Even at a young age, Mac had known what he wanted from Holly and was certain she was more than capable of giving it. If only he could show her. Holly was stubborn and never to be coerced. That was why he wanted them to talk. She had to be clear about what he demanded and expected. Under no circumstances would Holly ever be able to say she didn't know exactly what she was agreeing to.

  "Very likely," he said of her parent. God I hope not. "A canny lady, your mum. Right. My car is over there, by the Christmas tree. I couldn't get it any closer without parking on top of someone else."

  He rolled his eyes and Holly sniggered. "Yeah, that wouldn't go down well. They'd shake their heads and say, och, that Mac Hall is still a wee rogue, do you remember when…and drag every misdemeanor ever out and air it. Then put all of them in the local rag for other people to tut over."

  He clutched his heart dramatically. "No, not that. They'd even remember the salt in the sugar bowl at Mary Morris' tenth birthday. I couldn't sit down for a week after that, and to be on the receiving end of that is not my preference. Okay, enough. I behaved and parked in the wilderness, I'm a good boy now." He winked. "Very good."

  "Hmm, yes well…"

  "Stop worrying. I told you, we'll discuss everything and I'll answer all your questions. Once we're home. I've got the four-by-four so we can get up the track without any problems," Mac said. Her worry was etched on her face, and he wished he could reassure her everything would be good. Sadly, he didn't know if that was true or not. "Smile or they'll think I've beaten you. Already."

  "Oh you." She smiled and punched his shoulder, but the worry was erased and her grin lit up her face. "Already?"

  "Much better." He ignored her query. "Now can you walk in those apologies for shoes, or shall I carry you? Bear in mind, if we do move forward, I have some very interesting scenarios regarding them."

  Mac wondered what she would say. Adept at reading people's moods, Holly's were the ones that proved the exception to that rule, and he loved it. Just the thought of her feisty self sent his cock rock hard, his pre cum out to coat his dick, and his balls full.

  "Oh, well, can you carry me anyway, please?" She looked at him, her eyes sparkling with humor. "These are so not suitable, and my boots are in Noel's car, I think. Either that or the bugger has hidden them along with himself."

  Mac knew fine well that Noel would be nowhere to be seen. That was Noel supporting him in his efforts. They had no secrets from each other.

  "And just think how my street cred will go up when I tell people I've been in the arms of the great Mac Hall."

  "You wouldn't," he said with certainty. "You like your privacy."

  "Nope, I wouldn't, but you can carry me anyway."

  He laughed and swung her into his arms, enjoying the essence that was all Holly. She smelled of fresh, sweet woman and a hint of cinnamon and spices. That, he thought with an inward grin, summed her up perfectly.

  As he moved toward his car, Mac's hand strayed once more to her ass. He couldn't think of anything better than filling her there, except filling her pussy. Or having his cock in her mouth or his lips on her clit or...

  Stop right there. You have to drive home. It's so fucking cold, a boner could snap in two if touched. Cool it and get home. Then ramp up the heat.

  He opened the car door and put Holly down on the seat. The inside was like a fridge, and she shivered. "Shit, it's cold."

  Mac grabbed a fleecy blanket from the boot and wrapped it around her. She snuggled down so only the tip of her nose and the top of her head showed over it. "Thanks." Her voice was muffled.

  Mac kissed the top of her head. "My pleasure. Right, hold on, love. It'll soon warm up when I start the engine." His breath came out in misty puffs. Love? Where the fuck did that come from? I am not going there, not yet. Shit and balls. Talk about Freudian slips.

  Either Holly hadn't heard or was too cold to bother to reply. She nodded as he slammed the door and made his way around the car. The temperature had dropped by several degrees since they'd left the church, and ice shards sparkled on the top of the freezing snow. Mac swung up into the driver's seat and started the car's engine. Before long, the heater began to pump warm air around them.

  "It's fucking treacherous out there," he said as he pulled onto the village street and drove steadily away from the buildings and out of the glare of the streetlights. Only the headlamps gave any illumination. Even the moon was hidden behind ominous-looking clouds. "All we need is snow on this ice, and we're buggered."

