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“Then why is he here?”
“Because I asked him to come.”
“Why would you ask him to come if you’re not into him?”
“I never said I wasn’t into him. I just said that we weren’t involved.”
It was a lie. Blair was just a friend—a good friend, mind you, but nothing more.
Mac inched forward, and the shadows that played across his face emphasized the sharp angles and full lips. His eyes, always so light, were now dark, and for the first time, she noticed how fast his pulse raced at the base of his neck.
“Yet,” she continued, strangely exhilarated.
Mac studied her for a few moments—a few moments that felt as if she were going to crawl out of her skin.
“Interesting,” he said, a slow grin creeping over his face.
Something about his attitude pissed her off. “How is that interesting?” she snapped.
Mackenzie shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to be your type is all.”
“I don’t have a type.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You do.”
“And I suppose you think that you’re my type?”
Oh God, Lily. Shut your damn mouth.
His smile widened, and for a few moments, there was nothing but silence between them.
“Have you kissed him?” he asked, his voice low and hitting a timbre that no man had a right to hit.
Chin jutted out, Lily dropped her arms from her chest, totally aware that her nipples were saluting him and not caring one damn bit. She was unnerved, pissed off, frustrated, and…horny as hell.
“That’s none of your business.”
His head dipped and Lily’s toes curled into the sand. She was pretty sure it was the only thing anchoring her and preventing her from falling into him. Considering it was sand, she was going to face-plant into Mackenzie if she didn’t get her shit together.
“What if I want to make it my business?”
Lips parted, she stared up at him. The ache that had lingered inside her for hours was now front and center. Her chest rose and fell, and when his dark gaze dropped to her breasts, she thought she might have gasped. Or groaned.
Or both.
“Do you remember the way I kissed you on New Year’s Eve? Do you
remember how good it felt?”
Again, she had nothing and stared up at him in silence. It didn’t matter though, because Mackenzie seemed to have no trouble doing all the talking.
“Because I do, Boston, and I’ve thought about it a lot,” he murmured, lashes lowered. “I’ve thought about how sweet you tasted, how soft your mouth was, and I…”
She waited for him to continue, fighting the need to cross her legs and somehow alleviate the ache between them.
“I think it would be a shame if we didn’t at least try and see if it was fluke.” His breath was hot on her cheek. “Maybe that night wasn’t as hot as I remember.” His hands slid up her shoulders. “Maybe when I kissed you…maybe when I slid inside you…maybe all of that was just a fantasy and not real.”
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, not aware that she’d spoken aloud until his eyes snapped back to hers. Her breath caught in her chest at the look inside them.
