Chapter 6

Letty’s body shook with anticipation as she stared at the broad expanse of Mac’s back. His large frame stood over the printer, rigid and stiff. His waistcoat was stretched obscenely, the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt revealed muscled forearms as he lifted the lever, removing the paper.

“I need to speak to you.” The whispered words were barely audible to Letty.

He had a mien of disapproval on his stoic face. Perhaps he and Richmore had a disagreement? Because the duke had discovered them in a very intimate position the previous evening?

Ignoring the excitement of being in an actual print shop, Letty approached Mac, who was still busying himself at the Stanhope. Without thinking of how forward she was being, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her needy body to his. Her fingers roamed his chest, the smooth texture of his linen shirt barely concealed the muscles hidden underneath.

There was a wanton part of her that wanted to lock the door and remove his clothes. Their secret interlude the previous night had awakened her body again, after months apart. She couldn’t fall asleep without relieving the ache between her thighs.

“Is everything all right?” she asked pressing her cheek to his back.

The silky material of his waistcoat caressed her cheek as his erratic breathing jolted her body slightly.

“I don’t want to hurt you …” His voice was full of so much pain that she could feel it in her bones.

Releasing him, Letty took a step back, finding his comment odd. Mac turned to face her, those cloudy eyes of his now dark storm clouds. His cheek was covered with fresh growth, giving him a more scandalous look than what was acceptable in polite society.

Letty cupped his cheek, and his eyes closed like he was trying to gather some semblance of control over himself. She leaned forward, lifting up on her toes, and while she was tall for a lady, she was still much shorter than him.

Brushing her lips against his, she waited patiently for him to open his eyes.

Gray eyes suddenly pierced her, their depth so endless they stole her breath away. One of his hands slipped around her waist, the other stroked her cheek.

“You won’t hurt me, Mac.” She stroked his cheek, her nose pressing against his. “I trust you,” she whispered, before pressing her lips against his in a slow sensual kiss.

Letty’s tongue teased his bottom lip, his stiff body unmoving, as his hand tightened around her waist. She waited for him to open to her, her hand trailing to the nape of his neck, pulling his dark silky strands.

Mac let out a desperate groan before he dragged her body closer to his, slanting his lips over hers. Letty gave him complete control as he plundered her mouth, her aching limbs sinking into his strong embrace.

The hand at her waist traveled to her backside, squeezing, pulling at the fabric of her pelisse. Letty began unbuttoning his waistcoat, every movement frantic and desperate. She needed the both of them to be free of their constraints.

It didn’t matter that she was being wild and reckless—the only thing of importance to Letty in that moment was being with Mac. Being his and him being hers—in every way.

Mac released her waist, his hand taking hold of hers.

Pressing his forehead to hers, his breath came out in ragged puffs against her kiss swollen lips. “Forgive me, temptress,” Mac said, before placing a chaste kiss to her lips.

Releasing her, he took a large step back like he hadn’t just utterly ravished Letty. She couldn’t stop the shiver of cold that suddenly assaulted her from his distance.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she said.

Wrapping her arms around her waist, she tried to ignore the fear running through her at Mac’s behavior.

Mac busied himself by organizing papers and straightening his cluttered desk. Letty waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. Unbuttoning her pelisse, she removed it, placing it on a chair before she began walking around the small space. It was perfectly imperfect, cluttered with papers and pamphlets. Picking up different ones, she looked down at the descriptive images of enslaved people, her heart aching at such horrors.

This was the type of man Mac Meriweather was, he revealed the truth to the world, made a difference and she admired him for it.

“Letty.”

She walked over to him, taking in his haunted eyes. “Mac, tell me,” she demanded, her nails raking through the growth on his face.

He released a wary sigh, his shoulders hunched with the burden of his thoughts. “I-I …” he stammered, and Letty waited patiently for him to find the words. “I have to close the print shop for good.” He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling his larger body into an embrace. Sorrow filled her for him, and all the people that his paper, The Hard Truth, helped.

People like Letty.

“Oh Mac, no. There has to be something you can do. I can assist you. I’ll have my inheritance at the end of the season?—”

He stepped out of the embrace. “No,” he said emphatically, leaving no room for argument. “I can’t accept your offer. You need to open your magazine and help people without the burden of me.” He took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles. “Perhaps it is simply time to stop fighting.”

Letty shook her head, grabbing him by his waistcoat. “You can’t. Look at all you’ve done for people. Someone must inform the world of the horrors of slavery. Promise me you’ll try to save the print shop, Mac. Even if you won’t accept assistance from me.”

“I promise,” he agreed.

“Good. Now, I believe you agreed to teach me everything you know about printing,” she teased him, enjoying how his shoulders relaxed and a smiled teased at his lips.

