herself onto me slowly, her eyes shut, her mouth open. I put my hands on her hips and fought the urge to buck up beneath her. When I was buried inside her, she opened her eyes and looked at me as she started to move.
At that moment, I didn’t care about the age difference or whose daughter she was or how I was going to add her to the chaotic mess that was my life. All I knew was how good it felt to be with her this way, to see the desire in her eyes, to watch her come apart above me, to be the man she saw when she looked at me, not the one I saw when I looked at myself.
We went a little slower this time—probably because I let her set the pace for once. She didn’t race to the finish line, but the gradual buildup was just as intense, and the climax an even sweeter reward, our bodies pulsing together in perfect harmony.
When it was over, she fell forward, her head on my shoulder, her chest heaving against mine. I wrapped my arms around her and inhaled the scent of her soft wavy hair.
“Mack,” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have to go home tonight?”
I thought for a moment, realizing quickly that I didn’t want this fantasy to end so soon. Tonight, I was just a man going after what I wanted. What I needed. What felt good. When I walked out of here, it was back to real life. Who knew when I’d have this chance again? The truth was, I had no clue how this was going to work—how I would balance being who I needed to be with who I wanted to be. Maybe I was just setting myself up for another failure. Maybe it was stupid to think I could make this work. Maybe in a week she’d realize that feeling like somebody to me wasn’t worth the trouble and she’d move on.
But tonight … tonight could be ours.
“No,” I told her. “I could stay here with you.”
She picked up her head. “Do you want to stay here with me?”
“Yes,” I said, pressing my lips to hers. “I do.”
Frannie
I had to work the next morning, although I’d never been more tempted to call in sick. We’d been up half the night. I was exhausted and sore and so hungry I could have eaten a bear. But I was giddy too—when I woke up, the first thing I did was look at the man sleeping next to me to make sure last night hadn’t been a dream.
Mack lay on his stomach with his head completely under the pillow. Suppressing a giggle, I carefully slid out of bed and jumped in the shower. The smile stayed on my face as I washed and conditioned my hair, soaped, rinsed, and dried off.
Back in my bedroom, with the towel wrapped around me, I couldn’t resist sneaking over to the bed and lifting up one corner of the pillow to peek at Mack’s face.
Even asleep, he was so handsome my heartbeat quickened. His profile was sharply defined and masculine, his jaw thick with scruff, his nose strong and straight. He slept with both arms over his head, and the muscles on his bare shoulders bulged thick and round. I was tempted to run my hand over them, but I didn’t want to wake him up. We’d only been sleeping for about four hours.
His eyes opened.
“Hi,” I whispered, smiling.
“Hi.” He grabbed the pillow I was holding up and stuffed it beneath his cheek, closing his eyes again. “Was I snoring?”
“No. Do you snore?”
“I don’t think so. But the girls tease me about it. Teasing me is their favorite thing to do.”
My grin widened. “What else do they tease you about? Besides your cooking.”
“My hairy stomach, my hairy chest—”
“I like the hair on your chest. It’s hot.”
“Thank you. Then there are my wrinkles, my gray hair—”
“You do not have wrinkles. And I like your gray hair, too.” I brushed my fingertips over the silvery strands at his temples. “You’re perfect.”
Opening his eyes again, he smiled and tugged at my towel. “Come back to bed.”
Ditching the towel, I scrambled into his arms, loving his bare skin against mine. “I’ve only got a minute,” I said reluctantly, tucking my wet head beneath his chin.
He held me close and kissed my hairline. “You have to work?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I wish I didn’t. What are you going to do today?”
“Pick up the kids. Clean the