Chapter 3

"Well. Somebody got laid last night."

Macie glanced up from the sink behind the bar to find her friends Amanda and Brandi staring at her. She gave them a quizzical look. "What?"

"You've got that just been fucked glow about you," Amanda said.

Macie gave them a playful shrug, but didn't bother to wipe the shit-eating grin off her face. "A lady never tells."

"You're no lady," Brandi said. "Give us the goods."

"Goods on what?" her dad asked, coming up to stand behind her friends.

Macie rolled her eyes. "What is it with you? Bionic hearing? I've spent my whole life trying to figure out how you know exactly when to appear in hopes of getting a bit of gossip."

Dad held his hands palm up in a cocky manner. "What can I say? It's a talent. Actually, I just listen for key words and phrases. So what goods are you giving us?"

There was no way in hell Macie was discussing her sex life with her father. "There is no gossip to be had. I was just discussing my plans for their wedding ceremony."

Amanda and Brandi had asked Macie to officiate their wedding, and while that particular goal hadn't been on Macie's bucket list prior to the request, it sure as hell was after. She'd filled out the appropriate paperwork and been approved by the judge, who was her uncle, so it wasn't like that was a tough hurdle, to become a one-time-only officiate.

And ever since then, she'd been struggling to find the right words to say as she worked on writing the ceremony.

But that was a problem for another day. The wedding was still a couple months away. Today, she was too wrapped up in the lust that lingered from last night's unexpected adventure with Hank.

After he'd rocked her world in his kitchen, he'd led her to his bedroom. She thought he was going to give in to her request to fuck her, but the bastard had other plans. Instead, he had tied her hands to his headboard—holy mother of the god of hotness—and made her come again. That time with his mouth.

Then he'd untied her, tucked her close, and gone to sleep. No amount of prodding on her part could convince him to fuck her. And when she started to slip beneath the sheets, intent on giving him some of the pleasure he'd shown her, he had grabbed a fistful of her hair and threatened to spank her if she kept trying to change his mind.

Between the slight burning in her scalp and the dangerously erotic tone that told him he was dead serious about the spanking, Macie had almost come again.

It was madness. Bliss. Heaven.

Then this morning, he'd driven her back to her apartment and said goodbye with a kiss that nearly blew the top of her head off.

And that was it.

He'd said nothing about when—or if—he'd see her again. Not that she had any reason to believe they wouldn't have a second date. At least, she hoped they would. Hoped she hadn't done anything to bring him to his senses or change his mind.

Sometimes it was hard for her to judge though. After all, in typical fashion, she'd let her mouth run away with her, so who knew what Hank thought. Maybe he'd been glad to be rid of her.

Her dad scoffed at her lie. "The wedding? Chick stuff. Boring. Moving on." He walked away without another word.

Her friends laughed and shook their heads. "There's something seriously wrong with your dad," Amanda joked.

"Tell me about it."

"So enough stalling. Kiss and tell," Brandi insisted.

"Kiss and tell about what?" Macie's sister, Adele, filled the spot just vacated by their father.

Macie rubbed her temple and feigned a headache. "I'm going to find a new job. In a new town. Where no one I'm related to lives."

Adele dismissed that threat for the bullshit it was, not willing to be distracted from the matter at hand. "Who'd you kiss?"

Mercifully, Adele wasn't known for being overly observant, which meant her sister probably hadn't even realized Macie left the same time as Hank.

And while she had never been one for secrets—not with her friends, her cousins, or her sister—for some weird reason, she wanted her night with Hank to just be hers. It felt too new, too special to share.

"No one. The girls are seeing things that aren't there."

Adele looked like she wanted to press, but Oakley called out her name, asking if she'd refill his soda. Her sister moved on begrudgingly.

Which left four inquisitive eyes pointed in her direction.

"You're not fooling anyone," Amanda said. Clearly Macie's mum's-the-word attitude was only sparking her friends' interest more. "Are we going to have to resort to guessing?"

"You could guess all day and come up empty. There's nothing to tell. I have work to do," Macie said, still hedging. She walked to the opposite end of the counter, refilling a couple of nearly full water glasses for her new cousin-by-marriage, Chas, and his Uncle Julian.

"Hey, guys. Do you need anything else?" she asked, quickly striking up a conversation about the weather and their latest construction job so Amanda and Brandi couldn't keep up their third degree. She didn't expect her friends to give up, but she was hoping to buy enough time to figure out a story they would accept.

If she'd had a brain in her head, she would have worked a little harder at hiding her happiness. Amanda and Brandi hadn't been the first two people to remark that she'd been wearing a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin all day. It was just her luck two of her best friends would show up near the end of her shift and call her out. Another hour and she could have escaped back to her apartment with no one being any the wiser.

