Page 54 of Festive Faking
“No!” I cringed at the volume of my voice. Sitting up, I pulled the covers to my chest. “Last night was amazing.Youwere amazing. Honestly, I’d pictured what my first time would be like a million times, and I never expected to feel so safe. So, thank you for that.”
Mac’s lips turned up into a shy smile. “I had a great time too.”
I shifted so that I rested on my side and could take his hand in mine. “I know we fell asleep together, but it kinda caught me by surprise when we woke up. I guess, for me at least, it’s a little awkward being naked when we’re not, you know, all hopped up on hormones and trying to maul each other.”
“Fair enough.” His fingers offered a reassuring squeeze. Leaning in, he gave me a soft kiss. “I’ll give you a free pass this time, but I have to tell you, I could get used to waking up with a beautiful, naked woman in my bed.”
I frowned. The idea that there had been other women who came before me chafed like the one time I’d been stubborn enough to insist I could ride Snowflake in a dress. I knew it was probably a bad idea, but I still went there anyway.
Had Mac ever been in love with any of those women? Had he been as tender and caring with them as he’d been with me? Had he made them feel special, beautiful, desired?
One more thought struck, and my stomach lurched.
Had his twist on truth or dare been nothing more than a pickup? One he’d used countless times before to get women into bed?
Nausea churned in my gut, and excess saliva filled my mouth. I was going to be sick.
“Aspen?” Mac’s concerned voice reached my ears. “What’s wrong?”
“How many?” Fuck. I slammed my eyes shut as the embarrassment of my jealousy burned through my veins. I had no right to ask that question. Not after one night.
His confusion was audible. “I don’t understand. How many what?”
My fight-or-flight response kicked in, and suddenly, I needed to get out of here.
“Never mind,” I muttered, dropping the covers and scrambling off the mattress.
Fingers circled my wrist, halting me. There was a rustling of the sheets and the sound of bare feet hitting the hardwood.
Mac turned me to face him, standing before me. Brows drawn down, eyes searching, he asked, “How many what, Aspen?”
Ashamed, I dropped my gaze to the floor. “Women.”
He blew out a heavy breath. “You don’t want to know that.”
That meant it was worse than I imagined. Summoning all my courage, I raised my chin and met his eye as I declared, “Yes, I do.”
The hold on my wrist released, but there wasn’t time to pull away before two warm palms cupped my cheeks. “None of them meant anything. Not a one.”
My lower lip trembled, and I cursed myself for getting so emotional over this. “Tell me, please.”
“Here’s what I’ll tell you, Aspen. Last night wiped the slate clean for me. It might’ve been your only experience, but I wish more than anything it had been mine too. Because it was more than two bodies colliding with the goal of getting off; there was a connection, a merging of souls. I’ve never felt that before in my entire life, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to let it go.”
Jaw hanging slack, I let out a stunned exhale.
How the hell did you respond to something like that?
I blinked up at him as he softly stroked over my cheekbones.
“Do we have anywhere to be today?”
What was the date? Mac had sent my head spinning, so it took a minute to figure it out.
Today was Christmas Eve.
“We have church service to attend in the evening, and I’m sure we’ll be expected to make an appearance at the big house at some point before then.”
A mischievous twinkle lit up his dark eyes. “What’ll it take to get us off the hook until tonight?”
