Page 30 of Beacon

This is obviously what he was waiting to hear. With a throaty hum, he kisses my throat again and at the same time reaches around to slide his hands beneath my baggy shirt.

He caresses my breasts and belly and keeps kissing me until I’m hotly aroused. Then he unties my shorts and slides them and my panties down my legs.

He’s aroused too. I can feel the bulge of his erection in his pants as he pushes it against me. I can hear him working on his trousers, and then I feel his cock rubbing against my back and bottom purposefully.

I’m panting and trying not to whimper as he bends me over the arm of the chair, parts my legs, and slides his erection inside me.

He fucks me like that, fast and forceful and urgent. I’m helpless and uncomfortable and come to a fast, deep climax and then another one as he thrusts into me hard while my shorts are still bunched up around my ankles.

After I’ve gasped and whined through my second orgasm, Mack makes strained sounds of effort. He yanks himself out and slaps his cock against my bottom until he’s grunting out his own release.

We’re both limp and breathless afterward. It takes a minute for me to recover enough to straighten up.

Mack helps me stand and turns me around. We stare at each other for a minute.

I really need to pull up my shorts and panties, but I don’t.

“It was always so good with you,” I say at last. “The best I ever had. But it was neverthisgood. It was never like this.” Then I add in a small voice. “Was it?”

He shakes his head. Licks his lips. “No. It was never this good.”

There’s not much else to say. He finally steps back, and I pull up my pants and tie the string so the shorts won’t slip back down.

Then Mack says, “I guess we can start thinking about dinner.”

So that’s what we do.

6

Three days later,I wake up with a heavy clench in my stomach. I know why even before I open my eyes.

Today is the day I have to go home.

Today I have to leave Mack.

I really,reallydon’t want to.

Reluctantly I roll over on the bed in my room—Chloe’s old room—and position myself so I can look at Mack beside me.

He came to my room last night so we could have sex before going to sleep, and we were both limp and exhausted afterward. He evidently never made it back to his own room and his own bed.

He’s still asleep, breathing slow and deep, both arms resting above the covers. His beard is messy, and there’s a scar that runs from his jaw and down his neck toward his shoulder from a knife wound three years ago. One of hishands is clenched in the fabric like he can’t let go even in his sleep.

My heart clamps down hard at the sight of him. So hard it aches in my chest.

How the hell am I ever going to make myself leave this morning? How the hell am I going to spend the rest of my life without him?

If he asked me, I might stay with him—even here, even now. That’s how bleak my vision of a future without him is. He hasn’t asked, however. He hasn’t even brought it up.

The past three days have been better than I would have expected. Mack is still swinging back and forth between his old, warm self and the new, harder, closed-off man he’s become, but he hasn’t lashed out at me again. I’m sure he’s enjoyed having me here and not just for the sex.

And the sex… the sex has been hotter and deeper and more satisfying than I knew was possible a week ago.

I’ve been gazing at him sleep for a few minutes when his body twitches abruptly. His eyes are still closed as he lifts his head and mumbles, “Anna.” He sounds urgent. He reaches over and feels blindly until he’s clutching my hip.

“I’m here,” I say softly, trying to keep my voice from breaking. “I’m right here.”

With a throaty sound, he opens his eyes and turns his head toward me. After a few seconds, he must orienthimself because the tension relaxes on his face. He rolls onto his side so we’re facing each other. “You okay?”

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