She'd spent the entire day replaying each minute of her night with Hank, and now she was in a state of near-painful horniness. She had every intention of spending a little one-on-one time with her vibrator the second she got home.

"We're good." Julian reached for his wallet, digging out money for the bill. She was distracted from counting out their change when the bell above the restaurant door rang.

Macie had looked up every single time a new person walked in today. And given they always did a good business, she'd lost count when she hit the hundreds. This time, she was rewarded for her persistence.

Hank walked over to the counter, his gaze locked on hers, and claimed his usual stool.

"Hey, Hank," she called out, trying to sound casual and hoping the sudden heat she felt in her face wasn't showing up as a blush. When she saw several heads pop up curiously, she realized her mistake. "Er, Coop."

She hastily poured a beer and carried it over to him.

He took the beer, and then gripped her wrist to stop her from moving away. "You had it right the first time."

She'd had a million conversations with Hank Cooper in the past year, and not once had his voice had the effect on her that it did at that moment. Her pussy clenched, her nipples tightened, and she could swear some hormone-driven electrical current had her skin humming, vibrating. Lightning could have struck her smack on the head and had less effect than Hank's voice.

She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "People noticed. I thought maybe you wouldn't want?—"

"Told you last night what I wanted. That hasn't changed. Call me Hank."

"All I'm saying is this place is full of busybodies—my dad at the top of that pile—and it was just one date."

Hank scowled.

She clearly wasn't saying this well. "You know how folks are around here, drooling for any little scrap of gossip. Every single time I've gone out with a guy, I've been subjected to a third degree. You don't want to have to endure that, trust me."

His expression darkened and her nerves kicked in. Which meant she just kept talking, digging the hole deeper.

"I just don't fancy everybody nosing around in my sex life."

"Your sex life," he repeated in a tone she couldn't even begin to read.

So she shrugged, wishing she were capable of keeping her stupid mouth shut sometimes. She could feel more than a few people looking at them. Probably because Hank still had an ironclad grip on her wrist and they were talking in hushed tones. Behavior like that indicated a good story, and too many of the jackasses in here salivated for gossip. "Um, yeah?"

"And how is your sex life?"

She wasn't sure if he meant overall or just in the past twenty-four hours. Because those were two completely different beasts. "Well…I guess it's…I mean…"

"You want to play games, Whiskey? Or you want to shoot straight?"

She wasn't exactly pleased to admit that when it came to guys and dating, she was an expert player. "I usually play games."

"And how's that working out for you?"

She blew out a frustrated breath. "I'm thirty-one and still single, so…" She rolled her eyes, letting her expression fill in the rest.

For the first time since he'd sat down, his expression lightened. Hell, for Hank, he almost looked happy. "I'm not interested in playing games, so I'll just come out and say it. As far as I'm concerned, you became my girlfriend the second you had that sexy-as-hell orgasm in my kitchen last night."

Chas and his uncle, who were still waiting for their change and standing right there, glanced over at Hank's comments. Macie could see their raised eyebrows with her peripheral vision. Her cousins were going to blow up her phone tonight.

If Hank noticed, he didn't give any indication as he kept talking. "We're going to keep dating, Macie. And the end goal for me is getting my ring on your finger."

Macie's mouth fell open as she fought to get air into her lungs. She tugged her hand loose, took a couple steps back, and let the counter behind her hold her up. She felt numb and light-headed and…well, still horny as fuck.

"Couldn't help but overhear." Her dad pushed Chas to the side and claimed the vacant stool next to Hank.

"Bad timing. Go away," Macie whispered, her eyes still locked on Hank's. To his credit, Hank didn't seem to give a shit that her dad had been eavesdropping. God only knew when her father started listening in. Knowing him, he'd honed in on every word they'd said since Macie showed her hand and called Coop "Hank." Jesus. That was only completely mortifying.

"I will, Mace. In a minute." Dad turned to Hank, who released her gaze and faced her father.

"TJ," Hank said. "I'm dating your daughter." Hank never minced words. Macie loved that about him. She also hated it.

"Yeah. I got that part. When did that start?"

Knowing her dad, he was probably more pissed that he'd missed the news than the fact the two of them had gone out. After all, the man had been trying to set her up in hopes of seeing her married for years. Kept talking about wanting grandkids.

"Last night."

Dad nodded, pleased. Now, instead of being the last to know, he was the first. And he knew it.

"You haven't done much dating since Sharon passed."

"Haven't dated anybody since then," Hank corrected.

Her father knew that too. Everyone in town did.

"Yeah. And you thought you'd jump back in with Macie? Gotta admit, I admire your gumption."