She wanted to kiss him again, to get swept away in his embrace and forget about everything else. She wanted to be wild—only for him.

He clapped his hands together. “Yes, let’s get you covered, and you can help me with the remainder of the papers for the rally.”

‘Really?” Letty asked, excitement spreading through her as a smile leapt to her lips.

All she ever wanted was to learn the printing business, and this was finally her chance. Years of spending time reading, researching, and planning ways to start her own magazine as he had done finally would come to fruition.

“Yes, and first we need to begin reading the correspondence from my brother,” he said walking over to the pile of letters sitting on the desk against the wall.

“Your brother Gilbert?” Letty had remembered the names of his two older brothers from their conversations at Crestview.

She was aware that Gilbert had worked with Mac at the print shop for years, but she didn’t know his actual role in the business.

“Yes, he is currently in America. He’s been sending me letters on the conditions of slavery there, and it is simply frightening.”

“America? I wasn’t aware that The Hard Truth had such a reach,” she said, fascinated with the new information.

“We’ve had several connections in the Americas over the years, and Gilbert wanted to report on the horrors there. He will return in a few months, but in the meantime, his reports have been life-changing for the paper.” Mac picked up a letter that laid open on the desk and handed it to Letty.

She had only heard snippets of the conditions of slavery in America. It revealed how ignorant she was to the plight of so many who looked like her. Letty wanted to be of some service, to do something, to make a difference like Mac and his brother.

It wasn’t just learning firsthand the intricate workings of a printing press. It was also about revealing the truth, no matter what.

Taking the letter from his hand, Letty scanned it, reading his brother’s account of conditions on plantations in the South. His next account was from New York, and Letty gasped, looking up at Mac. “Eighty-six freed men and women left America for Sierra Leone. How extraordinary,” Letty said, happy there was some good news from America.

“Yes, that is the news I am reporting in the next issue. Can you imagine wanting to leave the place you were born so badly that you’re willing to flee to an entirely different country?” Mac asked, no sign of his previous distressed mood in sight.

The fact was that Letty couldn’t imagine any of the frightening stories she’d heard. All she’d ever known was privilege.

“How many people do you have reporting conditions around the world?” Letty asked, unable to hide the pure joy radiating through her at learning more about his paper.

“There are people sending me accounts from Jamaica, Barbados, Spain. It is a vast enterprise, so one must have connections all over the world in order to tell the facts.”

A dark shadow covered his tan face, and Letty had a feeling that he was no longer thinking about slavery.

“It sounds wonderful, Mac. Do you ever travel?” Letty asked, imagining what it would be like to actually visit such places and to see terrible things for herself.

A shiver ran through her, and everything she consumed that day threatened to rise. Letty didn’t want to imagine what it would be like to see such dreadful things, so perhaps she was only meant to tell her truth from England.

Her one comfort was knowing that people like Mac existed and gave her hope.

“Soon, you will know exactly what it feels like to have your own magazine and make a difference.” Mac walked over to the wall, taking an apron from the peg.

“Why do you have to close the print shop?” she asked. There had to be something she could do. The world needed papers like The Hard Truth, to keep them informed until every man, woman and child was free everywhere.

“The rent here is astronomical. The profits from the paper are not nearly enough to cover it.” He slipped the apron over her head, his hand trailing down her back to tie the string.

A breathy moan escaped her lips, she was still titillated from their previous kiss. His mouth brushed the corner of hers as he tied the apron in place around her waist.

Her gaze found his. She knew she couldn’t stay too long with him. Her maid and driver would wait for her as long as she would take, but her mother would soon start to question where her youngest daughter had gone.

Once she was sufficiently covered, he stepped away, leaving her cold. If Letty could function wrapped in Mac’s arms, she surely would do it every day.

“If you won’t take my help, perhaps my father cold be of assistance?” she asked tentatively.

Letty didn’t want to offend him; she admired him for not wanting her help. It proved what an honorable man he was, which of course, she already knew.

He shook his head, black hair falling into his eyes. “Letty, no. If I have to take assistance from someone it won’t be you or your father …” he paused briefly, and Letty knew that there was something he wasn’t telling her. “Richmore has offered, but I am not certain I can accept?—”

“Why ever not? If you won’t take assistance from me, then surely one of your friends who fights for the same cause is an excellent option.” Letty stepped closer to him, waiting for an answer.

“I am considering Richmore’s offer to help. Does that please you?” he challenged her, taking her by the hand.

“Yes. I don’t want you to lose your print shop, Mac. You must do whatever it takes to save it.” She squeezed his hand, noticing his stiff posture.

