“Oh my god, what?” she demanded, the roar of blood in her ears receding when he didn’t make further movements toward her.
“You are not a convenient fuck. I wanted to be able to use you, but goddamn it…” His tone started angry and defensive, then softened. “Damn it, Day; I care about you. Fuck all, didn’t want to. Didn’t want to give a shit about your crap. But… I do.”
She didn’t say anything as she stared at him. Mac always had a caveat, a clever follow-up that ripped the rug right out from under her once she thought they were having a moment. Mac didn’t havemoments.
“We care abouteach other,” he pointed out, his dark eyes drilling into hers, daring her to disagree.
Cassidy’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the only acknowledgment that she heard him.
Taking a step toward her, he said again softly, “We care about each other. Why this hurts so fucking much. Why what I did—what I said—hurts you so fucking much.”
He was right. If anyone else had said those words to her, it wouldn’t have mattered. Or it would have, but in a different way. But Mac had said them; Mac’s words had broken her heart.
“Sweetheart—”
She blinked. “I’m not your sweetheart.” She headed toward the door, an arm up to ward him off.
He moved so fast, she didn’t have time to react—that’s what she’d tell herself later when she revisited the moment in her mind. She wouldn’t admit walking right into him and shoving him away had goaded him into the response of grasping her by the back of her neck and pulling her to him. That she had been too caught off guard to resist his mouth coming down on hers as his other arm secured her to him. She’dhadto grab on to his arms to keep her balance.
But she didn’t have an explanation for why she molded against him, melted into him, opened her mouth to him. She wouldn’t be able to justify away the low moan as his tongue invaded her mouth and stroked against hers; and there would be no good defense for how her hips tilted against him, rubbing, looking for friction against his erection through his fatigues.
He groaned in response, his fingers sliding up from her neck to the soft down of the back of her head, gripping her, holding her in place so he could deepen the kiss. He aided her quest with a slow thrusting movement of his own, causing her to gasp against his lips as a tremor rippled through her.
Biting her lower lip, he breathed against her mouth, “Fucking want you, Day.”
Sanity returned to her, and she started to push away from him, shaking her head. “No! No, I don’t want this.” But god, she was lying because she did. She did, so much. She wanted him desperately; she was wrapped around him, her body on fire for him, throbbing and trembling—she was dry-humping him, for Pete’s sake, eager to welcome him into her body—lending no credence to her words.
With a hard swallow, he lifted his head and stared at her, gauging, disbelieving.
Cassidy returned his look. They stared at each other, chests colliding under the exercise of drawing in heavy breaths, the heat, the intimacy familiar and fatal. She stood there a moment too long without answering, she knew, because a knowing smirk started creeping over his face.
Cassidy pushed at him viciously. “Stop it! You don’t get to do this to me, Mac!”
He released her but body-blocked her from leaving, a hand on her waist. “What do I do to you?”
Face flushed, she admitted, “I respond to you, I do. I can’t hide that. But so does every other woman you’ve fucked. I’m not special. You’re talented, is that what you want to hear? I’ll send you a fucking ribbon.”
He grasped her chin with his other hand. “You’re special.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be special for you. Look at where it’s gotten me.”
He blinked, searching her eyes for the truth behind her words. After a few seconds, he released her. “We aren’t finished. That night—”
“We’re finished,” she assured him, sidling past him. At the door, she turned back and looked at him. “We’re two disasters, Mac. And that night, we were two disasters colliding. But now, we’re done.”
“Day. No.”
She pushed the screen door open and went through, ordering over her shoulder, “Donotfollow me.” She slowly walked back toward her house, giving him every opportunity to chase her.
He didn’t.
Chapter sixty-two
Cassidy
SOMETHING OF MINE
“You’vebeenignoringmycalls,” Marge accused as she walked around her car.