Macie crossed her arms. "Seriously, Dad? Just once in a while could you try not to embarrass me?"

"Not a drop of fun in that. So, you're gonna keep dating her?"

"I am. You okay with that?"

Her temper piqued. "My dad doesn't get a say in this, Coop."

"Hank," he corrected.

She threw her hands up. "I'm going to kill both of you."

"You're a bit older than her," Dad pointed out.

Hank nodded. "Eleven years by my count. Does that matter?"

Dad shook his head. "Nope. Not at all."

Several people nearby chuckled, enlightening her to the fact they'd drawn quite an audience.

"This is ridiculous," she said, leaning closer and trying to clue them in with her hushed whispers that every idiot in the place was listening. "What's next? A barter? Discussion of dowries? You gonna give him two chickens and a cow to make me his wife, Dad?"

Her father laughed loudly. "Would you be alright with just the two chickens?"

Hank grinned, but didn't pile on. At least he seemed to notice her current state of annoyance and was taking heed. Smart on his part.

"TJ—" he started.

Dad raised his hand, letting Hank off the hook. "I'm okay with you two dating, Coop. Not that my daughter needs my seal of approval. She's got an independent streak a mile wide and a mind of her own. Knowing her, my endorsement just screwed your chances. But, even so…"

They both fell silent, and Macie was struck by the feeling that there was some sort of unspoken conversation happening between her dad and her new…

Oh, what the hell…boyfriend.

"What's going on?" she asked, leaning closer. "Some sort of telepathy. Are you speaking to each other in Morse code by blinking your eyes or something? Is this what they teach the boys when they separate them from the girls in middle school gym class? Because all I got out of that was a lecture on what happens when you get your period."

Dad stood, slapping Hank on the back, as he looked at Macie. "About time you started dating someone with a bit of substance."

"Hey," Bruce Millhouse called out from three stools away. "I took Macie out back in October."

"We had a date last summer," Frank Tucker added.

"Like I said," Dad announced to the other men, the two who had spoken and the three others Macie counted in the room who'd taken her out on dates, "a man of substance."

"That hurts, TJ," Bruce said, though he didn't appear very put out.

Dad chuckled as he walked back to his usual table, clearly analyzing everything that had just happened with his cronies.

Macie looked at Hank. "At exactly what point did I lose control of things?"

He gave her a full-fledged smile. "The second I walked in. What time you get off?"

She glanced at her watch. "Forty-five minutes."

He nodded. "I'll wait."

Macie considered playing coy and asking him what he was waiting for, just for shits and giggles, but he'd just laid a hell of a lot of stuff on the line.

They needed to talk.

And fuck. They really needed to fuck.

"Okay."

He seemed surprised by her easy acquiescence. "No questions? No comments or complaints?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

For a moment, she thought he actually appeared disappointed.

"You want me to ask you a bunch of questions?"

He shrugged. "Might make the time pass quicker."

She laughed. "Drink your damn beer."

The time passed faster than Macie would have expected, given how badly she wanted to get out of the place. However, between pouring drinks, dealing with Amanda and Brandi's curiosity about this sudden relationship, and the sexual innuendoes Hank kept lobbing her way, she didn't have two seconds to worry about the time.

Hank, on the other hand, must have been counting the seconds. The moment the clock struck quitting time, he was up and waiting for her at the end of the counter. She handed the reins over to her sister, said goodbye to her friends and her dad, and held Hank's hand as they walked out together.

Now, like last night, he led her straight toward his vehicle.

"Another date?" she teased.

"You gonna start going on about how you need to shave your legs again?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm a quick study. Took care of everything I needed to this morning."

"Good girl."

Hank pulled her closer once they were standing next to his truck and gave her a hard, hot kiss that told her she wasn't the only one suffering and ready to ring the bell on round two.

"I want you to spend the night at my place again," he said as he released her.

She nodded. "Okay."

"Need to get anything from your apartment beforehand?"

Given her experience from the previous night, she knew she wouldn't need pajamas, she already had a toothbrush to use—he'd had a new one under the bathroom sink—and she liked the smell of his shampoo in her hair.

"No. I think I'm okay."

He waited a second before asking, "What do you do for birth control?"

Macie wasn't a blusher normally. It just wasn't something she'd ever suffered from. Probably because she was usually the most frank person in any conversation. Which was saying something, considering her dad had made embarrassing her an art form throughout her life.

But when she was with Hank, she could feel the flames licking her cheeks far too often.

"I think I'm going to make you a list of subjects that are too personal to?—"

"Whiskey, the second I get you in my house, you're taking off those clothes and I'm taking you to my bed," he interjected. "What you use for birth control is my business."

