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Foster kept his hand poised at her neck, his fingertips teasing the soft skin at her nape. Waiting for a sign she wanted more.
Mac smiled, nuzzling against his hand before stepping forward and palming his chest. “Are you still worried that creep might bust through the door?”
“Not tonight.”
“And will Zain’s new system let us know if anyone breaches the perimeter?”
“It’ll let us know if anyone so much as breathes on it, let alone tries to gain access.”
“Then, what are you waiting for?”
He forced himself to hold his ground and not toss her over his shoulder before taking the stairs two at a time. “I don’t want you to think I’d take advantage?—”
Mac cut him off with a delicate finger over his lips. “Do me a favor?”
He nodded.
“Shut up and make love to me.”
Chapter Eleven
Either she was certifiably, insane and this would turn out to be an epic mistake, or she was finally finding her footing.
It only took one look at how Foster’s mouth curved into a stunning smile beneath her finger for Mackenzie to acknowledge he was the reason she’d stay sane. Why civilian life would be far more rewarding than she’d counted on.
That maybe she’d finally be able to move beyond Josh’s death and make peace with his ghost.
Foster tsked, his hand sliding back to cup her head as he leaned in. “Are you sure you want this? Because you seem a thousand miles away.”
She laughed, then jumped into his arms, laughing harder when he caught her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Just thinking…”
“That this is either one hell of an epic beginning or a disaster in the making?”
“Pretty much.”
“And?”
She cinched her arms around his neck as she leaned in, nipping at his bottom lip before teasing him with a soft kiss. “I say we let this dark horse run.”
He closed his eyes, exhaling a raspy breath before smiling as he brushed his mouth over hers. “Hell yeah. Which means, you’d better hold on. This is gonna be one hell of a ride.”
He kissed her. Not soft and gentle. This was desperate. Hungry. The kind of kiss that started wars. She ate at his mouth, moaning when he cupped her ass and started walking, somehow getting them up the stairs without tripping. Foster bumped them down the hallway, pausing every few feet to press her against the wall and reclaim her mouth.
His bedroom door bounced open as he carried her through, pausing just long enough to kick it shut behind them before continuing to the bed. He barely slowed as he placed one knee on the mattress then followed her down, landing them mostly in the middle.
Mac stared up at him, loving the way his hair teased his eyes and how he seemed to be focused on drawing air in then forcing it out. As if she’d pushed him past some internal limit, and he was fighting not to simply strip her down and thrust inside.
She lifted her hand and palmed his jaw. “Foster.”
He groaned, resting his forehead on hers. “The way you say my name. It’s a nice change from Beckett.”
“Then, you’re gonna love the way I scream it.”
His muscles tensed, his breath escaping in a harsh rasp. “Mackenzie…”
But she was already yanking on the hem of his tee — dragging it up his back and over his head. He tucked his chin enough she managed to pull the fabric off and toss it to one side before he dipped down — took her mouth with his.
His kisses were heaven. Or maybe hell. Some fiery combination of both? Or maybe it was lust wrapped in a promise. A glimpse of the future without losing the intensity of the moment.