Rekindled by Maisey Yates Page A

Stars burst behind her eyelids and she felt like she was falling.
     She held on to him hard, a sharp cry escaping her lips. And he didn’t stop. Instead,
     he pushed her farther, faster. Another orgasm came on the heels of the first, leaving
     her spent and breathless. And sweaty.
    “Oh,” she said, her breath coming in harsh pants. She put her hand on her forehead
     and brushed damp hair back from her skin. “That was hot, sweaty sex,” she said.
    “Yes,” he said, nearly as out of breath as she was. “And we aren’t done.”
    She looked back down at his still fully erect body. “Oh. No. We aren’t.”
    She didn’t see how it was possible, but desire coiled low inside of her again, promise
     of another release.
    He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed in with ease, kissing her mouth while
     he did. He moved slow and steady at first, each thrust measured, maddeningly controlled.
    “Come on,” she said, trying to push him on. Trying to get him to lose it. Because
     she had. She’d completely come undone for him and now she wanted the same. “Harder,
     Mac.”
    He complied, the next thrust rougher, a harsh sound on his lips when he was buried
     to the hilt inside of her.
    She arched against him, her breasts rubbing against his chest. He moved his hand down
     and gripped her thigh, tugging it up over his back, his movements less contained now.
     She could see him losing his grip, could see him succumbing to his own need, to his
     own desire.
    “More?” he asked.
    “Yes,” she whispered. “Don’t hold back. Let go.”
    He pressed his lips against her throat, his head lowered, his skin slick with sweat
     beneath her hands. And when he let go, when all of his tension released and he let
     out a harsh growl of completion, she went with him.
    They lay together in the aftermath, totally spent, completely unable to move. She’d
     never experienced anything like that before. Not even close. Eight years of sex with
     Daniel didn’t add up to anything nearly so big, so powerful, as these moments in Mac’s
     arms.
    Emotion, big, scary, expanded inside of her. She wanted to run, but she was too tired
     to move. And Mac’s arms felt so safe. His bed so soft. His body so strong and hot
     next to hers. She just wanted to give in to the emotion. She didn’t want to fight
     it.
    But she needed to fight it. She knew she did. Knew there was nothing but disappointment
     and pain down that road.
    In that moment, the knowledge didn’t make her want it any less.
    So just for a little while, she would turn and snuggle into Mac’s embrace, and there
     would be nothing more than them. Nothing more than this. The bed, Mac and Lucy.
    “Feel like you had your needs met?” he asked, his voice thick, sleepy.
    “Yes,” she said, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the tears pooling behind her
     lids.
    She was lying. All it had done was open up a whole new well of need. Exposed a chasm
     that she’d been doing such a good job of ignoring.
    She tried to pull up images of Daniel. Words he’d said. Things that had hurt her and
     diminished her. Something to remind her of why she needed to keep the feelings out
     of it. Something to hold them at bay.
    But she couldn’t. Because with Mac she was too far removed from that woman. She couldn’t,
     for one moment, believe any of her ex’s insults anymore, and it stole all of their
     power and vitality away from them.
    She wasn’t afraid of the memories. And they didn’t hurt, not like they’d hurt at the
     time. Not even like it had hurt to remember them a few weeks ago.
    It turned out hot, sweaty sex, could effectively knock off some pretty heavy chains.

Chapter Nine
    It was hard to find boundaries when your current lover was a live-in housekeeper.
    Mac didn’t particularly want to send Lucy back to her little house every night. He
     wanted her to stay in his bed. But that would get tricky. Seeing as it was her job
     to get up early and make breakfast, pack his lunch