"Thought the reason we couldn't have sex last night was because you were giving me time to think."

"You getting in this truck?"

She nodded, and only just barely restrained from adding a loud "hell yeah."

"Then you've had enough time to think."

Macie laughed. "Jesus, Hank. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours. Take it easy with the generosity."

He blew out a long breath. "It feels like a hell of a lot longer to me."

She wasn't sure how he did that, how he made her feel so special, so desirable, and damn if it wasn't working on her. Stealing pieces of her heart while making her so fucking horny, she thought she'd explode. Rather than admit that, she said, "I get the birth control shot. I'm up-to-date."

Hank helped her into the truck without another word. In fact, he didn't speak at all until he'd started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb. Even then, all he said was, "Good."

Fine, Macie decided. If this conversation didn't bother him, she sure as shit wasn't going to let it bother her. "So…you're not going to use a condom?"

He glanced over at her briefly. "I will if you want me to. Otherwise, I'm clean. Only been with one woman in the past twenty years, and the last time she and I had sex was two years ago."

She gave him a mischievous grin. "So what you're really saying is our first time isn't going to last long."

He chuckled. "No, angel. What I'm saying is if you want me to use a condom, you gotta say so now because we'll have to make a stop at the drugstore."

"Oh." Macie had never had sex with a guy who didn't wear one. She started to say that, but what came out was, "Don't stop. It's fine."

He smiled. Then he winked at her. "And, Whiskey?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry about my staying power. Once I finally get inside you, I'm not going be in a hurry to leave again."

She twisted to face him as much as her seat belt would allow. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"So…Bruce and Frank?"

Macie laughed. "God. Don't remind me. Let's just say you're doing better than both of them. Never went on a second date with either."

"So neither one of them was the last lover, huh?"

She tilted her head and studied his face. "No."

Though he didn't take his eyes from the road, it was obvious he felt the heat of her stare when he asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Trying to decide if that question was based on curiosity or jealousy."

"Both," he admitted readily. "Don't tell me who. I don't want to know. Might have to kill the man."

Macie bit her lip and considered telling him anyway. In truth, it felt like something he should know. But part of her was worried. How would he react when he found out? Would it change things between them? This thing between them was so freaking new, she couldn't quite wrap her head around it.

"Maybe you should let me tell you," she said at last.

He narrowed his eyes; her tone had obviously told him he might not like what she was going to say. "Wait 'til we get to my place."

"If I tell you now, you can turn around and head back to my apartment if you want."

"There's not a single name you could say that would change my mind about taking you to my bed."

She hoped that was true. "Okay." She decided to let it go until later. And then, because it was her, she picked up a new subject, telling Hank about the new kitten her cousin Jeannette had just adopted. Jeannette was in serious danger of becoming a cat lady.

Once Hank parked and turned the engine off, she reached for the door handle. Hank reached over and grasped her wrist gently. "Wait there."

He didn't give her a chance to ask why before he climbed out of the truck. When he walked around and opened her door for her, she understood.

"Very chivalrous," she teased when he helped her down.

"Not at all. Just the way a man should treat his lady. I'm always going to open doors for you."

"It's only our second date, Hank, and you're already talking marriage and calling me yours."

"We've been friends for a while now, Macie. It's not like we're strangers. I know you and you know me. Only thing that's changing is the kissing and where you're going to be spending most of your nights."

"Wow. I think you do know me."

"What do you mean?"

"You keep throwing all this twisted logic at my feet, which speaks to my own warped view of the world and makes it really hard for me to argue with you."

He chuckled. "You want a fight?"

"Not really, but…" Again, she was a bit worried about the last-lover thing that was hovering over their heads.

Hank sighed. "Come on." He took her hand and led her to the house. "Sooner you speak your piece, the sooner I can get you naked."

She laughed despite her nervousness. Then she realized it wasn't just talking about the past that had her worried. It was crawling into bed with Hank. Her head had nearly blown off after each of those amazing orgasms last night, and that was with just his fingers and mouth.

There was something about the way he took control, in bed and out, that turned her on in ways she couldn't explain. Truth was she wasn't a fan of domineering men. But Hank seemed to be the exception to that rule.

Maybe it was because he wasn't demanding things she didn't want to give him. And maybe it was because she knew, deep down, if she said no, he would stop without question. She trusted him. Completely.

Once they entered the house, he closed the front door and turned to face her. "So out with it. Give me the name."

Macie took a deep breath and just said it. "Porter."

Hank's brows furrowed. "My ranch manager?"

She nodded.

"When?"