  Holly touched his shoulder, not hard enough to startle him and make him swerve, but enough to make his skin tingle and his heart beat faster. "Consider yourself sodomized then. Look." She pointed out the window where fat flakes had begun to gather and fall.

  "Shit. Ah well, only a mile to go." Mac turned off the road and along a track. All he could think was thank goodness he'd brought the tractor along and cleared the snow earlier. Even with that and four-wheel-drive, he could feel the car slide.

  Once they got home, it could snow as hard as it liked if it meant Holly had to stay with him. They wouldn't need to think up spurious excuses. Already his earlier tracks were filling in, and the tire marks were less visible. Mac swore under his breath as he navigated a corner and the car was reluctant to go where he wanted it to. He held the steering wheel firmly. The last thing he desired was for them to have to spend the night in the car even if he did know an ingenious way to conserve body heat.

  "Maybe you'd better just take me home, Mac," Holly said. She sounded worried, and his heart sank. "We don't want to get stuck. I'll need to feed Oscar."

  "You still have the cat? Blimey, he must be getting on a bit."

  "Seventeen, and still a good mouser. But he is a bit faddy with his food."

  "He always was. Salmon not tuna and only the expensive tins, eh? But come on, Holls, don't tell me you came out without leaving him plenty to eat or drink because I won't believe you. Apart from that, isn't Noel stopping at your place?" At least it was concern for the cat that motivated her, not a lack of interest.

  "Well, yes, to all of that, but knowing Noel, he'll not actually get back to bed, and if he did, would he remember to feed Oscar? That's debatable."

  "Ah, come on, Holly. That's not fair. Noel would feed him if..." He trailed off. Noel had great intentions, but would he remember? "Yeah, okay. Maybe text him. If you'll need to." Although, as he squinted to see out of the fast-falling snow, he didn't think there was much maybe about it.

  Neither, it seemed, did Holly. "Maybe? Is that a bit like build a bridge and get over it? You're here for the duration? Well, listen up, Macdonald Hall, just because I'm in all likelihood stranded doesn't mean I'm a damsel in distress. This is tell, not show time. Capiche?"

  Chapter Three

  Holly waited to hear his answer. It wasn't that she felt scared or even remotely as if he would try to force her to do anything she didn't want to. That was not Mac's method and it never had been. However, he did have a way of making you do something you hadn't remotely considered until he suggested it and made it sound oh so sensible. Nevertheless, having decided to listen to him and make a reasoned choice, Holly didn't want anything to spoil that. As it was, her libido threatened to overrule all her good intentions.

  "Holly, hopefully it will be tell, then show." His hands slid over the steering wheel as he negotiated another bend. She admired the way his fingers held on to the wheel, always in control, firm but not tight. Like how she imagined he would touch her. The car began to slew sideways, and he corrected the skid.

  "Whoops. Hold on. This is hellish slippery. I need to get over the bridge, and it's tricky at the best of times. I expected it to be replaced by now. Someone's not going to be happy when I find out why it's still like this." He flashed a grin.

  "Mac Hall, you're enjoying this," Holly accused him. "Bloody men. Kids at heart."

  The car lurched, and Holly grabbed onto the door handle. The seatbelt clicked tight, and she gasped. If this was how it felt to be roped and bound, then she'd pass, thank you very much. The car began to slip sideways before Mac was able to halt its slide. He was cursing under his breath, and Holly had to admire his vocabulary. So many words and so many languages. As he regained control, he exhaled audibly.

  "Not enjoying it exactly, but yeah, it's good to be in charge."

  Hmm, that's what I'm worried about. Not that she wanted that role, but still…

  "I'll pull into the garage, and we can go inside through the utility room," Mac told her as they approached the buildings. "Neither of us will get wet feet then."

  Holly was glad about that. She could hardly feel her toes, even though the car had a very efficient heater, and the fleece was still wrapped around her. Mac was as good as his word, and within minutes, they had pulled into a large garage. There was one other car in it, and Holly whistled.

  "Now that is definitely the rock-star status symbol," she said as she stared at the deep red Aston Martin DB9. "Love the color." She untangled herself from the blanket and folded it neatly. "Thank you, I needed that."

