Out of the Dark by Geri Foster Page B

against his shirt seemed sexy as all get out.
    Mac waited for her to get into bed. With the noise and light gone from the room, she slid in beside him and turned her back. She must be hanging on the edge of the bed because she certainly wasn’t anywhere near him. He wanted to chuckle, but he decided to sleep instead.
    *  * *
    Long before daylight, Mac woke from a deep slumber.  He stilled, gathering his bearing. Then he realized what disturbed his sleep. A hot, little body pressed against his back like a second s kin, and a world-class hard-on.
    Damn.
    Mac knew he had to get some distance between him and Em, but at the moment, he was in a very awkward position. Em, the man-hater, was wrapped round him like paper on a present. To make matters worse, her smooth leg was wedged between his, her other stacked on his thigh.
    She had him trapped and it felt good . Her warm body spooned his, with all the right body parts lining up perfectly. If he weren’t on assignment he’d probably sleep like this for days.
    But he couldn’t.
    Slowly, so as not to wake Em, he untangled himself. When he finally sat up and planted his feet on the carpeted floor, she mumbled something and rolled over. 
    After limping to the bathroom, Mac took a very painful piss. Now what to do about the damn woody?  No jacking off, he couldn’t muster that. So he did the next best thing, he removed his underwear, picked up the bucket of ice, gulped half the cold water then poured the rest down his belly. His thirst quenched, his dick limp, Mac dried off, slipped on his shorts, and looked at the bed.
    With help from the outside security lights he saw her tousled hair fanned out on the pillowcase and his mouth watered, making the pain in his groin intensify. Em was prettier than he first imagined, and he rarely made mistakes like that. She had a certain natural beauty, and wittiness he found refreshing and sexy as hell.
    All his life, he’d been attracted to pretty woman. Models, stewardesses, tall blondes, chicks like that. He never went for brains, personality or a sense of humor. 
    No, h e was a hands-on guy. Not the type to spend a lot of time with one woman. Never settled for one when two was so much more fun.
    Mac didn’t engage in tight relationships, and couldn’t fathom ever asking a woman to marry him. The very words would probably choke him to death.
    If marriage was anything like the hell his parents suffered through, he wanted no damn part of it. The accusations, the cussing, the drinking had made his childhood a living hell. The drugs came later. A strung out dealer shot his mother sixteen months after his father went to jail on a robbery charge.
    When all was said and done, he’d ended up in the foster care system until he was old enough to join the Navy. His parents left him so bitter there was no room in his heart for love.
    Marriage my ass. Give me a firing squad any day. 
    Besides, the life he led, the jobs he worked, and his personality in general, weren’t ideal for a wife or family.  He never knew where he’d be next, or if he’d be coming back.
    Every time he went on a mission, the odds were he wouldn’t return. So, why put a woman through that? Better he just did what he was paid to do, and keep his relationships light. So far he’d had no complaints.
    Mac walked across the room and stopped next to the bed. Mouth tight, he stared down at Em, who not only took most of the bed, but she had all the covers. Holding his side, he reached down, grabbed the corner of the blanket, and dumped her on the floor.
    She jumped up like a drowning victim surfacing. Shoving her hair out of her face, she frantically looked around. “What! What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing,” he said, wrapping himself in the blanket.  He lay down and fluffed the pillow beneath his head. 
    “Hey,” she said. “You took the covers.”
    He rolled on his back.  “That’s a switch, because you had them, and most of the bed, all night. Now, it’s my