"It was shortly after Johnnie died." She had talked to Hank about her close friendship with Harley Mills' brother quite a lot over the past year. Hank had known who Johnnie was. After all, Maris was a small town. But he admitted he hadn't really paid much attention at the time to Johnnie's death or the funeral. Mainly because Sharon had been dying around the same time. It was something they had in common, one of the things that had drawn them closer and helped forge their new friendship these last few months. They'd both suffered a painful loss recently.

"Didn't know you and Porter knew each other that well." His expression and his tone were wooden. Completely unreadable. Was he angry? Hurt?

"The truth is we didn't, really…" She paused. She probably wouldn't come out of this sounding too good.

"Just tell me what happened, Macie."

"I was in charge of closing up the restaurant one night. It was a weeknight and business had been slow. I was in no hurry to go home and cry myself to sleep over Johnnie, so I told my cousin Paige to take off early. Porter was the only one still there, drinking alone at the bar. I locked the door, poured myself a shot of bourbon and the two of us drank together. He was upset about…" She hesitated again.

"Sharon."

Macie nodded. "Sounded like he was close to her."

"He was," Hank confirmed.

"We both got tipsy. No," she amended. "We got drunk. One thing led to another and he walked me back to my apartment. Guess you can figure out the rest."

"Just that one time?"

"Yeah. We sort of needed somebody that night, but I swear, Hank, that's all it was. I mean, he's a nice guy and he was really sweet, but we were both in a bad place at the time. I haven't been pining for him or anything."

"I'm glad he was there for you."

Well, that sure as hell wasn't the response she'd expected. "What?"

"And I'm happy you were there for him. He needed you that night."

And there went another little bit of her heart. The man was laying claim to all of it. Hard and fast. "Hank?"

"Yeah, Whiskey?"

"Can we go to your bedroom now?"

Rather than respond with words, Hank cupped her cheeks and kissed her, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth. When he pulled away, he captured her gaze with his. "I want you, Macie Sparks. More than I've wanted anyone in a long time."

Grasping her hand, he led her to his bedroom. He closed the door and leaned against it. "Take off your clothes."

She shook her head. "I'm not taking off a stitch until you do. Last night, you kept on way too many clothes."

Hank unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it over his shoulders, dropping it to the floor.

Macie took a minute to admire the view. The previous evening, Hank had slipped to the bathroom after he'd untied her and returned in a T-shirt and lounge pants that he'd slept in all night.

Hank was older than her by just over a decade, but she liked the way he carried his years. As a rancher, he spent a lot of time outside, which meant his skin was naturally dark year-round. He wasn't a stranger to physical labor either. And rather than a smooth, bare chest, he had a fair amount of hair, mostly brown, but with just a few strands of gray.

"You okay, Macie?"

She nodded, her eyes remaining on his chest. She was going to enjoy petting him.

"You sure?"

His persistence had her looking up. "Yeah. Why?"

"You're not usually this quiet."

Macie grinned. "Just enjoying the view."

He gestured to her shirt. "How about giving me a chance to do the same?"

She'd been naked in front of him last night. His genuine appreciation of her body made it easy for her to tug off her own top. Then, without a moment's hesitation, she reached behind her back, unhooked her bra, and stripped it off as well.

Maybe if she distracted him with her tits, she could buy herself a little more time to admire him.

That plan failed. Hank was a doer, not an observer.

"Add the pants and panties to that pile while you're on a roll."

She unfastened her jeans. Slipping off her shoes, she slid everything down in one fell swoop and stepped out of it.

"Now you." She was no stranger to making her own demands.

Problem was, unlike her past lovers, Hank wasn't so easy to boss around. And he was never in a hurry. Which was only partly annoying because he sure as fuck knew how to pass the time.

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"Hank." She started to walk toward him, intent on helping him speed things along, but he lifted his hand.

"Stop right there."

Speaking of annoying things…

Hank gave her a command—a fucking command—in that tone of voice, and her body responded before her brain had a chance to give him the what-for.

"Get on the bed, Whiskey. Lay down on your back, open your legs, and let me look at you."

Well, that seemed like a way to get things moving. She turned, taking in his room as she walked to his bed. It was a sturdy, four-poster king bed that matched the house. What gave her pause was the elegant red-silk bedding, the abundance of soft throw pillows, the rich beauty of it all.

It didn't fit Hank. It fit…

"Dammit," Hank muttered.

"It's okay," she said, aware her tone was too wooden for believability.

"I didn't think, Macie."

"Her sheets?"

"Sharon spent a lot of her last year in bed. She liked pretty things. Soft things."

"I see." She did. She saw it all. And she hated it.

Then she hated herself for feeling that petty, that stupid.