  “You won't once we're inside. I'll make you warm enough, don’t you worry." The words “if you agree” hovered unspoken between them.

  Holly got out of the car and followed him toward the door in the side wall of the garage.

  "It reminds me of your lips," Mac said casually as he opened it to usher her inside the house. "The car, I mean. And the color your ass will look after a spanking."

  Holly spluttered and stood still. Thank goodness she didn't have a mouthful of liquid or his back would be soaking. All she could think of was the pictures he painted in her mind. Of her ass on view and his hand coming down. Another surge of juice soaked her already wet thong, and she squirmed.

  "Does that turn you on, Holls?" Mac pinned her against the wall of the utility room they'd entered, his arm loosely across her throat. "I bet if I put my hand up that tiny pelmet of a skirt you're wearing and under your panties, you'd gush for me, wouldn't you? Soak my hand. And if I rubbed your clit, put my fingers into you, you'd come, fucking my hand. I'm so looking forward to that."

  "Yes, well," Holly said, and cursed her weak and needy tone. Of course he noticed. Damn him. Her ass was on fire at the thought. And, sod him, she was almost coming with his words, never mind any actions. "Dream on. Talk, not show, remember? This time, it's all words, not actions."

  He laughed. "This time. I like that."

  Bollocks. Foot in mouth.

  She didn't say anything and tried not to listen to his amused chuckle. Carol, the cautious one, had always said her habit of opening her mouth before her brain engaged would get her into trouble one day.

  Instead, she ducked under his arm, well aware he chose to let her, walked though the utility, which had a freezer and washing machine in it, and into the kitchen.

  It was scented with pine and spices and was oh so Christmassy. In one corner, a tiny real tree, decorated with glittering white baubles and lights, sat on a table. Above the Aga, an old-fashioned pulley—or dolly-maid clothes airer, as they were sometimes called—hung from the ceiling with a silver icicle on the end of each of the slats. Mac followed her gaze.

  "Interesting, isn't it," he said. It wasn't a question. "Such a great mix of ropes and slats. I have another one in my room, without the decorations."

  As a conversation stopper, that took the gold star. Holly gaped at him.

  "I don't use it for drying clothes either," he said with a hint of humor in his voice. “So far, it's untouched, but I'd like to rectify that."

  Holly's skin tingled, and sharp stings of excitement bombarded her. She rubbed her legs together as a fresh gush of excitement sent her juices into overdrive. At this rate, it wouldn't just be her underwear that was soaked. How on earth could she deny him anything?

  "Really?" She tried for nonchalance and was sure she missed it by a mile. "Instead of a wardrobe maybe?"

  Mac laughed. "Minx. Come on. Let's have a glass of wine and sit by the fire. Then I promise I'll talk to you. Just talk until you say different. I know." He held his finger over her mouth as she opened it to come back with a smart retort. "I mustn't presume."

  Holly couldn't help herself. She nipped the digit—not hard—and then ran her tongue over the spot. He narrowed his eyes.

  "Fuck it, Holly. Do not do that."

  His voice had taken on a tone of command. Her body responded like a flower to sunlight, and she swayed toward him with a breathy sigh.

  Oh yes.

  "Argh, Holly. You are so testing my patience, lady, and around you, it's pretty near nonexistent anyway. Go sit in the lounge. Through that door there. And shut up. Please, or I'll forget every promise I've made you and myself and fuck you five ways till Friday."

  The look of frustration on his face combined with the throb in her clit made her decide to do as he asked. She needed to get her feet out of the instruments of torture laughingly called shoes, and wriggle her toes as near to the fire as she could without getting chilblains. The thought was blissful as she nodded and walked away from him. Holly decided to ignore his muttered, "Thank the fuck for small mercies," and the way his hand slipped under the top of his jeans to adjust his cock. After all, she was going to have to pull her thong out of her clit and ass as soon as she could.

