"We don't have to talk about anything." He reached for her hand slowly, giving her time to pull away.
Rachel watched him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I want—"
She didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she closed the distance between them and kissed him, hard and desperate, her hands fisting in his shirt.
Mac responded immediately, his arms coming around her, pulling her close. This was urgent, almost frantic, like she was trying to drown out everything else.
"Rachel," Mac murmured against her lips. "Are you sure?"
"Don't talk," she breathed, her fingers sliding into his hair. "Please, don't talk."
She kissed him again, deeper this time, and Mac’s control slipped. His hands found her waist, sliding under the hem of her cardigan to touch warm skin, and Rachel gasped against his mouth.
"Mac," she whispered, and there was something desperate in her voice. "I don't want to think. I just want to feel something good."
Mac pulled back enough to look at her, his hands framing her face. "Rachel, I want this. God, I want this. But not if you're running from something. Not if—"
"I'm not running." Her eyes met his, dark and certain. "I'm choosing. I'm choosing you. I'm choosing this. Right now."
And then she was kissing him again, and Mac was lost.
His hands slid down her back, pulling her flush against him. Rachel's fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly in her urgency. Mac helped her, shrugging out of the shirt while his lips found her neck, the sensitive spot below her ear that made her breath catch.
"Bedroom?" Rachel breathed against his mouth.
"Yeah," Mac managed, his voice rough.
Instead of stepping back, his hands gripped her waist and he lifted her in one smooth motion, like she weighed nothing.Rachel gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her arms looping around his neck as he held her suspended against him.
"Okay?" he murmured, his forehead pressed to hers.
"Very okay," Rachel whispered, kissing him again.
Mac carried her down the hall, her body warm and perfect against his chest, her fingers threading through his hair, her lips never leaving his. He navigated blindly, muscle memory guiding him to his bedroom door.
Mac's bedroom was dark except for the moonlight filtering through the window. He lowered her gently onto the floor.
She was still wearing that gray dress that had been driving him crazy all evening. Her hands slid up his bare chest with a tentative touch that quickly grew bolder, nails dragging lightly over his skin.
He kissed her, harder than before, his hands sliding into her hair and tilting her head back for better access. Rachel made a soft sound against his mouth, her body pressing into his, and Mac groaned when he felt her breasts crush against his chest through the thin fabric of her dress.
His fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress, sliding it down slowly while his mouth moved to her neck. "Tell me if it's too much," he murmured against her skin. "We can slow down."
"Don't slow down," Rachel breathed, surprising them both with the command in her voice. The dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but black lace. "I don't want you to be careful with me."
"God, Rachel." Mac's hands spanned her waist, thumbs brushing up to cup her breasts through the lace. "You're so fucking beautiful."
She reached for his belt with fumbling fingers, and Mac covered her hands with his, helping her. His jeans hit the floor, and Rachel's eyes went wide when she felt exactly how hard he was pressing against her hip through his boxers.
"Feel what you do to me?" Mac said softly, rolling his hips forward. Rachel forgot to breathe, her cheeks flushing as she felt every inch of him.
She nodded, her hands exploring his chest, his shoulders, the muscles of his back, like she was memorizing him through touch. When her fingers traced lower, hesitating at the waistband of his boxers, Mac caught her hand and brought it to his lips.
"Bed," he said, his voice rough but gentle. "I want to take my time with you."
He walked her backward until her legs hit the mattress, then followed her down, his body covering hers. The weight of him seemed to ground her, and Rachel's legs wrapped around his hips tentatively at first, then with more confidence, pulling him closer so she could feel how hard he was against her core.
"Good?" Mac asked, his hand sliding up her side, watching her face carefully.