He stepped behind her, his hands resting on her waist loosely. While they both knew he could nudge her forward and put her wherever he wanted in that sexy-as-sin, domineering way of his, he simply held her. Gave her time to come to grips with something that hadn't bothered her until that moment.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded, feeling ridiculous for her sudden, uncontrollable jealousy of a dead woman and touched by the sincerity of his words. He had loved his wife. God, part of her undeniable attraction to him was the fact he had been a wholly devoted, loving husband.

Macie twisted to face him.

Hank gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I should have changed the sheets."

"I'm being silly, I know that."

"No. You're not. Not at all. If you'll give me just a second…"

It was clear he was ready to strip the bed, get rid of all reminders of Sharon.

Macie held up her hand to stop him. "Don't. I'm okay now."

He studied her face closely, clearly checking for some sign she was lying.

"I'm serious." She was.

Hank nodded slowly. "Will it piss you off to know I sort of like that it bothered you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You like that?"

He grinned and tightened his grip on her waist. "Means you're starting to care about me enough to be jealous. Now you know how I feel about Porter."

"You didn't act jealous when I told you. You said you were glad I was there for him."

"I am glad about that. But it's rare to feel just one way about something when it involves a person you care about. The understanding part of me spoke out loud, reassured you it was okay. Because it is. The jealous part of me kept quiet while plotting out all the ways I could make Porter pay for sleeping with you first."

She winced. "Poor Porter."

He winked, but didn't take back the threat.

She bit her lower lip and confessed the rest. "I'm starting to hate Sharon because she had you for twenty years, because you loved her so much. That's weird. And wrong, I know it."

"We're only human, Macie. Neither one of us is bad people for feeling the way we do."

She rose up on tiptoe to kiss him. Hank got her. After a lifetime of having most folks look at her like she was a lunatic, it was refreshing and exciting to have someone look inside her slightly twisted brain and make sense of it. More than that, he wasn't turned off by it.

"You going to get on that bed?"

He was still giving her the choice, but this time the clever man laced his tone with a dare. Which was like waving a red flag in front of a raging bull.

She stepped out of his arms and backed toward the bed. Once the back of her thighs hit the mattress, she sank down. Any issues she had with the silk comforter vanished the second her ass hit it. It really was soft. And sexy.

A girl could get used to this kind of indulgence. Beat the hell out of her cotton bed-in-a-bag set that she bought on sale at Walmart.

Hank remained where she left him, his gaze traveling down her body and back again.

"Like what you see?" she asked as she sat on the edge.

"I will. Once you do what I told you to."

She had hoped he would forget that last part. While Macie wasn't lacking in self-confidence, she wasn't experienced enough to feel comfortable putting it all out there for inspection.

"Hank—" she started.

He took the steps necessary to reach her, his strong hands gripping her ankles and tugging her legs apart. The element of surprise worked in his favor, because she was wide open with Hank kneeling between her legs before she even realized his intent.

"God, you move fast."

His eyes flashed to her face briefly before returning to her pussy. "Told you in the truck. My patience is running out."

That was all the explanation he offered as he leaned closer and ran his tongue along her opening.

Macie dropped to her back with a groan. "Holy shit."

Most guys acted like going down on a woman was a chore. Hank didn't seem to begrudge the task. He actually seemed to enjoy it.

With his fingers and tongue, he had her gasping for air and pleading for sex in no time at all. "Please, Hank."

She gripped his dark brown hair, loving the thickness of it, the way there was enough to tug. There were just a few strands of gray at the temples that she found completely adorable for some reason.

She intended to use her grip on his hair to her advantage, pulling it in hopes that he'd follow her direction. Macie wanted him on top of her, inside her.

He didn't move. She had to be hurting him.

"Stubborn man," she said, when he continued to play with her—torment her—just enough to keep her on the edge without letting her go over. "Goddammit, Hank! I mean it. Either you fuck me now or…"

He lifted his head. "Or?"

She hadn't thought the threat through very well. Her initial intention had been to threaten to leave, but wild horses weren't dragging her out of this bed until she'd gotten what she wanted, so that seemed like a stupid thing to say.

"Or…" She couldn't come up with a single thing that would hurt him without taking her down as well. And she wasn't foolish enough to risk her own pleasure.

She lifted one shoulder and gave him a sheepish grin. "Please?" she tried, losing the haughtiness in her tone.

Hank rose, but didn't move to take off his jeans. Instead, he held her gaze, letting her squirm uncomfortably. She felt a bit like a naughty child about to be punished for stealing a cookie.

"I'm going to assume you trust me, Macie, because it would be damn reckless of you to go to bed with a man you didn't."

She didn't have a clue where he was going with that, so she simply agreed since it was true. "I trust you."

