.
When we ate a late dinner at a busy cantina not far from the cottage one night, I stroked her leg beneath the table, beginning at her knee but gradually working my way up her inner thigh until her eyes turned dark in the dim candlelight and she bit her lower lip. “Not here,” she admonished me. But her muscles quivered and jumped beneath my touch before I took my hand away, and a rosy color overtook her—including the bit of her chest that was visible over the top of her sundress—leaving no doubt how much she was beginning to be affected by my touch.
When we stopped at one of the tiny tourist shops in town to buy her a swimsuit, I followed her into the changing rooms with the intention of helping her try them on and make a decision. Admittedly, I wasn’t much help on that score, since I kept taking articles of clothing off her so I could lick her skin in all the places her clothes covered. But eventually, she shoved my hands and my face away and got around to trying on the swimsuits. I preferred the skimpy little bikinis that left virtually nothing to the imagination; Mackenzie gravitated toward the one-piece swimsuits that would befit someone’s grandma more than a gorgeous young woman on her honeymoon. Eventually, we compromised on a modest bikini that hid a lot more of her assets than it revealed, but at least it showed off her flat belly and the gentle curve of her hips. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink when we walked out of the changing room to find a line of a half dozen people waiting their turn.
When we sat in the hot tub in the cottage’s garden late at night, I tugged her into my arms and undid the strings to her bikini top with my teeth. With only the moonlight and stars overhead, I couldn’t be sure she was blushing—but all signs pointed that direction. The way she scrambled to catch her top as it fell away from her perfect, round breasts and into the water. The soft hitch of her breath when I dragged her onto my lap and slid a hand inside her bottoms to tease her clit, followed by her gentle, almost inaudible moan.
Those little sounds she made had me hard enough to pound nails in about two seconds flat.
“I want to make you come like this,” I said, my mouth hovering next to her ear as I began to knead her breasts with my free hand. They were soft and perky and bouncy, each of them a perfect palmful—or a perfect mouthful, depending. I couldn’t get enough of her breasts.
“Outside?” Mackenzie’s voice was a squeak of shock. “Anyone could walk by and hear. Or see.”
We’d already been out in the hot tub for almost hour, and not a soul had come close to our small stretch of the beach. At least not near enough for it to make any difference. A few partiers had walked past at the shoreline about half an hour ago, but they would never have heard us over their own raucous noisemaking.
Besides, the possibility of getting caught was a bit of a turn-on. No, I didn’t want to embarrass Mackenzie, but still. Maybe, somewhere deep down inside, I had an exhibitionist streak. Made sense, considering my chosen profession. I loved the roar of the crowd when I was on the ice.
I wanted all eyes on me when I scored. Apparently, that applied to every sense of the word.
But something told me Mackenzie wouldn’t want that, which meant I’d be an absolute ass if I pushed her into it. I had no doubt she’d go along with it if I pressed her—she seemed to acquiesce far more than she stood her ground, as though she didn’t believe she could make demands, even if it was something important.
Fuck. I couldn’t do that to her, no matter how much the idea of making her come in the hot tub under a starry sky might turn me on.
And it did. Oh boy, did it ever turn me on.
With a sigh, I released her and started to climb out of the water. I held out a hand for Mackenzie. “Come on. There’s that big garden tub in the master bathroom.” And it had a skylight overhead, so it wouldn’t be all that different—a bit more privacy for her, but the same general setup.
“Yeah?” she replied, looking up at me with those big, sweet, lust-filled eyes, a hint of relief in the single word.
As soon as she climbed out of the hot tub, I wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her against me, reveling in the sensation of her smooth, wet skin sliding against mine.
This woman was the perfect balm for my bruised and battered ego. She made me feel like a god with the way she looked at me, like I was her hero, the man who’d rescued her from an awful future.
Would I ever deserve that kind of adulation? Doubtful.
She headed toward the bathroom ahead of me and started running the water in the tub while I searched the cabinets for some sort of bubble bath or salts, or something to put in the water to make it sexier. All I came up with were a few candles, which I set out on the counters and lit with a match.
I only wished I could say I was the perfect man for her. The more I got to know her, and how sweet and innocent and sheltered she truly was, the more I worried I was doing this for all the wrong reasons, right from the start.
I’d never set out to hurt her. The plan was to help her, and to get back at Amanda and Colby while I was at it. But had my need for revenge overpowered all thought of common sense? Had I dragged Mackenzie into my plans under false pretenses?
There was a definite possibility I’d fucked up, at least with my intentions.
Was there any chance I could avoid crushing Mackenzie with my own need for revenge? I wasn’t sure, but now that I’d thought about it, I knew I had to try. She’d already been crushed too many times; stomping her beneath my boots would be more than she could bear. Definitely more than she should have to bear. I doubted she’d ever hurt a fly before, so she deserved to have someone looking out for her.
And besides, I wasn’t an asshole. I was a good guy. I was the one who’d been fucked over and had my heart dragged through the mud.
I was a motherfucking good guy.
Wasn’t I?
As I stripped off my trunks, climbed into the steaming water, dragged Mackenzie back against my chest, and tucked her head under my chin, I honestly wasn’t sure anymore.
And that scared the shit out of me.
Because what good guy married some sweet, innocent girl he didn’t know, not to save her (even if that was what he might claim) but to exact revenge against his ex? And wasn’t that precisely what I’d done? While drunk off my ass, no less—so drunk I couldn’t even get it up to consummate the fucking marriage.
