Authors: Liliana Hart
Dane held her gaze as he began to move in and out of her, slowly at first to make the adjustment of such a tight fit easier. But when she began pushing back against him, he couldn't help but move faster. Their eyes never wavered off each other. His hands clamped around her waist as he felt her pussy grasp him tighter. Her whole body shook with pleasure and she screamed out his name as she came to pieces around him.
Her pleasure was all he needed to let go. He bent over her and thrust deep. One…two…three times before his come shot deep inside of her. He collapsed over her back and nuzzled at her neck.
"I love you, Charlotte. I always have." But his words went unheard. She was fast asleep.
Dane pushed away from her and untied her legs. His own limbs were unsteady as he lay down beside her and gathered her in his arms. She stirred against him and opened sleepy, wary eyes.
"Dane," she said. "Please don't make this harder than it is. Can't it be enough that I still want you? That you're the only man I've ever wanted?"
He sighed against her hair and felt his heart clutch. "Come with me," he said, pulling her up by the hand and leading her into the bathroom.
He sat her down on the edge of the sunken whirlpool tub and went about turning the water and jets on. And when the temperature was just right, he picked her up in his arms and lowered them both into the frothy water.
He sat her between his thighs so her back leaned against him, and he went about the task of washing her. Paying homage to her body, and leaving her no doubt that she was adored. He reveled in her gasps and sighs of pleasure and shifted his body so his erection nestled between her thighs. He pushed into her slowly, her swollen tissues and the water washing away her natural lubricant making the entrance difficult.
When he was inside her to the hilt he propped her legs over his thighs and brought his arms around her middle. Just holding her. Just touching her. He poured soap in his hands and slicked them across her breasts and down her stomach. She clenched around him in anticipation.
"I want to know our son, Charlotte." She stiffened in his arms, but he kept up his gentle massage until she relaxed again. "I can't change the past. I'm in a position now where I can provide for you both. Give you the things you deserve to have. I couldn't offer that to you before."
"Those things never mattered to me, Dane. You were all that mattered."
"Being able to provide them mattered to me. I've had an offer from a publisher to write a book on some of my experiences as a journalist. Some of the things that never made it into my columns. I wouldn't have to travel if I took him up on it. I could write from here. Be with you. Get to know our son."
He lifted her body up and down with his soapy hands so his cock stimulated her swollen folds. He moved a hand between her legs and rubbed her clit in slow circles while massaging a nipple between two fingers with his other hand.
"I love you, Charlotte. Please forgive me. Let me back into your life. Into our son's life. I'll beg if I have to. And I promise to never leave you again."
Quiet sobs shook her body even as she writhed against him in pleasure. Water splashed over the edge of the tub as his thrusts became harder. His fingers moved faster and his balls tightened with impending release. He buried his face in her neck and licked and nibbled at the skin just under her ear. Charlotte screamed out his name and pulsed around his cock just as he thrust one final time and spilled out his own orgasm.
He stifled a curse as she pulled away from him, but he let her go. There was nothing else he could do to plead his case. He'd told her the truth about staying in Surrender. It was time to come home and put down roots. Whether or not he put them down with Charlotte would be her decision.
He drained the water from the tub and followed her out, accepting the towel she offered him with a wary look. Her hair was damp at the ends, so she put it up in a clip and dried the rest of her body in silence. Dane followed her back to the bedroom and watched as she got in the bed. He was just about to start looking for his clothes so he could get dressed when she finally spoke.
"Did you mean it?" she asked. "Do you really love me, or do you just want to be a part of Jayden's life? It's okay if you do, Dane. I won't keep you from him. I just don't want you to feel like you can't have one without the other."
Dane felt his heart unclench, and he exhaled in a long, controlled breath. He padded over to the bed and got in beside her, turning her so she had no choice but to face him, and her fears, head on.
"I meant every word. I've always loved you. I want to be part of Jayden's life too. But I want you both."
"It's not going to be easy on you. Jayden's not going to understand why you left. Why you stayed away. It'll be hard on him at first to have so much of your attention. He hasn't had any male influences in his life except for my dad."
"We'll take things slow, baby. All of us. And I'm sure once Jayden meets my brothers he'll get more male influence than you can imagine."
Charlie groaned and laughed at the same time. "That's what I'm afraid of."
He brushed a stray strand of hair back from her face and kissed her softly. "I want to give Jayden my name," he said. "I want to give you my name. Marry me, Charlotte."
"Wow, that's not exactly taking it slow," she said nervously.
"We'll have a long engagement. Let Jayden get used to having me and my brothers around."
She was quiet for so long that panic began to settle in his chest. Maybe he'd pushed things too far. When she pushed her hands against his chest, he scooted away, trying to give her some room. But when he turned to his back, he was surprised to see her follow him over. She straddled his thighs and propped her arms on his chest. He felt his cock stir against the damp heat of her pussy and groaned. He was going to be sore if things kept up as they had.
Charlotte took his face between her hands and kissed him. Her tongue licked along the seam of his mouth until he opened for her and she slipped her tongue inside. It was sweet and full of promise. Full of the future.
"I'll marry you, Dane MacKenzie. I never stopped loving you, and I'll keep on loving you. Forever."
