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She whimpered.
The night was dark, but the beam of light from the door to the boathouse spread out enough that she could see Mac’s head above the water.
“Come here, Boston.”
He wasn’t asking—he was telling. But something about the tone of his voice told her that he wasn’t as in control as he wanted her to think.
She walked about midway down the dock and paused as Mackenzie slowly moved toward her, his look predatory as he stood up, the water lapping to just below his chest.
His hair was slicked back, his eyes dark and mysterious, and his chest…good Lord, the man looked as if he was carved from granite.
The tattoo on his left bicep drew her eye. “What does that mean?” A diversion for sure, but she was trying to calm the hell down.
Mac followed her gaze, and when he looked up at her again, he grinned wickedly. “Take your clothes off and I’ll tell you.”
She considered him for a moment, liking this game. “You think that I won’t do it?”
His grin widened. “I think that you’re afraid of the water.” He glanced down and raised an eyebrow wicked. “Or of what’s in it.”
An image of his cock jutting straight out from his body crossed her mind and again she shifted. It felt as if she was coming apart, and they hadn’t done anything but flirt and dance.
Lily glanced around once more. Mac had said no one was around, but she’d never been to the cottage before and the thought of anyone watching her…
“Pussy,” he said softly.
“Pussy?” she asked.
“You like scaredy-cat better? I kinda prefer pussy myself.” He paused, his voice low and reassuring. “There’s no one out here but us, Boston. Trust me.”
A few moments passed as she stared out at him in the dark, and she felt her inhibitions falling away, slipping from her skin until there was nothing left for it but to join him.
With a toss of her hair, Lily strode forward until she stopped in the beam of light thrown from the boathouse. She glanced down, eyes on Mackenzie as she reached for the thin straps of her gown.
Carefully, she tugged one and then the other off her shoulders, and with his eyes settled firmly on her, she pulled them down until her breasts were exposed. Her nipples, puckered from desire, were sensitive, and she hissed as the material slipped across them.
“Jesus,” Mac whispered, his eyes on her breasts.
The want in his voice empowered her, and Lily’s fingers trailed across her flesh until she found her nipples, and with her eyes locked on his, she slowly massaged them. The muscles along the side of his neck strained, and a slow smile spread across her face as she reveled in her feminine power.
“You like that, Mackenzie?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “What the hell do you think?”
The feeling inside her—the one of control and power—was intoxicating, and Lily threw caution to the wind. She ran with it.
Carefully she began to peel away her dress, sliding it down her body as the material stretched and gave over her hips. She paused just before she got to the good part, the part she knew he wanted to see, and cocked her head.
“Should I continue?”
“Take it off,” he spit out. “Now, Boston. Or I swear to God—”
She slipped the dress over her hips and let it fall in a pile of blue at her feet. She then kicked it to the side and spread her legs slightly, loving how hot he looked as he watched her.
“Fuck me,” he said hoarsely. “If I had known you were commando the entire night, I would have—”
“What would you have done, Mac?”
She took a step forward, her toes gripping the edge of the dock as she stood directly over him. His eyes, so dark under the night sky that they looked black, slowly moved down from the top of her head, lingering over her breasts before settling on the junction between her legs.
