Page 46 of The Gingerbread Bakery (Dream Harbor #5)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Now

A nnie walked into his house looking murderous.

Gorgeous and murderous. Her cheeks were still flushed pink from what they’d just done on the drive here, her hair in golden curls over her shoulder, her body like a walking fantasy in that red dress.

She looked like some kind of goddess sent here to personally kick his ass.

It had been an act of cowardice to provoke her like that, but Mac was afraid that this was the only way he could have her, that if he showed her any more of the truth she would just run. So instead, he’d fallen into old habits and pissed her off and prayed she wouldn't leave.

She had ditched her boots and coat by the door and stood seething in the middle of his kitchen; seething because she wanted more .

And that’s exactly what Mac wanted, too.

‘Hey, Annabelle,’ he said with a slow grin, the one she hated.

‘Don't hey Annabelle me!’ she hissed. ‘What the hell was that?’

‘A preview,’ Mac said, trying to keep up his confident smile even as he was doubting the wisdom of this plan.

Annie's eyes narrowed at him in a familiar glare, but there was something different about it. This time there was heat behind it, desire . Maybe there had been all along.

She huffed with impatience. ‘And is that all I get? A preview?’

Mac grinned. ‘Hell no, you get the whole damn show.’

He strode across the kitchen and took her face in his hands, dropping his mouth to hers before she could say another word, diving between her lips with his tongue, devouring her. Every little moan and whimper was his. Finally.

Her hands were greedy in his hair, pushing the jacket from his shoulders until he tossed it aside.

They somehow made it upstairs like that, grappling with each other, grabbing and pulling and kissing.

He pushed Annie against the wall when they made it to the top, pressing against her.

She pulled his hair, bit his bottom lip.

And he wanted all of it, all the punishment she could give him and more until finally she could forgive him.

He steered them into his bedroom as Annie tore at the buttons on the front of his shirt, clawing at him to get it off. He pushed her hands away, undoing the buttons himself, popping a few off in the process. Annie’s laugh was slightly unhinged.

He pulled back long enough to take his shirt off before Annie was on him again, kissing and tugging at his clothes, nipping at the skin on his throat.

‘Take your dress off, Annie,’ he rumbled. ‘Please,’ he added between wild, sloppy kisses. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams, completely undone, but he needed to see her, all of her.

She let go of him, breathing hard. Their gazes locked as she slipped the dress down off one shoulder and then the other. Down her arms, over her chest, her waist, her hips until she had shimmied out of the entire thing and stood in front of him completely naked.

An injured, desperate sound escaped his lips. ‘Fuck.’ The word was more sound than coherent thought, but it was all he could manage to say.

Underneath all her hard scowls and sharp remarks, Annie was actually all soft, golden curves. And he wanted to lick every single one.

‘Now you,’ she said, and Mac was happy to oblige, quickly pulling off his undershirt and kicking off his dress pants.

‘Keep going,’ Annie said with a smirk, waiting for him to shuck his boxer briefs.

He tucked his thumbs in the elastic waistband and held Annie's gaze as he pulled them down, letting his cock spring free. Annie tipped her head to the side like she was assessing the situation. Like she hadn’t seen it up close and personal this morning.

Mac couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Jesus Christ, Annie, did you scare the absolute shit out of every other guy you slept with?’

Annie shrugged. ‘Probably.’

He stepped toward her. ‘Lucky for you, you don't scare me.’

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his and Mac nearly blacked out.

‘You're absolutely fucking gorgeous. You know that, right?’ he whispered against her ear.

‘Thanks for noticing.’

‘I've always noticed.’

His cock pressed against the delicate skin of her stomach and, if she kept kissing his neck like that, he was afraid that little preview might be all she got tonight after all.

‘Get on the bed.’ He didn’t recognize his own voice. Who was this man who made demands like that? But he wanted Annie like nothing he’d ever wanted, and this felt like his last chance. Like if he didn’t convince her tonight, he’d have to give her up forever.

By whatever miracle was working in his favor this weekend, she did get on the bed and the sight of her there nearly killed him. She practically shimmered in the moonlight coming in through his window. She was like a dream.

He crawled on top of her, needing to feel her skin on his, needing to know she wasn't a dream. Not anymore. This time she was real.

He kissed her. Every inch, every gorgeous expanse of skin. He kissed and licked and bit until Annie was squirming underneath him, writhing in his bed sheets.

She kissed him back, her nails scratching tracks on his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

He looked down at her and every memory, every moment, every regret tumbled together. He had loved this woman for most of his life. He’d known her for nearly all of it. And he knew he wanted to be with her for the rest of it.

