“Difficult and moody and unable to give you more than this?” She gestures to her wrinkled dress, dirty feet, and hair that’s now half undone from its previous perfection. “Because I’m so far from flawless it’s not funny.”
I lean forward until my lips graze her jaw. “You’re flawless to me, Henwood. And we want the same things, remember?”
She turns her head until her lips find mine. Then she kisses the hell out of me.
It’s a perfectly imperfect Macey Henwood kiss—urgent and frantic and needy, and her tongue winds into mine with abandon. Macey kisses recklessly with zero self-consciousness and no hesitation or slow lead-in. She just goes for it.
I match her pace and give her everything I’ve been feeling since I promised her I’d win the Wild Darcy Derby. I lick and nibble her lips and wrap my fingers in the loose strands of her hair. When she finally pulls away, her lips are swollen and pink. Just the way I like to see them.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Her voice comes out raw and needy. “Take me to the lake.”
“How about we start right here?” I turn the wheel to the left, and we bump along a dirt road with no streetlights, no traffic, and no people.
The only sounds are the symphony of cicadas and the distant melody of geese by the water.
“Here’s good,” she murmurs.
I bring the truck forward until it’s off to the side of the road and half-hidden by a stand of trees. Then, I turn off the engine and turn to Macey.
“Mrs. Darcy?—”
Macey starts laughing.
“What’s funny?”
“Don’t Darcy and Elizabeth never even kiss in Pride & Prejudice?”
“True. But we’re going to live out the modern-day fantasy. Which includes lots of hot sex.”
The moonlight casts a bright beam into the car, and I can see Macey’s eyes darken with lust. I’m so overwhelmed with need for her that I can’t speak right away. Yes, we made a promise when we were teenagers that we would sleep with other people, date whomever we wanted, and that we wouldn’t tie ourselves down with a relationship or anything at all, really.
And we both kept up our end of the bargain.
But whenever we’re together, I feel a pang in the recesses of my heart of what has always been true—Macey Henwood is the only woman who turns my world upside down.
She licks her lips and waits, watching me.
“So?” she says finally when I say nothing. “What are the new ideas you have for us?”
“Get in the back,” I say gruffly.
The windows are open, and the steamy Texas air is still well over ninety degrees, probably hitting close to a hundred. But the woman next to me is the reason I’m an inferno inside.
I follow her into the back seat of the truck and take her face in my hands.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all day long,” I tell her. “Being alone with my best friend.”
She bites her lip. “Logan.”
When I put my mouth over hers, she moans. Her hands go to my jacket, and she pulls it off of me. She tugs at my tie until it’s loose enough for me to drag it over my head. Next comes my dress shirt, and Macey immediately starts working on the buttons. As soon as my shirt opens, she pulls it off, and then her hands are all over me.
“Baby, shit.” I slide my tongue inside her mouth.
She runs her fingers over my ribcage and across the bruise I got from wrangling the steer the other morning, and I jump.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Macey sucks in a breath as she looks at my bare torso. “That’s a nasty bruise, Logan.”
I shush her and ghost kisses along her neck. “It’s fine. Keep touching me.”
