Tempting (Red Lips & White Lies Book 1)
Chapter 7

Nixon takes my hand in his and moves us onto the dance floor. A slow Van Morrison song replaces the more upbeat tune that just ended, and he pulls me in close to his chest. His hand covers mine over his heart, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear my own heart skips a beat in return. Only this isn’t an arrhythmia as much as an overactive imagination.

One of the things I’ve come to realize I was lacking in DC was human touch.

It sounds silly with what I do for a living. You’d assume I touch people every day, so how could I be lacking it? But that kind of touch isn’t intimate. It’s just not the same. Not the way I’ve experienced it since coming home.

I missed this.

This . . . Dancing closely with a man. Hugging my friends. Holding my niece in my arms. It’s jumping on Nixon’s back and the way my brother kisses the top of my head. All the little things everyone else does so easily every day . . . everyone but me, and I’m only just beginning to remember what I was missing.

Or it could be me just overthinking. Again.

Nixon wraps an arm around my back, and his big palm presses gently between my shoulders. I stiffen at first, caught slightly off guard. “Sorry about him.”

“What do you have to be sorry about? Your brother should be overprotective. It’s our job as brothers. Be grateful you only have one. Everly and Grace have three.”

“I guess,” I agree, slightly mortified not only by my brother’s actions but also by my spiraling thoughts as I lean into Nixon’s warmth.

“Why do I make you nervous, Mac?”

I can’t blame him for the question. I’m doing a lousy job of hiding it. “It’s not you, Nix. I’m just not used to . . . this.” I blow out a breath, trying to figure out how to explain it to him without sounding like a fool. “To guys like you.”

“Guys like me?” He does that thing again where he bends his knees so we’re eye to eye, and I really wish I knew why the hell I replace that so incredibly sexy. “Should I be insulted?”

Luckily, he seems amused, not annoyed.

“No, Nix. I promise it’s not an insult. Not at all. Guys like you,” I stammer, trying to put my feelings into words. Words that will preferably not completely humiliate me. But I fear it’s too late. “Flirty guys. Touchy guys. Cool, confident, cocky guys . . . I’m not used to it.”

He holds my eyes with his for a long beat before straightening back to his full, impressive height without backing away.

If anything, he pulls me closer.

Holds me tighter.

“Wait a minute . . .” The grin he gives me should be illegal, it’s so potent. “The guys in DC aren’t touchy? Poor fucks don’t know what they’re missing. There’s nothing like a woman’s soft skin.” His fingers trail up my neck, sending a chill down my spine, and Nixon’s eyes crinkle before they narrow on me. “There were guys, right? Probably chasing after you the way they did in high school.”

I look away instead of answering, debating how much I want to tell him and wondering what the hell he thought he saw in high school. Because my recollection and his seem very different.

“What?” he asks as his hand cups the back of my neck and lifts my face to his.

“No, Nix. They weren’t chasing me. Not in high school and certainly not during my residency. We were all too busy for that. Quick hookups were all most of us had time for.”

A muscle twitches in Nixon’s jaw, and I add it to my growing list of all the things I replace surprisingly sexy about the twins’ brother. “I know we’re friends, but I’m not sure I want to be the kind of friend who hears about your hookups, Mackenzie.” His voice rumbles deep and gravelly, and ho-ly wet panties. That sound reverberates like it has a direct line to all eight thousand nerve endings in my clit.

All. Eight. Thousand.

“You’re safe then,” I admit as a hot flush creeps up my cheeks. “No hookups.”

The song changes again. A more sultry beat plays, and it’s like we’re two magnets drawn to each other. Each inching the tiniest bit closer. Almost involuntarily.

Nixon’s hold on my throat can’t possibly not look possessive.

It certainly feels that way, and I don’t hate it.

“Did you have a boyfriend my sisters didn’t mention?” His tone is casual as he slides the hand resting on my hip over until it rests just below my waist but not quite on my ass.

Damn. I haven’t had a man touch my ass in so long, I think I lost count of the years.

“No boyfriend,” I lament. “Not since the tenth grade.”