A laugh of pure joy rumbled in Dane's throat and he flipped Charlotte to her back, entering her completely in one stroke. He rocked them both to completion and then kissed the tears of happiness from her eyes.
"You're my heart," he whispered as he moved so they lay on their sides, still intimately joined, and he covered them with a sheet. "Forever, Charlotte."
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Here’s an excerpt of THOMAS, a new MacKenzie Brothers story by Liliana Hart.
Cat Randolph was a thief. A damned good one.
Her marks—a Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Bixby—were out for the evening, which was why she’d picked tonight to divest them of an artifact worth several million dollars. The Mayan mask was made of solid gold, and the percentage she got from this acquisition would add a very nice chunk of change to her retirement nest egg.
The darkness surrounded her as she used the shadows to reach the Bixby’s Hollywood Hills mansion. The pack on her back was light and unobtrusive, and the black spandex jumpsuit she wore clung to her body and allowed her movements to be fluid. A stocking cap covered her flame colored hair and thin black gloves protected her hands.
One of the streetlights in front of the palm-tree-lined, stone fence that enclosed the mansion had mysteriously gone out—
careless of the security team if you asked her
—and she counted the seconds off in her head as she made one last scan of the street. She was all alone. Perfect.
She climbed up a fat tree with the skill of a monkey and crawled out to the end of a sturdy branch. Timing was everything. If she landed on the other side of the massive stone fence at the wrong moment, she’d trip the infrared sensors and set off the alarms. She looked at her watch and set her timer. She knew every quirk of the Bixby’s alarm system. She’d made it her business to know.
The seconds ticked off in her head, and with a quick prayer, she leaped soundlessly to the ground below, landing in a crouch. She didn’t have time to waste. The sensors that scanned the ground never came close to the trees. It was a weakness she’d noticed immediately when she’d studied the schematics of the system.
She sprinted from one tree to the next, keeping to the shadows, until she was pressed against the side of the house. Her breathing was steady and her pulse was only slightly elevated because of the adrenaline rush breaking and entering gave her. The large, stained glass window the Bixby’s had installed in their bathroom was the only one in the house that wasn’t wired for security. Mrs. Bixby hadn’t wanted to ruin the design.
Cat took duct tape out of her bag and taped a square large enough for her body to squeeze through in the middle of the window. She grabbed the glass cutter and had the piece removed and set aside in less than two minutes.
The bathroom was dark, but her eyes adjusted quickly. She peaked into the empty hallway, listening for the creaks of floorboards or the tap of shoes. The house was silent as she followed the blueprints in her mind and crept down a long corridor toward the art gallery. She had seven minutes until the guards on duty made their rotation. Seven minutes to get in and get out.
The small electronic device in her pocket would take care of the cameras and put them on a constant loop. Getting past the infrared beams sweeping the floor would be the tricky part.
Her thumb rested on the timer of her watch and she counted the seconds in her head. She started her watch, cut off the cameras, and began the dance and sway across the floor of the gallery, avoiding the sweeping beams of red. She didn’t stop to admire the mask when she had it in her hands, but instead tucked it into her bag and made her way back out the way she’d come.
She didn’t hit the stop button on her watch until she was safely back outside the bathroom window.
. She’d heard the heavy footsteps of one of the guards just as she’d closed herself back in the bathroom. He was two minutes early.
. Cat sprinted towards the copse of trees at the perimeter of the property just as the alarms sounded.
Floodlights blinded her, and masculine shouts to stop drowned out the blood rushing in her ears. Gunshots had her ducking instinctively as she found the darkened street light. She scrambled up a tree and over the fence the same way she’d entered, and she was just about to drop to the ground below when another shot rang out.
Pain tore through her thigh, and she lost her balance, toppling the twelve feet to the street below. Cat ignored the twisted ankle caused from her fall and the blood soaking her clothes. Adrenaline surged through her veins, and she knew if she didn’t start moving then she was as good as dead. She pushed herself up and forced one foot in front of the other, keeping to the shadows until she reached the car she’d stashed two streets away.
Her body was slicked with sweat and her hands trembled with exhaustion as she slipped behind the driver’s seat. She pulled the cap from her head, letting her hair tumble free around her shoulders, and she grabbed a light jacket from the backseat of the black Audi and used her knife to slit it down the middle. The wound bled freely, and she tied the jacket around it tightly, hoping it would slow the bleeding.
Cat forced her hands to steady and turned the key in the ignition, making her way to a more populated area of town at a sedate pace and merging with the traffic. She had to get to the Montana-Canada border in the next two days. Her contact would be waiting for her there, and she could get rid of her treasure and collect her paycheck. She just had to make sure she didn’t pass out along the way.
Two Days Later…
If Thomas MacKenzie hadn’t witnessed the event with his own eyes, he never would have believed it.
He and his brothers had been working on the fence at the front of the MacKenzie property all morning long, repairing loose boards and scraping the peeling white paint. It was a hell of a job since the fence covered more than two acres of the land. The October afternoon was nice and cool, but he’d still worked up a generous sweat. He wiped his brow with the shirt he’d discarded hours before and took a slug of water from the bottle at his feet.