The Complete Mackenzie Collection Read online

  “Not a year, not at the rate he’s going. But he’ll have to be seventeen, anyway. The senator has recommended him for the freshman class starting after he graduates. Less than a year and a half!”

  Fierce pride filled Wolf’s face, the warrior’s pride he’d inherited from both Comanche and Celt. His eyes glittered with black fire, and exultantly he lifted her high, his hands under her armpits, and twirled around with her. She threw back her head, shrieking with laughter, and suddenly Wolf felt his entire body clench with desire. It was as powerful as a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. She was soft and warm in his arms, her laughter was as fresh as the spring, and he wanted her out of the prim little shirtwaist she wore.

  Slowly his face changed to a harder, more primitive cast. She was still laughing as he lowered her, her hands braced on his shoulders, but he stopped when her breasts were level with his face. The laughter died in Mary’s throat as he deliberately brought her closer to him and buried his face between her breasts. His grip shifted, one arm locking around her buttocks and the other around her back, and his hot mouth searched for her nipple. He found it, his mouth clamping down on it through the barriers of her dress and bra, but the sensation was still so exquisite that her breath caught on a moan and her back arched, pushing her breast against him.

  It wasn’t enough. She burrowed her fingers through his hair, digging into his skull to push him harder against her, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted him with sudden, fierce desperation. The layers of cloth that kept him from her drove her mad, and she squirmed against him, low whimpers coming from her throat. “Please,” she begged. “Wolf—”

  He lifted his head, his eyes savage with need. His blood was thundering through his veins, and he was breathing hard. “Do you want more?” The words were guttural, a normal tone beyond him.

  She squirmed against him again, her hands clutching desperately. “Yes.”

  Very gently he let her slide down his body, deliberately rubbing her over the hardened bulge in his jeans, and both of them shuddered. Wolf was beyond thinking of all his reasons for not becoming involved with her, beyond anything but the urge to mate. To hell with what anyone thought.

  He looked around, gauging the distance to both house and barn. The barn was closer. Clamping his hand around her wrist, he strode toward the big open double doors that revealed the dim interior.

  Mary could barely get her breath as she was all but dragged in his wake. Her senses bewildered by the sudden cessation of pleasure, she was confused by his actions and wanted to ask what he was doing, but she didn’t have enough oxygen in her lungs to form the question. Then they were inside the barn, and she was swamped by the perceptions of dim light, animal warmth and the earthy smells of dust, hay, leather and horses. She heard soft nickers and the muffled stamping of hooves on straw. Wolf led her into an empty stall and dragged her down onto the fresh hay. She sprawled on her back, and he came down on top of her, his muscled weight pressing her even deeper into the hay.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, reaching up to thrust her fingers into his long hair and pull him down to her.

  “I’ll kiss you all over before I’m through with you,” he muttered, and bent his head. Her mouth opened under the force of his, and his tongue moved into her in a deep rhythm that she instinctively recognized and accepted, responded to eagerly. He was heavy, but it was so natural that she bear his weight that she rejoiced in the pressure of his body. She wrapped her arms around his thickly muscled shoulders and hugged him even tighter to her; she wanted to be as close as she could to him, and to that end her hips undulated slightly, adjusting to the carnal pressure of his loins.

  The slow movements of her hips beneath him made him feel as if his head would explode from the rush of blood through his body. He made a low, rough sound in his throat and reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. He thought he would die if he didn’t feel her silky skin under his hands, if he didn’t sheathe his throbbing flesh inside her.

  It was startlingly new to her, bringing a delicate flush to her cheeks, but it was still so right that she didn’t even think of protesting. She didn’t want to protest. She wanted Wolf. She was female to his male, warm and sexual, intensely aware of being a woman and offering herself to the man she loved. She wanted to be naked for him, so she helped him by pulling her arms free of the sleeves as he tugged the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to her waist. She had felt racy, daring to buy a bra with a single front clasp, but as he looked down at her breasts, barely covered by the thin, flesh-colored material, she was so glad she had done it. He deftly opened the clasp with one hand, a trick she hadn’t learned yet, and watched the edges pull back to bare her soft curves, stopping before her nipples were revealed.

  He made that rough sound again, almost like a growl, and bent to nuzzle the bra aside. His mouth, warm and wet, slid across her breast and clamped on the tightly beaded nipple. She jumped, her entire body reacting to a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, as he sucked strongly at her. Mary’s eyes closed, and she moaned. She couldn’t bear it; it felt too good, a hot river of pleasure-pain impulses running from breast to loin, where an empty ache made her press her legs together and arch beneath him, silently begging for the release her body had never known, but sensed with ancient wisdom.

  Wolf felt her move beneath him again, and the last shred of control he’d retained, vanished. Roughly he jerked her skirt to her waist and kneed her thighs apart, settling himself between the vulnerable V of her legs. She opened her eyes, a little shocked by what she could feel down there, but eager to know more. “Take off your clothes,” she whispered frantically, and tore at the buttons on his shirt.

  He reared back on his knees and tore his shirt open, then off. His naked skin glistened with a fine patina of sweat; in the dim light, filled with floating dust motes, the overlay of sleek bronze skin on powerful muscles gave him the look of live art sculpted by a master’s hand. Mary’s gaze moved hungrily, feverishly, over him. He was perfect, strong and male, the scent of his body hot and faintly musky. She reached out for him, her hands sliding over his broad chest, lightly haired in a diamond pattern stretching from nipple to nipple. She touched those tight little buds, and he froze, a massive shiver of pleasure rippling through his muscles.

  He groaned aloud and dropped his hands to his belt. He unbuckled the wide band of leather, then unsnapped his jeans and jerked the zipper down, the hissing of the metal teeth blending with their harsh breathing. With some last desperate fragment of willpower, he kept himself from lowering his pants. She was a virgin; he couldn’t allow himself to forget that, even in his urgency. Damn it, he had to regain some control, or he’d both scare and hurt her, and he would die before he turned her first time into a nightmare.

  Mary’s slim fingers curled in the hair on his chest and tugged lightly. “Wolf,” she said. Just his name, just that one word, but her voice was warm and low and drugged sounding, and it beckoned him more powerfully than anything he’d known before.

  “Yes,” he said in response. “Now.” He leaned forward to cover her again, then froze as a distant sound came to his ears.

  He swore quietly and sank back on his heels, battling desperately to control his body and his frustration.

  “Wolf?” Now her tone was hesitant, consternation and self-consciousness creeping into it. That inflection made him feel murderous, because she hadn’t been self-conscious before. She had been warm and loving, willing to give herself without reserve.

  “Joe will be here in a few minutes,” he said flatly. “I can hear his truck coming up the mountain.”

  She was still so far out of it that she merely looked confused. “Joe?”

  “Yes, Joe. Remember him? My son, the reason you’re up here in the first place.”

  Her cheeks flooded with color, and she jerked into an upright position, as far as she could, because her thighs were still draped over his. “Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God. I’m naked. You’re naked. Oh my God.