  Chapter Four

  Mac watched her go and knew he had a scowl on his face. He had never had such a prolonged hard-on without easing it since he was a randy teenager and...yeah, had lusted after Holly Collette Winters. It had been just as well, he thought as he un-corked a bottle of alcohol free wine—he’d save the merlot for when she confirmed no play, just chat—that she was Noel's sister. Because of that, it had been hands off. As a randy, hormone-fueled eighteen-year-old with more than a passing interest in all things BDSM, he'd promised Noel he wouldn't touch her until they were older. He didn't think either of them expected he'd have to wait ten years. Was she still a virgin? Although he couldn't expect she'd waited—after all, he wasn't—Mac had no idea for sure, but thought she could well be. She didn't act like someone who knew everything.

  And how would that be, idiot? No one wears a label saying virgin or non-virgin. It was more a feeling he had. Or wishful thinking. He knew she'd had boyfriends. Damn it, he'd even had a few warned off and wasn't ashamed of it. Holly Winters was his until she said otherwise. With a quick mental crossing of his fingers, Mac hoped to hell that wasn't going to happen in the next couple of hours.

  He recorked the bottle, tucked it under his arm, and snagged two glasses before following her into the lounge. To his pleasure, she'd chosen not to sit in a chair but on a cushion on the floor in front of the armchair he usually used.

  Behind her, the lights on the Christmas tree he'd ordered especially in the hope of this meeting twinkled in the firelight. Her namesake was tucked around each picture frame. Christmas cards were hung on silk ribbons down each wall. He had a very cock-arousing idea for those ribbons after the festive period. If...

  Don't even go there.

  "Wine?" He held the bottle up, and she dipped her head. “It’s non alcoholic, just in case.” He didn’t say in case of what and she decided not to ask. “I have merlot for later if we need it.”

  That dip of her head stretched his nerve endings to the limit. I want that all the time, for the right reasons.

  "Go on then. It’ll be champagne of the alcoholic type tomorrow. It’s Christmas, after all. And it looks like we're snowed in." Holly waved toward the uncovered windows where snow was gathering on the glass. "My mum will go ape if I'm not there for dinner tomorrow." She took the glass he offered her. "Ah well."

  "Hours until then," Mac said. "And she's invited me as well. Cheers, Holly. Happy birthday."

  "Oh shit, yeah. Don't remind me. Twenty-eight, and as my gran says, 'Oh lovey, you're getting on a bit to still be single.' Gah. No. I. Am. Not."

  "No, you're not. Noel is the same age and single—allegedly. And before you ask..."

  Holly rolled her eyes and crossed them. It was a trick he'd been most envious of when they were kids. "I know, you're not telling. That's different evidently. Gran says, and I quote, 'he's off all over the world with that band stuff.' He needs to sew his wild oats before settling down with a nice young lady, according to Gran. Poor love. When she was told he was gay, bless her, she said, 'Ah, he's always been cheerful.'"

  Mac almost spewed wine all over her. He'd just taken a mouthful as she spoke. Instead, he choked, and tears streamed down his cheeks. Holly patted him on the back.

  "Oh dear, did it go down the wrong way? Did you blow not suck?" Her eyes sparkled with mirth, and her shoulders shook.

  "Would you like me to show you the difference?" Mac asked in a deliberately deceptive and innocent voice. "I'll be happy to. If I do, though, all else is off. Including your clothes. Be careful, Holly." He lowered his tone, and watched her eyes dilate. Oh yes, pet, you're more than ready for me. "You can only tweak the tiger's tail so often before he rears up and bites you. We're not kids anymore. It's not skinny-dipping in the river or peeking into the boys changing rooms. I want you. In every way a man wants a woman and probably in more ways than most. So now I'm going to sit over there opposite you and tell you what I want." He paused. "What I am."

  The silence was absolute as he stared steadily at her. A coal dropped in the grate, and they both jumped.

  "Okay," Holly said slowly. She straightened her shoulders and spoke. As she did, her voice strengthened. "Yes, okay. Deck me with it, Mac Hall."

  He grinned. "Yeah, and don't think I don't know you lot were singing that little ditty at the carol service. You got me suspended in high school for thumping Jason Harris for writing that on a notice board in the student's lounge. Well, that in addition to the carol service 2 p.m. notice, he’d tacked on, ‘Who is servicing Carol?’"

  Holly gasped. "That was Jason Harris? I'll cut his balls off with a blunt penknife. No, actually thinking about it, I'll let Noel bite them off. He might as well get some enjoyment first."

 

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