I was an asshole of epic proportions. Maybe Mackenzie didn’t know that about me yet. Maybe she was still looking at me like I was some goddamned knight on a fucking white charger, rushing in to save the day for her, but that wasn’t even close to the truth.
I was the one who needed saving.
And now, I needed to figure out how to make this right. Before I screwed both of us over.
She tipped her head back slightly, her lips parted in invitation. I took advantage of what she offered—just as I had been since the moment we’d met—slipping my tongue between her lips, past her teeth, to glide alongside hers. A soft, almost inaudible moan met me, thank goodness. At least I could do this one thing right. And for that matter, I could do it for the right reasons—because this beautiful, guileless woman was my wife.
She still had the bikini bottoms on, which was adorable even though they were in my way. I hooked my thumbs under the waistband on either side of her hips and dragged the fabric down under the water to gain access to her pussy.
She practically jumped back against me when I palmed her.
“Too tender?” I asked, easing up a bit with the intensity of my touch. In all honesty, I didn’t have any idea how long she’d need to recover from all the fun in the sheets we’d been having to this point. She hadn’t acted as if it had hurt too much that first time, but she had been a virgin. Even if it hadn’t been clear from her reactions, the proof had been all over the condom.
The last thing I wanted to do was cause her pain, though. I’d already done enough to hurt her, and she didn’t even know the half of it.
“Not too tender,” she finally said. “I’m just not used to all of this.”
I couldn’t stop the chuckle from rumbling up through my chest. She had no idea how fucking delightful she was with her purity. “All of this?” I repeated, cupping one of her breasts with my other hand and giving her a gentle squeeze that had her leaning her head back against my shoulder, her eyes pressed closed.
“This…touching and whatnot.”
Touching and whatnot. She was so fucking cute, I almost couldn’t stand it. Whatnot was going to be our new code word for fucking, whether she realized it yet or not. But I didn’t want her to think I was teasing her, even if I might be. I wasn’t sure how well she’d take being teased at this point, so we’d just have to save that for later.
“Well,” I said, “there’s one sure way to get you used to it.”
“How’s that?”
“Practice.”
“Oh,” came out as barely more than a puff of air.
Even from behind her and without having a clear view of her face, I could practically feel her blushing.
I could get addicted to Mackenzie if I wasn’t careful.
But something told me there were worse things in the world I could do than develop an addiction to my wife. And she was definitely a nice change of pace from what I’d had before she’d come along. I just needed to figure out how to make this work.
First, though, I had a job to do; I needed to make Mackenzie come again and help her figure out how to relax enough to let it happen. Considering all of that, life was pretty fucking good.
Or at least it could easily be a hell of a lot worse.
THERE WAS SOMETHING amazing and almost dreamlike about Riley’s hands. It wasn’t just their size or their strength, either, although those factors shouldn’t be overlooked—and I certainly didn’t intend to overlook any piece of him. If anything, the amazing part was how gentle those hands could be despite their size and strength.
He used them to caress my most tender places. It would have been easy for him to go too far, to squeeze too tightly or press with too much force, but he didn’t. Somehow, he knew the perfect amount of pressure to use, gradually stoking a blaze within me that was strong enough to burn for hours.
I melted against his broad chest, allowing his muscular arms and legs to envelop me as his hands worked their magic.
He pressed kisses to my neck and shoulder, both hands constantly in motion: a slight pinch to my nipple followed by a firm kneading of the full breast; a finger swirling circles around the nub between my legs before dipping inside me; a strong hand massaging my belly, my upper thighs, my neck and back.
It was lazy and languid, an all-encompassing heat that started in my belly and spread out to the farthest reaches of my limbs. I had no choice but to succumb to it, allowing myself to revel in Riley’s determined attentions.
He slipped one hand up to tip back my chin, and then he was kissing me, all tongue and suction and hunger. And this time, it wasn’t like wildfire. More like a quick explosion, more powerful than I could have prepared for, followed by a long, low burn. I groaned into his mouth and shuddered from the sheer force and shock of pleasure that claimed me.
If I wasn’t careful, I might get used to all of this. And that would be a huge mistake.
Because every time I thought I had things figured out, every time my life started to turn around, something would happen to pull the rug out from under me.
Riley was the best thing that had happened to me in a very long time, the best thing since my time living with Jack and Donna.
But nothing in my life had ever lasted.
And especially not the good things.
As a product of the foster care system, I knew only one thing with any degree of certainty: if something seemed too good to be true, it was. What was the phrase from The Outsiders? “Nothing gold can stay.”
Which meant I had to keep my guard up, ready for the other shoe to drop. Because it was coming. I didn’t know what it would be or when to expect it, but the last thing I needed was for it to catch me unawares, the way everything with Paul had done.
I could enjoy this while it lasted…but I couldn’t afford to leave myself wide open like that. Not completely.
No matter how much I might want to.
I was probably an idiot for believing in fairy tales and happy-ever-after endings. I only hoped I’d have enough time to put together a plan to get myself out of it when everything fell apart around me.
Because it always did.
That was the way my story was sure to end, with the walls crashing in around me, crushing me beneath the rubble. I wasn’t living inside a romance novel. This was my life. And in my life, things didn’t always work out for the best. More often, they worked out for the worst.
People always told me I had such a tender heart. They tried to protect me from the awfulness of the world, guarding me against the evils out there.
Maybe it was time for me to start guarding my own heart. It’d be better to do that before I got burned once again. Not that I thought Riley would intentionally hurt me, but lots of people caused damage without meaning to do so.
Especially when it came to me.