Free Falling by Debra Webb Page B

sex. It couldn’t be anything
else. Couldn’t be.
    The next touch of her lips was no accident.
Free took her time, planting lingering kisses all along his throat.
Mac squeezed his eyes shut and fought the impulse to drag her to
the ground and take her right there in the rain.
    Unable to live another moment without
responding, he nuzzled the crook of her neck, tasted the shell of
her ear. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”
    She drew back and looked into his eyes. “I’m
sorry…I couldn’t help myself.” She looked as surprised by her
actions as he felt. That startled innocence pulled at something
deep inside him.
    Mac made his decision right then and there,
staring into her eyes with the rain falling around them. “Don’t be
sorry,” he whispered as he took her mouth with his own. “Don’t ever
be sorry.” He breathed the words against her mouth, then tugged on
her lower lip with his teeth. He swept his tongue over that
sensitive area behind her lip, teasing, seeking access. She opened
and he dipped inside. Her arms tightened around his neck, and
pressed her body against him. He slid his hands over her bottom and
pulled her against him. She moaned, then stroked his tongue with
her own. Her body felt firm and hot beneath the damp dress. He
wanted her out of it, to feel her skin melding with his.
    “I want to take you inside,” he murmured.
    Her eyes met his, that deep blue glittering
with desire, rain slipping down her cheeks. She nodded her
approval.
    He took her hand in his and they dashed
across the yard. Her laughter echoed through the night and his
heart skipped a beat. How could anything sound that wonderful? He
wanted to hear her laugh again and again. They bounded onto the
stoop, but he couldn’t wait until he got her inside. He whirled her
around and pressed her against the door, covering her mouth with
his. His hands were frantic now, searching, touching, learning her
body. Free matched his frenzy. She kissed him hard, touched him
everywhere.
    “Inside…we have to go inside,” she managed to
say between kisses, her breath as ragged as his.
    Mac wrapped one arm around her waist and
lifted her against him. He opened the screen door and walked into
his dimly lit kitchen, without ending the kiss. He pressed her into
the wall and intensified his assault. He wanted to be inside her.
He thrust harder into her mouth and ground his hips into hers.
    “Not here, not like this,” she protested, her
words hardly a whisper.
    “Okay,” he rasped, clutching her to him once
more and moving away from the wall. His wet feet slipped on the
slick tile. “Whoa!” Mac grabbed back his balance and steadied
himself. She didn’t seem to notice or care; she just kept kissing
him—his face, his throat, his chest.
    He caressed her bottom, pressing her against
him. Groaning her need, she wrapped her legs around his waist and
squeezed. Desire roared through him. He wouldn’t make it to the
bedroom. Maybe the parlor. He could make it to the parlor.
    He stumbled into the parlor, bounced off a
chair, Free’s tongue dueling with his in a mind-numbing kiss.
Staggering and crazy with want, he made it to the sofa and stumbled
onto it, Free still wrapped around him.
    He had to touch her breasts. Now. His
fingers twisted and tugged at the material, trying desperately to
undo the long row of tiny pearl buttons gracing the front of her
dress. Her fingers buried in his hair, she nipped at his chin,
traced his lips with her tongue. Mac alternately kissed her and
struggled with the buttons. He couldn’t decide which he wanted
more, to kiss her or to feel her skin burning into his. When she
arched against him, Mac lost it completely. He cursed and abandoned
the buttons. He covered one, rosy peak with his mouth, sucking it
through the gauzy fabric.
    Free screamed her pleasure, the sound almost
pushing him over the edge. Her hands were all over him now,
fumbling with his snap, then the zipper. His mouth latched onto the
other