Getting the condom on was a little more difficult, since Mackenzie insisted on lending her hand to the cause. Only she was doing more touching than helping, and Hunter’s eyes rolled to the back of his head.
Her hands made a path from base to tip and back again, curving around him and exploring with a gentle curiosity that slayed him.
“Slow down, Trouble,” he said. “This is still ladies’ choice.”
“Good, because I want to see all of you.”
Placing his hand on hers, he stilled her movement. “You’re going to see us right through to the finish line at that pace. And I want to finish with you around me.”
“Like this?” she asked, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Good choice,” he groaned, covering himself and sliding home in one desperate stroke.
She gasped. He didn’t move. Just stood there, holding on tightly and welcoming the feeling of finally being inside her, being with her. Drinking in the sight of her.
Head thrown back, those long curls of hers spilling around her bare body and flirting with his forearms. But it was her expression that got to him. Full of warmth and wonder, not resignation.
This,he thought. This right here was the Mackenzie he remembered.
Free, passionate, so bright with life she shone. And so incredibly in the moment, her body wrapped around his, squeezing tighter and tighter until he was sure he’d suffocate.
What a hell of a way to go.
“If it’s my choice,” she whispered against his neck, “I choose you.”
The silence after Mackenzie’s announcement was so thick she was afraid to breathe.
Maybe because Hunter had sucked in a breath big enough to deplete the room of oxygen at her confession. It was as if those threelittle words had leveled the moment. As if she’d said the other three little words instead. And she was afraid that if she let it settle too long, the night would be ruined. But if she loosened her hold, it would all slip away.
And she’d start crying.
She hadn’t meant for it to come out. But she’d never been chosen. Had gone her entire life choosing people who were unable to really choose her back, to put her needs first. Not that they wouldn’t, but they couldn’t.
Her solution had been to go it alone.
That was before she’d understood how powerful she could feel with someone by her side. Giving as much as they took.
Hunter was an easy choice. He was genuine and brave and had this amazing capacity to love.
Mackenzie was a harder choice. She understood that. So it was okay if he didn’t choose her back.
At least that’s what she told herself. Because while making this work for the long term would require sacrifice on both sides, Hunter would be the one who’d sacrifice the most. Which was why she decided to pretend, for the moment, that it would work—that they worked—and fell heart first into his embrace.
Only she didn’t crash. Hunter was right there, holding her tightly. His strong arms came around to cradle her to him as he took her mouth in a kiss that was as sweet as it was drugging. Slow and languid and tender, one fading into the next.
The franticness from earlier was replaced by a warm confidence that moved between them, connecting them in a way that was breathtaking.
He slid one palm up her side, cradling the back of her head. The other drifted south to caress her butt, rocking her toward him, against him, until she felt full and complete—as if she’d finally found what she’d been missing.
She didn’t know how else to explain it. The hollowness inside warmed and spilled over, filling her in a way that was healing. It was the way he touched her, she decided, the way he held her as if she were enough.
“You feel perfect,” he breathed against her mouth.
And just like that, Mackenzie fell. Fast and completely. The truthfulness in his words shook her entire being, andoh boy, this didn’t feel like pretend anymore.
Nope, his kisses were so achingly gentle she felt delicate, feminine, and utterly adored. They melted Mackenzie’s heart as he pressed them slowly down her neck to her shoulder until the past three years fell away, and Mackenzie had no choice but to let go of the what-ifs and open herself up to the possibility of more. A feeling she had missed, and now that she’d found it again, she desperately wanted to cling to it with everything that she had.
Afraid she really was going to cry—or admit something even more embarrassing, like she still loved him—Mackenzie focused on the pleasure. Gave herself over to the slow withdrawals and even slower thrusts. Loved that he couldn’t be rushed. That he wanted her to enjoy every moment and wanted to enjoy the moment with her.