"I'm not one of those young bucks you're probably used to. The type of man who'll let you run roughshod over him just because he's smitten and wants in your pants."

Macie didn't bother to admit he'd done a fairly good job describing her past lovers. But that wasn't really the point of this conversation and she knew it. She sat up slowly, drawing her legs closed, despite the scowl it produced on his face. "What kind of man are you?"

"You want me to tell you? Or show you?"

Wow. That was a loaded question. Either he could warn her what she was in for, and then do it. Or he could just do it.

There was no denying whatever he said was going to happen. The only difference was she'd be forewarned. What she couldn't decide was if there was more danger in knowing what was coming or worrying about what was on the way?

What the hell? Macie loved a good surprise, and given Hank's talented way of making her forget her own name when he touched her, it wouldn't matter if she knew or not. She wouldn't have time to fret about it.

She spread her legs apart once more. "Do your worst." She was a pretty fair hand at dares herself.

Or so she'd thought.

Hank reached for her arm and turned her with ease. One second she was on her back, facing him. The next she was facedown on the mattress with Hank leaning over her, his chest on her back, pressing her down tightly.

"I'm not an easy lover, Macie." As he spoke, she felt his hands unbuckling his belt and pulling the leather from the loops. It slid slowly against the skin of her ass. He wanted her to feel it.

She recalled the way he'd tied her to his bed the previous night. If she hadn't been horny as hell and obsessed with changing his mind about fucking her, that might have clued her in to what he liked earlier.

"So…" She forced herself to say the words. "I'm guessing bondage would be included." Though she wasn't tied up at the minute, there was no escaping the overwhelming sense of being held captive. She was pinned to the bed and would remain there until he moved.

"Yes."

Then he placed the belt on the mattress next to her, eye level with where her head rested. "You want to hit me with that?"

"Yes."

She wasn't so innocent that his affirmation shocked her. Much. She recalled her night with Porter. He'd taken her from behind, and he'd spanked her ass a few times as he fucked her. It had made the whole experience hotter, more thrilling. It had hurt in a very good way, and she'd actually asked him to keep going after the first two spanks.

"That would hurt."

"Probably."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "What if I said no, said I didn't want that?"

His face, which had been way too intense, softened. "I'd put the belt away and you'd never see it again. But, Macie, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't hate it. In fact, I think you're going to like it."

"You know, I'm not completely green about all this stuff. I read books. Well, I mean, I read one book. And I watch porn online occasionally. Okay, I've watched a lot of porn. So I know what you're talking about. It's just, I've never really done any of that."

"There's a difference between never and never really."

"Porter spanked me a little bit when…we…um…I'm thinking now would be an excellent time to shut up."

"I see."

Yeah. She was afraid he did. And once again, she worried that her drunken one-night stand with Porter had the potential to ruin what she had no doubt was going to be the greatest relationship of her life before it even started.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I'm not. I'm glad he exposed you to it."

"You are?"

"It's just a different way to have sex, Macie. And we won't do it all the time. A lot of nights, we're going to crawl into this bed and I'm going to make love to you, missionary style."

She considered that. "That sounds kind of boring now that you've offered up the kinky stuff."

He chuckled and kissed the back of her head. "Macie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm done talking now."

She giggled until he stood up. Hank didn't complain when she rolled to her side to watch as he pushed down his jeans and boxers, toed off his shoes.

Hank definitely was not overcompensating for anything with his big truck.

"Big truck, big…" she murmured.

The edges of his mouth tipped up as he ran his hand from the root to the tip of his cock.

"Can I do that?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Later, Whiskey. Right now," he gestured with his hand for her to lie back down, "I want to be inside you."

She opened her legs in invitation and Hank stepped between her knees, leaning over her as he guided his cock to her pussy.

He placed just the head inside before pausing. "You going to be okay with just missionary the first time, kinky girl?" he teased.

It was on the tip of her tongue to continue the joke, to make some comment like "if she had to," but Hank didn't give her the chance to reply.

He slammed in to the hilt with a thrust that pushed her a few inches across the bed. Her hands flew to his shoulders, then wrapped around his neck as she searched for some way to hold on. He took her Vin Diesel style, fast and furious.

"Lock your ankles around my waist," he demanded as he continued to piston inside her.

Macie had never been particularly vocal in bed, which was ironic considering she never shut up anywhere else. This time, remaining quiet wasn't an option. Hank produced a litany of groans, moans, grunts, curses, pleas and—Jesus—even an almost scream as she came so hard, her teeth rattled.

Her inner muscles clenched tightly as stars flashed, blinding her. Throughout her climax, Hank kept fucking her, taking her even harder, if that was possible.