It only takes him a minute to realize exactly who I’m talking about before he groans. “Come on, Mac. You haven’t had a boyfriend since Allen Dyson? The fucking vacuum? Seriously?”

“Shut up, Nix.” I push back against his chest with a laugh. This is the problem with small towns. Everyone is related to everyone, me included, and everyone knows everything. There’s no hiding. “It was a few weeks before homecoming, and Everly was dating his older brother. In my defense, once I found out why they called him the vacuum, we broke up.” My smile grows as I remember in vivid detail the hickey Becket found me trying to hide before he threatened to have Allen’s entire family erased from existence.

Becks was always more dramatic than Juliette.

“Wait . . .” Nix draws out the words, and I know what he’s putting together. This man was never a dumb jock. “No boyfriend and no hookups . . .” The tick in his jaw reappears. That jaw is chiseled out of the same granite his chest seems to be carved from. “Not since tenth grade?”

“There may have been a hookup or two in college . . .” I may also be stretching the definition of hooking up.

Am I actually going to have this conversation on the dance floor of one of Kroydon Hills biggest events of the whole damn year?

I drag my hand down his chest . . . his incredibly hard, beautifully muscled chest, and an idea begins to take shape. Probably a very, very, bad idea. One I’m not ready to give voice to just yet. No . . . Instead, I decide on a different approach. “Listen, we can’t all have beautiful women warming our bed whenever we want.”

“Do you want a beautiful woman warming your bed, Mackenzie? Because I’ve got to tell you, I’d give my left testicle to see that.”

I shake my head slowly, enjoying the way his eyes darken as he licks his lips like he’s the big bad wolf, and he’s hungry.

“The left one?” I tease slowly.

That cocky grin reappears. “Hangs lower than the right.”

“Makes sense then. Sadly though, you’re not going to replace me in bed with any woman. Beautiful or otherwise. Vagina is my day job. Not my night one.”

The song ends, and the DJ announces the first course is being served as Annabelle takes the stage and the mic. The hunger lingering in Nixon’s eyes isn’t going anywhere, but instead of saying a word, he offers me his arm and walks me back to the table.

Guess I was saved from diving into that discussion.

But maybe jumping headfirst wouldn’t have been so bad for a change.

Nixon

My brain can’t stop working through all the different possibilities.

Can’t, not won’t.

Because there is no possible world where the gorgeous woman at my side, who has charmed everyone she’s spoken to tonight, hasn’t had a hookup since college. I mean, she’s spent four years in her residency and another . . . what, three maybe, in med school?

Then in a whirling flash of chaos, I try to wrap my brain around the possibility that Mackenzie Hayes has a different definition of hookup than the rest of the world. Because there’s no fucking way this goddess hasn’t had sex in almost ten years. Is there?

Fuck . . .

After dinner, I stand at the bar with a Jack and Coke in my hand, watching her dance with her brother, when my father stops next to me.

“Maccallan, neat,” he tells the bartender, then follows my line of sight and smiles. “Your sisters told me this was just one friend going with another friend. But I’ve been watching you, Nixon. And you’re not looking at Kenzie the way you look at a friend.”

I lean back against the bar and sip my drink. “We can’t all be you and Mom.”

“None of you should be your mother and me. Be yourselves. Find your own way, kid. It’s all we’ve ever wanted for any of you.”

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t think my way includes anyone else. Not right now.” Mac catches my attention when she lights up, laughing at something Easton said from across the room. Fucking beautiful. “Hockey takes everything I’ve got.”

“Don’t give it so much that you’ve got nothing when it all ends, Nix. Because, and take it from me, it all ends. If it weren’t for your mother, I’m not sure who the hell I would have been without football.”

“You retired as the most successful quarterback of all time. The whole world knows who you are,” I goad him.

“Nah. The whole world knew who I was on a football field. Your mom and you kids know me. Our family is the reason I never lost who I was. Hell . . . who I am. Don’t pass up a chance at that, Nixon.” He looks back over at Kenzie and Easton. “And don’t fuck her around. Kenzie’s a good girl who your sisters and mother love. Understand?”