‘Annie, I…’

‘Don’t,’ she said, like she knew a confession, one last declaration, was coming. ‘We still have half an hour,’ she said, glancing at the clock. It was eleven-thirty. Another half hour and it would be tomorrow, the day she’d promised they would finally talk.

‘I still have thirty minutes,’ she said, giving his shoulder a shove. He laid back on the mattress and let her climb on top of him straddling his waist. She was watching him like she was expecting him to stop her, but nothing could stop this.

‘Condoms are in the bedside table drawer,’ he said, and Annie smiled. She reached over and grabbed one out of the top drawer, tearing the little packet open with her teeth. He hissed as she slid it over his length, her fingers on him an exquisite torture.

She notched his cock at her entrance pausing to look at him with those blue eyes one more time and then she took him one inch at a time. So slowly time stood still until she was fully seated, and Mac’s breath was caught in his throat.

‘Holy shit,’ Annie gasped, leaning forward, her hands braced on his shoulders. He held tight to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as they both adjusted to the intensity of the moment.

‘Look at me, Annie,’ he said, and she opened her eyes.

They were flipped from the last time they did this. It felt like the entire world had flipped since then, but this thing between them still felt more right than anything Mac had ever felt. And, by the way Annie was looking at him, she felt it too.

Tears had gathered in her eyes, and he reached up to brush them away.

‘Go ahead, darling,’ he said. ‘Fuck me like you hate me.’

Annie shook her head and whispered, ‘But I don't hate you.’

She leaned down and kissed him slow and deep, her hips mimicking the motion and Mac was lost. Lost to the world. Lost to everything except this . Annie had found him again.

They stayed like that for a long time, kissing and rocking with him inside her and her little moans filling the room, fucking like they didn’t hate each other at all. When it all became too much, she picked up the pace, grinding against him, chasing her pleasure.

Her blue-eyed gaze held his as she came, the cries racking her body and his name like a chant from her lips.

* * *

Annie collapsed onto Mac’s chest, her breath sawing in and out of her. She could feel his racing heart beneath her cheek.

He was running his hands up and down her sides and murmuring sweet words against the top of her head. If this was supposed to have been hate-sex, they had done something very wrong. But who was she kidding? Of course she didn’t hate him. That had been the problem all along, hadn’t it?

Mac rolled them so he was on top of her, and she realized he was still hard inside of her. He kissed her gently on her lips and cheeks, down the side of her neck.

‘You okay?’ he murmured.

The best Annie could do was a contented little humming sound. She could feel Mac’s grin on her neck.

He thrust his hips, and a spark of pleasure shot through her, aftershocks from that earthquake of an orgasm.

‘You know that shady little motel the kids used to party at outside of town?’ he asked, still kissing her, her collar bones, her shoulders.

‘Yeah?’ Why on earth would he be bringing that place up now?

‘That’s where I spent most of that year away.’

‘Mac, what are you talking about?’

He looked up, meeting her eyes. ‘I only traveled for the first couple of months, and then I got overwhelmed and sort of freaked out and I spent the rest of the time in that motel. Too afraid to come home and too afraid to go anywhere else.’

Annie stared at him speechless, her legs still wrapped around his waist, her fingers still trailing along the muscles of his back.

‘You weren’t wrong about me, Annie. I was in love with you. I wanted to come home to you, but I felt like too big of a loser to do it.’

‘Mac.’ She breathed his name, feelings she’d kept at bay for years threatening to tumble out of her.

‘After that, I did travel for real, and it was amazing, and good for me. I wasn’t lying about that. But three years ago, I was in town visiting my parents and I saw you through the window of the café and that’s when I decided to move home for good.’

Annie shook her head, her hair brushing along the pillow. What was he telling her? ‘No, no, you moved home so your parents could retire.’

‘No, I convinced my parents to retire once I did move home, but I came back for you . I saw you through that window and I knew I would never find everything I was looking for out there. Annie, I came back on the off chance that I could convince you to give us another try. I never stopped loving you. I still haven’t. ’

He came back for her . He loved her. He still did.

Hearing those words did exactly what she was afraid they would.

They cracked Annie wide open. She took his face in her hands and kissed him with everything she had until he was moving again, thrusting into her.

She clung to him as another orgasm tore through her.

Crying, she whispered that she loved him too, that she always had.

Mac’s movements became faster, more erratic until he came, groaning her name. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, his breath cooling the sweat on her chest.

She ran her hands over his shoulders.

‘I love you, Mac Sullivan,’ she said and when he looked at her his smile lit up the room.