Once more, I attempted to hoist my body out of the pool.Dammit.I mentally grumbled. Empowering or not, the next day after an intense workout was proving a bit brutal. And I wasn’t even lifting a fourth of what my giant muscle-bound Alpha hoisted with ease. At least he said tomorrow was a rest and recovery day.
Realizing I was never going to exit the pool the ‘hard’ way, I gripped the edge with both hands and began slowly inching towards the deep-end ladder. Each slight kick and sideways shift sent fresh ripples through the water. Little waves hit higher on my back each time, and the wet coolness contrasted starkly against my heated skin, already dry thanks to the sun radiating overhead.
“Need a hand?”
I squinted up, finding Mac again. Before I could respond, he moved to a patio table and set down the tropical drinks he was holding. When he returned, he crouched down in front of me, tucked his hands beneath my arms, and smoothly lifted me out of the water. A gasp escaped me as I whooshed into the air effortlessly. Seconds later, I was suspended in front of Mac, my toes barely grazing the stamped concrete below.
Sun glinting in my eyes, making Mac look haloed in light, I took a moment to appreciate the sight of him. His tousled golden hair begged a hand to trace through it. His sunglasses, perched low on the bridge of his nose, revealed sparkling eyes. His gaze was hazy with lust now, instead of the pain of unfulfilled need.
“You can set me down now,” I murmured.
“Can I?” he countered, looking as if he’d rather carry me into the house to engage in other… wetter… activities.
“I feel like a wimp,” the words tumbled out as scorching blush crept into my face, “couldn’t even lift myself out of the pool.”
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, Tessa.” He lowered me, ever so slowly, until my feet landed solid on the ground. I stumbled, clawing onto him to keep upright.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Mac's hands slipped around my waist. He lifted me again—as if I was the lightest burden on the world—until our faces hovered inches apart. The blush was an inferno now. My heart raced. My tongue felt thick. I couldn’t form words.
"Are you okay?" Mac whispered, leaning closer, his breath warm against my cheek. The question seemed to have layers—was I okay being this close, was I okay with how my body responded to his touch, was I okay with the way his scent wrapped around me like silk?
I wasn't okay. I was drowning in the amber flecks of his hazel eyes. I was falling, without a parachute, into the careful way he held me like I might break. My Omega stirred, recognizing something in Mac that was different from the others. Where Dixon was wild intensity and Ryder was magnetic pull and Tray was playful warmth, Mac was... steady. Safe. The kind of Alpha who would catch you when you fell and never let you hit the ground. He wouldn’t miss, but if he did, he’d stitch you together again. Until you were good as new. Until the damage wasn’t even remembered.
"I'm—" My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm fine."
But even as I said it, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I pressed closer to him. He had to help me, since he was holding me midair again. Mac didn’t hesitate now. My soaking wet suit pressed into his linen button-down. I felt every dip and rise of his abdomen. Funny how I hadn’t realized so much lean muscle existed under his clean-cut, calm exterior. I lifted my legs, wrapping them around his waist. His hands moved lower to cup my ass cheeks and jostle me into a more stable position.
“I’m going to kiss you?” Mac made it a question, even though it didn’t have to be.
“I’m going to kiss you back,” I answered.
I felt utterly alive, hanging there in his grasp. Bad thoughts tried to creep inward—your family is dead, you should be dead too, you don’tdeserve to be happy—but I fought them back. I was getting better at pushing the past away. The charged space between us sparked and sizzled; the air was full of unspoken words and burgeoning feelings. Mac tilted his head closer. I stayed perfectly still now, just watching him. I didn’t have to hang on with my own meager strength; Mac’s grip was firm and his arm muscles taut as his fingers dug into my tender flesh.
When our mouths met, relief flooded through me. My Omega stretched, finding the last piece of her puzzle in the kiss.
Joining with Mac was nothing like the desperate hunger I'd shared with Dixon, the years of longing coming to a head with Ryder, or the playful sweetness of Tray's breakfast moment. This was something else entirely. It was deliberate and thorough, like Mac himself. His lips moved against mine with a precision that made my toes curl against one another where they met against Mac’s back. I found myself gripping him harder, thighs pressing into him brutally. He responded in kind, his aching need almost making me gasp as he held onto me with feverish strength. God, he tasted like fresh pineapple, coconut liquor, and endless possibility.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Mac's forehead rested against mine. His hazel eyes searched my face with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
"God, Tessa," he whispered, his voice rough with want. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
“I could ask you the same question,” I whispered. What I did to him was readily apparent, thanks to the large, hardened length of his dick currently throbbing beneath my ass.
“I think I have to kiss you one more time.” His hooded gaze filled with intention.
“You taste like a vacation,” I murmured stupidly.
“I had a few shots of the rum while making our drinks.” He gave me a half-cocked smile. “Liquid courage.”
“Then be brave and give me that second kiss,” I challenged.
Before our lips could meet again, a loud splash erupted behind us, followed by Tray's distinctive laughter.
"Well, well, well! Looks like Mac finally made his move!”
“About damn time!” Dixon bellowed.
Ryder said nothing, but when I shifted in Mac’s embrace, I saw that Ryder’s face wore an accepting, appreciative smile. We’d had a talk last night about our past. It was strange to realize that while I’d spent nearly two years resenting him and Oblivion Haze, he’d desperately clung to my memory.