Ignoring her comment, he led her to the Stanhope, where stacks of paper sat on a table beside it. She took in his muscled form as he tied his own apron around his waist.

“I’ve already placed the stereotype matrix and plate in place, so we just need to place the ink. Can you bring the dabbers?” He pointed to the small round balls with a handle.

Letty practically bounced over to them. She had done all the research, but she had never been in an actual print shop before. Now, she was experiencing it all.

“Here you are.” She held out the dabbers to him, but he shook his head, wrapping his hand around her waist and pulling her in front of him.

Bending down, his cool breath teased her ear. “First, we’re going to cover the dabbers in ink.”

Letty nodded, her heart pulsing rapidly. Now she was excited for a completely different reason, and it had nothing to do with printing.

Allowing Mac to lead her, they rolled the dabbers through the ink, ensuring that the round black balls were completely covered. Letty bit her bottom lip, trying to ignore the effect he was having on her body. His lips would occasionally brush the sensitive skin at her neck, his hard body so impeccably close to hers that she felt as if they were one.

Placing the ink on the stereotype matrix together caused his body to rock against hers. The turgid flesh of his manhood pressed against her rear through the material of her clothing.

Letty felt hot all over; her nipples strained against her chemise, and she wanted nothing more than to be free of her dress so she could feel him.

Releasing her hand, Mac wrapped his hand around her throat, pulling her head back before he ravished her mouth in a fierce kiss. Letty couldn’t help the moan that escaped her as his tongue glided against hers in the most wicked way.

The dabber fell to the table, rolling to the ground at her feet, her hands pressing against the ink as she tried to stand upright. Her knees were threatening to buckle underneath her as he devoured her like a man depraved. Certain that they were making a complete mess of things, but she didn’t care.

Wrenching his mouth free from hers like it was the last thing he wanted to do, Mac spun her around, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. She loved when he picked her up, loved when he controlled her. Letty couldn’t get enough of this reckless abandoned side of him.

The inferno in his eyes blazed, and she wanted it to consume her. Letty ghosted her ink cover fingers on his stumbled cheek. “Mac,” she whispered.

“I need you,” he rasped out, before he covered her mouth with his and took her over to his cluttered desk.

He sat Letty down on the desk, her legs opening to make room for his large form.

Letty clung to him as he sat her down on the edge, his desperate hands lifting the skirts of her day dress up. Fingers teased her exposed legs, skimming up to the crook of her knee where her garter was tied.

As he pulled the ribbon loose, Letty’s eyes opened in shock as Mac slowed their kiss.

“I’m keeping this.” He placed the garter in his pocket before dropping down to his knees in front of her.

Was he going to take her? Right here on the desk where anyone could walk in and see them together?

Would she let him?

Yes. She would. And that single thought had her trembling in excitement.

Soft lips kissed the exposed skin of her knee, his tongue slowly circling. She let out a breathy giggle as his hands traveled up her legs to the apex of her thighs.

“May I taste you, sweetheart?” Mac asked, his gray eyes filled with desire as his fingers teased the sensitive flesh of her sex.

Letty was an innocent to be sure, but her sister was not, and had given her detailed accounts of her own dalliances. Now, she was the one experiencing pleasure for herself. Unable to find her voice, she nodded, her heart pounding so rapidly she swore he could hear it as well.

Taking her skirt and chemise in his large hands, he lifted them higher, exposing her entire lower half to the cool room.

“Hold your skirts,” he said in a deep, commanding voice.

Biting her bottom lip, heat rose to Letty’s face, one of her ink-covered hands gripped her skirts and lifted them higher. The apron she was wearing rose up easily, bunching against her middle.

Pulling her bottom closer to the edge of the desk, Mac opened her legs wider, only the top of his head visible.

She let out a shaky breath, as he pressed a gentle kiss to her womanhood. Her free hand slammed on the desk behind her, as her body arched. His wicked tongue began slowly exploring her depths, there was no stopping the tawdry sound that escaped her lips.

“Mac! Please,” she begged, but had no idea what she was begging for.

Her core ached as a deep pulsating need raced through her. Falling back against the desk, Letty released her skirts, unable to concentrate on anything but the glorious feelings running through her.

When a single finger entered her tight channel, she let out a wanton cry. His mouth sucked at the sensitive nub of her sex, rendering her completely useless, as her body rose higher and higher until a sudden euphoria crashed through her.

“Yes, God yes!” she yelled, her fingers pulling him closer to her sex as he continued to suck and lick her.

Panting for breath, Letty lay helpless as Mac stood, pulling her limp body up and ravishing her mouth.

She could taste her own essence on his lips, and for the first time in her life, Letty knew exactly what it felt like to be wild.