"Can't. Take…"

He withdrew, flipping her to her stomach, plowing back inside. The change meant he was going deeper and stroking new hot spots. Hank reached around her waist with one hand, his fingers rubbing her clit in time with his pounding rhythm.

"Jesus Christ," she gasped, as a trickle of perspiration ran along her cheek. "Holy. Fuck."

She placed her hand on his wrist, intent on tugging his hand away from her clit. Not because she didn't love it, but because it felt almost too good. It was overwhelming, too much stimulation. Macie wasn't used to being out of control, and certainly not to this extreme.

"Move your hand."

She didn't, couldn't. She kept trying to pull his hand away even as he pounded inside her.

"Now, Macie."

She heard the words, knew he was serious, but she was in self-preservation mode. Fight or flight was starting to kick in. It was too fucking much.

Hank shrugged off her grip and then, mercifully, his hand left her clit.

At least, she'd thought it was mercy. Big mistake.

His palm struck her ass. Hard.

It stung and she screamed, tried to pull away. It was impossible.

Hank's cock was still buried deep, one hand gripping her shoulder, using that hold to drag her down on his upswings, adding to the pressure. With the other hand, he spanked her. When that hand got tired, he switched it up, using the right instead of the left to spank her other ass cheek.

Macie's orgasm struck like lightning, her back arching as her entire body shook.

Hank responded this time, his own climax following hers. He slowed his pace, slamming in just three more times as she milked him dry.

She felt the jets of come as they filled her, the sensation novel, different, new. There was no condom there to catch the sticky stuff. Macie liked it.

She fell forward, completely lifeless until Hank slowly withdrew. His departure provoked a shudder and he claimed the spot next to her on the bed. Her head was turned away, but she didn't have the strength to lift it to face him. His hand rested on her sore ass.

Funny how she hadn't registered that pain until now. During the spanking, she'd only wanted more, each hard smack traveling straight to her pussy, making her insane with need.

Macie had no idea how long they lay there. She was pretty certain she'd dozed for a bit. When she finally found the strength, she lifted her head and turned to look at him.

Hank's eyes were open and he caught her gaze. "Okay?"

She nodded. "That was…really intense."

Macie had expected her words to provoke a smile, but this was Hank. Those grins were few and far between. Right now, he looked far too serious. And then she recalled Sharon. Remembered this was his first time with a woman since his wife had passed away.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." The word was right, but she didn't miss the slight hesitation before he spoke it.

She leaned up on her elbow, reaching out to run her hand over his chest. It felt odd to her that despite everything they'd just done, she hadn't had a chance to really touch him. Though it cost her to ask, she knew it would be better to find out now if he had regrets.

"Second thoughts?" she forced herself to ask.

He scowled. "Not a single one."

Those words came quickly, making it easier for her to breathe again. "I just thought maybe…" What was it about Hank that always had her scrambling to find her words? She didn't have this trouble with anyone else in the world. "I know you haven't been with anyone since Sharon, so?—"

"Sharon?" He murmured the name so low she almost didn't hear it. "Shit."

Macie tilted her head. She didn't understand his response. "What?"

"I wasn't thinking about her, Macie. Not at all."

Ah. She got it. Here, she'd been thinking he was feeling guilty for, well, not necessarily cheating on his wife, but for not being faithful to her for the rest of his life. And now poor Hank was feeling bad because he hadn't thought of her at all.

"Sorry," she whispered. She was making a muck of this. Then she recalled his hesitation. "What were you thinking about then? That had you looking so serious?"

Hank sat up slowly, drawing her up as well. "I was afraid I'd hurt you."

She shook her head. "You didn't."

He raised his hand. "Wait. I didn't finish. I was afraid I'd hurt you, but I knew I couldn't apologize for it and I couldn't promise not to do it again. Because I want to do all of that to you again. That and even more. I'm not sure, I've never felt…"

She'd made Hank feel something new? It was like she'd won the lottery.

"Hank," she said, reaching for his hand. "I don't want you to say you're sorry. And I sure as hell don't want that damn promise."

He leaned forward and kissed her. It was a soft touch, sweet, romantic. Beautiful.

"Shower or sleep?" he asked when they parted.

"Does the shower come with you?"

Hank placed a playful kiss on the end of her nose as Macie struggled to keep up with him. He could shift from intense to sweet to silly in the blink of an eye. She loved it.

"Don't think you should plan on showering alone in this house very often."

"Come on." She shifted toward the end of the bed somewhat gingerly. Man, what a workout.

Hank noticed her discomfiture. "Change of plans. We're soaking in a hot bath together."

She sighed sleepily, not bothering to hide her grin or her outright infatuation with him. At this rate, there wouldn't be any pieces of her heart left that Hank hadn't claimed by morning.