Maverick Millionaires: Trapped with the Maverick Millionaire / Pregnant by the Maverick Millionaire / Married to the Maverick Millionaire

* * *

By sundown there was still no power. They gathered up a beach blanket, a lamp and a makeshift supper and headed for the beach. In the golden rays of the sunset, they cleared sticks and leaves from a patch of sand, spread out the blanket and looked at the docile sea and the sky free of all but a few small clouds.

“If it wasn’t for the mess you’d think nothing had happened,” Mac said, echoing her thoughts. It was scary how often he did that. Scary and a little nice.

“Fickle nature,” Rory agreed, pulling her tank top over her head and dropping the shirt to the sand. She shimmied out of her shorts and stood in her plain black bikini, desperate to feel the water against her skin. She turned to Mac and found him looking at her with a strange expression on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...just thinking how gorgeous you look.”

Rory flushed and lifted her hand in dismissal. “I’m already sleeping with you, McCaskill, there’s no need to go overboard.”

Rory turned away and walked toward the sea, foolishly hurt by his compliment. She wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the pictures of him in the papers, normally accompanied by a skinny, long-legged giraffe who could grace any catwalk anywhere in the world. Shay had been his first supermodel-gorgeous girlfriend, and every girlfriend since had been slinky and sexy. Tall, dammit.

Mac’s hand on her shoulder spun her around. She swallowed when she saw the irritation in his eyes. “Don’t do that!”

She widened her eyes to look innocent. “Do what?”

“Dismiss me. I never say things I don’t mean and if I say you look gorgeous then I mean to say that you look freakin’ amazing and I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

Warmth blossomed in her stomach at his backhanded compliment. Freaking amazing? Did he really think so?

“I see doubt on your face again.” Mac cradled her cheek in his hand. “Why?”

Oh, jeez, he would think she was stupidly insecure and horribly lacking in confidence. Which she was, but she didn’t want him to know that. “Uh—”

“Why, Rory?”

Rory kicked her bare foot into the sand. “Um, maybe because all the girls you normally...uh, date...are about a hundred feet tall and stacked and I’m a munchkin with a flat chest and a complex.”

Mac stared at her before releasing a long, rolling laugh. Rory narrowed her eyes at him while he tried to control himself, wiping at the tears in his eyes.

“Glad I amuse you,” she said, her tone frosty.

“Oh, you really do.” Mac took her hand and pulled her to the sea. Thoroughly irritated with him she yanked her hand from his and dived into an oncoming wave. She started to swim, only to be jerked back by a hand on her ankle. She rolled onto her back and scowled as she tried to pull her ankle from Mac’s grip.

“Let me go.” She tried, unsuccessfully, to kick him.

“Pipe down...shrimp.”

Oh, that was fighting talk. She swiped her arm down and sprayed a stream of water into his face. Mac dropped her ankle and she launched herself at him, throwing a punch at his uninjured arm. “You jerk!”

Mac easily captured both her wrists in one hand and held them behind her back. Then he inched up two fingers to pull the strings that held her bikini top closed. He let her wrists go so he could pull the triangles over her head and toss the top onto the sand behind them before stepping back to look down at her breasts.

Moving them back into the shallows until they were standing in ankle deep water Mac placed his hands on her hips, keeping an arm’s length between them. His gaze traveled from the tips of her head to where her feet disappeared into the water. Rory bit her lip and looked at the beach behind him, but Mac’s fingers on her chin brought her eyes back to his face.

“I refuse to let you spend one more second thinking you are second-rate.” Mac’s voice was low and imbued with honesty. His fingers drifted down her neck, across her collarbone and down the swell of her breast. His thumb rubbed across her nipple and it puckered under his touch. “Yeah, you’re small but perfect. So responsive, so sweet.”

He bent his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth, causing her to whimper and arch her back. He licked and nibbled and then moved on to the other breast before sinking to his knees, his hands on her hips. He looked up at her, the gold and oranges of the sunset in his hair and on his face. “You are small but perfect.”

He repeated the words, his thumbs tunneling under the sides of her bikini bottoms. “I lose myself in your eyes, drown in your laugh and feel at peace in your arms.” His thumb skimmed over her sex and she whimpered when he touched her sweet spot. “I find myself when I’m deep inside you.”

“Mac.” She whimpered, needing him to...to...do something. More. Touch her, taste her. Complete her.

Rory thought she heard Mac say something like, “You are the fulfillment of every fantasy I’ve ever had,” but all her attention was focused on his fingers, now deep inside her. He could’ve been proposing and she wouldn’t have cared as her bikini bottoms dropped to the sand and his hot, hot mouth enveloped her.

He licked and she screamed. He repeated the motion and her knees buckled. He sucked and she fell apart, her orgasm hot and spectacular. When she sank to her knees in front of him, he tipped her flushed face upward and dropped a hot, openmouthed kiss on her lips. “As I said, you are utterly perfect. Let’s swim naked,” he suggested, picking up her bikini bottoms and throwing them in the same direction as her top.

Impossible man, Rory thought when her brain cells started firing again. Sexy, crazy, impossible man.

* * *

In the same restaurant they’d visited two weeks ago—a pink-and-yellow sunset tonight and no hurricane on the way—Mac tucked his credit card back into his wallet and gave Rory a crooked grin. “Eaten enough?”

Rory leaned back and patted her stomach. “Sorry, I’m a real girl who eats real food.” Not like those models you normally date, she silently added.

“You ate fish stew, two empanadas and you still had pumpkin pudding.” Mac shook his head. “I know every slim inch of you and I have no idea where all that food goes.”

Rory picked up her drink, put the vividly green straw between her lips and sucked up some piña colada. Instead of responding, she fluttered her eyebrows at Mac, who smiled. God, she loved it when he smiled. It made her heart smile every single time.

Mac stood up and held out his hand. Rory put her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up from her chair. “Oof. You weigh a ton.”

Rory slapped his shoulder. “Jerk.”

“Well, you’re going to work that food off.”

Oh, she couldn’t wait. Making love with Mac was fun, fantastic, toe-curling and, yes, it was athletic. Win win.

“What I have in mind is a bit more adventurous... Are you game?”

“Maybe,” Rory carefully replied, doubt in her voice. “If it’s not too kinky or too weird...”

His laughter, spontaneous and deep, rumbled across her skin and she shivered. Mac had a great laugh and, like smiling, he definitely didn’t do enough of it.

“It’s a surprise. A surprise that you have to work for but I promise it will be amazing.” Mac brushed his lips across the top of her head. Then his arm snaked around her waist and he kissed her properly, crazily, tongues going wild. She melted against him, into him, swept up in her desire for him.

As usual, Mac was the first to pull back. He jerked back, looked down the beach and back to her mouth.

“What?” Rory pushed her hair off her face.

“Deciding whether to scrap my plans and hurry you home.” Rory huffed her frustration when he stepped back and distanced himself from her. “Nope, I really want you to see this.”

Mac glanced at the sunset, then at his watch and Rory noticed it was nearly dark. “Okay, it’s dark enough, let’s go.”

“Go where?” Rory asked as he took her hand and led her down the restaurant steps toward the beach. She kicked off her sandals and sighed when her feet dipped into the still-warm sand. She picked up her shoes, slid her hand back into Mac’s and followed his leisurely pace down the beach. What was he up to? And really, did it matter? It was a stunning summer’s evening on the island, the air was perfumed and Mac was holding her hand, occasionally looking at her with the promise of passion in his eyes...