I put down my drink, no longer thirsty. “I wasn’t planning on it. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Always were more like your mother than me . . .” he murmurs as I head back to the table, waiting for Mac and Easton as they walk off the dance floor. “You ready to head home?”

Easton looks between us and shakes his head. “Touch her and die, Sinclair.”

“I’m shaking, Hayes. Seriously. Terrified.” I drop my hand to Mac’s back and enjoy her sweet giggles. And man, does that sound do something to me.

Something her brother doesn’t need to know.

“Yes. I’m ready to go,” Mackenzie inserts herself, ignoring the testosterone flying between Easton and me. We’re both joking . . . to an extent, but I have no fucking doubt he’d eviscerate me for her if he felt like he had to. I’d do the same for the twins. “Tell Lindy I’ll see her later, E.”

He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You should stop by this week. Let’s try to do dinner before the season starts.”

“I’ll figure it out with Lindy.” She smiles, clearly dismissing him and grabs her purse.

No sooner does Easton walk away than I see Dr. Dick zeroing in on us. “Dick at six o’clock,” I whisper in her ear, and peals of laughter slip past Mac’s lips.

“Come with me.” I press her forward and guide us through the glass doors out onto the covered terrace and into the shadows. The storm has set in, and the warm rain is coming down in fat drops.

“Do you think he’ll follow us,” she asks as she glances around my body crowding her into the shadows.

“What’s his deal, Mac? Is he hitting on you?” I run a finger through her hair and push the soft locks over her freckled shoulder. “Does he want to be one of those hookups you don’t have time for?”

“Don’t make fun of me, Nixon Sinclair.” Her eyes hold mine as she refuses to back down. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be so focused on one thing that you just don’t make time for any others.”

The air between us crackles while rain pounds down around us, forcing us together under the small overhang.

“I might just understand more than you realize, Mac. But not making time for something like a relationship doesn’t mean I can’t make time for other things.” I drag my fingers over her soft skin and stop at her hip. “Tell me something, Mac. How long has it been since your last hookup?”

She licks her lips and looks away. Something I’m noticing this woman does often. “Can’t we just say that it’s been too long and be done with it?”

“Look at me, Mackenzie.”

Her doe eyes snap right back up to mine.

“So it’s been years since a man touched your skin?” I tower over her and plant a hand against the wall, forcing her attention my way . . . and damn, it’s almost too easy to get lost in this woman. In her intoxicating scent. In the way she shivers and moves closer while I drag my nose up the length of her neck. Fucking delicious. “Tasted you?”

Her teeth press down into her pillowy bottom lip as she clutches my shirt in her fists. “I don’t have time for a relationship, Nixon.”

“Good, because I’m not asking for a relationship.” I bunch the silk fabric of her dress in my hand but don’t move a fucking inch. “I’m not looking to do the dating thing.”

“Then what are you wanting to do, Nix?” she breathes out as barely an inch separates our mouths.

“I want to taste your come on my tongue.”

Her pink lips form the sweetest O.

“I want to hear you scream my name as you’re coming on my cock.” I’m practically shaking with the need to fuck Mackenzie Hayes in a way I’ve never needed anything before. “I want to remind you just how incredible sex can be.”

Kenzie’s eyes widen as she purses her lips.

“Tell me you want that too, Mac. Tell me you’re good without labels or expectations. Tell me you want what I’m proposing.”

She traces the lines of my face with the tips of her fingers. “Not a relationship.”

I suck her finger between my lips, and a pretty hum builds behind hers.

“Not a relationship. Just two friends, who are already fake dating, helping each other out. And when one of us stops needing or wanting help, we stop. Still friends.”

“Friends who’ve seen each other naked,” she says softly, but goddamn, those words pack a powerful punch.

I lean her back against the brick building, fucking desperate for her, and slide my hand up the warm, soft skin of her creamy thigh.

Mac’s head drops back against the brick as she sucks in a breath.

I run a finger over the damp lace of her panties, and she rewards me with the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. “Friends who share orgasms, Mac. And I want your first one now.”