Cassidy peeked over his shoulder at Fred, not confident that was true. “How much is dog therapy?”
That earned her another smack on the ass.
“Mac!” But she was trying not to laugh at herself. And she was beginning to like the stinging sensation.
“Okay, Day, down,” he instructed inside the bathroom.
Giving him a look, she unwrapped her legs, allowing him to ease her to the ground. “You need to work on not talking to me like I’m Fred.”
He struggled not to smile, but his eyes were dancing. “I never told Fred I was gonna fuck him.”
Matching his humor, she asked, “Really? Why does that shock me?”
“Oh, Day.” He chuckled, grabbing her arm and half turning her in a swift movement so he could deliver a more direct slap to her reddened cheeks. “I could spank you all night.”
Cassidy protested in a shriek again, trying to protect her bottom while at the same time modestly crossing an arm over her breasts. “Mac, really!”
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against him. “What are you trying to hide? I’ve seen you naked already.” His hand eased down between her legs, and she bent her knees, wriggling away from him, denying him his goal. He placed his lips to the hollow spot beneath her ear and sucked.
On a violent tremble and cry, Cassidy fell back into his arms.
Mac smiled against her flesh. “So easy. Fuckin’ got your trigger. First try.”
Cassidy blinked. He was right. Damn, how had he done that? One touch of his lips, and she lit up like a Christmas tree, her body abuzz, and she became putty in his arms. That hadn’t happened before.
Before.
Shit.
Cassidy raised her eyes. Across from her was a window, the only window in the room. To the right was the pedestal sink and toilet; to the left, a Jacuzzi tub and a shower stall. But it was into the window she was looking, even though she couldn’t see beyond the blackness or the reflection of them in the pane.
“Mac.” She tried to pull against him.
His arms tightened around her, and he looked up into the window’s reflection, meeting her gaze there. “It’s not wrong.” He dropped his gaze to her face, adjusting his hold on her. “You know it’s not.” He dipped his head to nuzzle the sensitive area again.
Cassidy drew in another broken breath, trembling in his arms.
“Rediscovering what pleases you. Can’t be the first to notice it,” he commented.
She tilted her head, meeting his gaze. Actually, yes. He was. The fear, the worry she and Elijah had missed something—that she’d held back on her husband, even if unintentionally—was in her eyes. Why could Mac do something to her that Elijah hadn’t, something that rendered her powerless against him in an instant?
“Don’t do this, Cassidy; not to us, to him.”
He was more intuitive than she’d given him credit for, delivering beyond the safety of his walls to comfort her. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to plumb his deep brown ones, to look beyond those walls, to find the person who had a moment ago shone with such warmth. To the person who could reassure her repeatedly when he’d bluntly told her he didn’t care.
But he was better than she at this, and he grinned, throwing her off, bending to knock her feet out from under her. The next thing she knew, she was in his arms.
With another involuntary squeak, she threw her arms around his neck as he covered the little distance to the shower. “You treat me like a sack of potatoes.”
He cocked an eyebrow, gaze sweeping over her. “Lucky potatoes.”
She whacked the back of his head, drawing a chuckle from him. “And your head was made for smacking.”
“Both of them,” he agreed wickedly.
Cassidy blushed, fighting her laugh. Her emotions were running the gamut with him. What she wanted to do was tuck into him and have him hold her, assure her—of what, she wasn’t sure—but at the same time, with a glint and heat in his eyes, she wanted all of the power he’d held back to be unleashed between her legs.
Pushing aside the clear shower curtain, he reached into the stall with the arm holding her legs. He turned on the water, watching her.