Page 105 of Here & There

I gasp when he breaks the kiss and his hands cup my neck, my jaw, his fingers sliding across my pulled back hair.

“I’m sorry,” Mac says against my lips. “I’m so sorry, Shelby.”

“Why?” I breathe. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Mac holds me just a few inches away, his fingers locked around the base of my skull, his palms on my jaw. It’s like he wants to see me but doesn’t want to let me go.

I can’t begin to cover how that makes me feel.

“I’m sorry I ever made you feel like I didn’t want you,” he says. “Last night was fucking unbearable. I wanted you so badly I couldn’t breathe.” He kisses me again, deep and with a rush of heat, then pulls away, his eyes still on my swollen mouth. “I got in the truck in the middle of the night. More than once.” He runs a callused thumb along my collarbone, his skin rough against me, the contrast underscoring every last perfect difference between us.

“You what?” My heart wants to savor every word he says. But the pulsing between my legs wants him to move. To touch every part of menow.

“I wanted to throw rocks at your window, Shelby. But I couldn’t trust myself not to go in there and throw you over my shoulder to bring you home.”

I laugh softly. “You’re out of your mind.”

“No. I’m just in…” He cuts himself off. “I just can’t stand to think of you existing, breathing the same air, looking at the same stars, and not have you right here with me.”

The terrifying thought that this can’t be real hits me. A man like this can’t exist, and he especially can’t wantme.I must be dreaming. But I know I’m not. I know because Mac’s eyes areon mine as he lets one hand trail down my throat, over my collarbone. Only his fingers trail over my chest, but it’s enough to make my nipples spring into tight, arched points.

He makes a guttural sound as he draws his fingers over the twin pebbles protruding from my shirt.

“Mac,” I gasp, heat surging between my legs.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long, Shelby,” he rasps. “You have no idea.”

I try to push the insecurity from my thoughts, but I can’t help the nervous laugh. “You haven’t.”

He freezes. “I have.”

I swallow hard. I hate the nagging need in the back of my mind wanting validation. Wanting him to reassure me that he wants me. But maybe it’s not that. Maybe all I need is proof. “Show me,” I whisper.

He closes the door behind him, then turns around to face me. “No.”

Nerves make my belly tighten. “No?”

He shakes his head. “No, Shelby. You show me.”

I swallow. Laugh, nervously.

“I want you to show me what I’ve wanted to see for so long.” He guides me back to the bed, easily lifting me onto it. “Please. Don’t make me beg.”

I laugh softly.

“Unless you like that?” he asks.

I laugh. Nerves have been rattling through me, but his words and the way he’s looking at me, like he means what he says, give me a burst of self-confidence. Like him looking at me isn’t a mistake or generic lust.

Like he wantsme.

I wish I’d worn a nicer bra, but I didn’t exactly know this would be happening.

I didn’t dare even imagine it.

The bra is a gray jersey cotton that’s meant to support my large cup size, not scream sexy beast.

But when I pull my shirt off, Mac’s pupils flare.

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