Nor had a guy made her lightheaded, but she was now, and that had nothing to do with the couple beers she’d had. No, it was the fullness and heat of Mac’s mouth, the expert way his tongue danced with hers, the way he held her in his arms as if he wanted to make her a part of him.

So many men were removed from lovemaking, as if only they were the ones taking part. Mac threw himself into it completely, taking her pleasure as part of his own. She was an extension of him, her pleasure part of his pleasure.

Which is exactly what she wanted to be. A part of him.

He picked her up and held her as if she weighed nothing—and she definitely weighed way more than nothing— and carried her into the small bedroom. He laid her on the bed, left for a second to retrieve the foil packet containing a condom. She watched him slide it over his cock—damn, even that was sexy—then he crawled onto the bed.

Pinning her arms to her sides, he clamped her in place with his hands over her wrists. She thrilled to his possession.

Something about his dominance was so incredibly erotic.

He laid on top of her, his c**k nestled between her legs, his thighs brushing hers, and she could have cried at the severe need it evoked in her. She bit her lip to keep from begging him to f**k her, to scream that she needed it right now.

But all he did was rub against her. The hairs of his thighs tickled her skin, the head of his c**k slid between her pu**y lips, then he withdrew, only to rub his cockhead against her clit.

She gritted her teeth and glared at him, lifting her hips, demanding he give it to her. Was he really going to make her say it?

He reared back, then slid forward, seating himself fully inside her.

She whimpered, then moaned in utter ecstasy as her body swelled around his cock. It had been so long. So damn long. And before it had been awkward and kind of painful and she’d wanted so much to please him, but it had hurt. And she’d been shy and hadn’t known what she was doing. She’d had so many things rolling around in her head that night ten years ago.

Now she was focused only on Mac, only on the sensations driving her. Now it didn’t hurt. It was utter pleasure.

His c**k was thick and hot, pulsing inside her, stretching her.

Her pu**y gripped him, tightening in protest as he partially withdrew, then thrust. She wrapped her legs around him and lifted her hips, drawing him even deeper.

“You’re so beautiful, Lily,” he said as he looked down on her.

But she was the one in awe of him. Braced on his hands above her, he was all muscle, all working man. Not an ounce of softness on him, but a man who used his hands and his body, whose muscles were forged doing a hard day’s labor, not in a gym. He used every one of those muscles to surge against her.

The room was hot, perspiration coating their skin. Mac bent down and gathered Lily close. He lifted her leg and gripped one of her ass cheeks, drawing her tighter against him.

Their bodies slid together as he powered against her, kissing her with a ravaging passion that she met with eager abandon.

Release hovered. She forced it back, not wanting this moment to end. She wanted to be held, suspended, just like this, for as long as she could. With Mac’s mouth on hers, his hands on her body, his c**k tucked inside her and all the things that kept them apart obliterated from her consciousness.

But, dammit, he ground against her, rubbing against her clit. She tore her mouth from his.

“Mac, stop.”

He stilled. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to make me come.”

His half-smile was devastating. “And that’s bad?”

“I don’t want to. Not yet.” She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair. So soft, so thick, and damp with his sweat.

“Oh, but I need you to come for me, baby. I want to feel your pu**y squeeze my c**k so hard that I can’t hold back and go off inside you.”

Her pu**y quivered in reaction to the dark promise in his words. He rolled against her, each point where their bodies made contact a sizzle of sensation, a heated reminder of their connection.

Slick, wet, they slid against each other, undulating like ocean waves crashing against the shore. Mac moved up and Lily met each thrust, no longer able to hold back the tidal wave of her rushing orgasm. She held onto his arms and rode it out.

He kissed her as she came, taking in her screams, groaning against her as he pinned his pelvis tight against hers, his orgasm making him grit his teeth. His shudders against her, knowing that he was coming that hard inside her, ratcheted up her own cl**ax to a frenzied level, until she was shaking and spent.

Panting, she held onto him, not wanting to break the contact. They were slick with sweat and she thought about being on someone else’s bed, but at the moment she didn’t care. She was in heaven and this was perfect, regardless of location.

Mac pressed soft, lingering kisses across her lips, licking her bottom lip.

“You taste good.”

She smiled. “Like beer?”

“No. Like Lily. A little hot, a little spicy mixed with sweet.”

She sighed.

“And I want to make love to you about a hundred times right now, but we need to give Jim and Sheila their RV back.”

This time, her sigh was one of resignation. “I know.

Should we wash their sheets?”

Mac laughed and rolled off her. “No. They’ll do it.

They used my bed a few times when they were first getting together and I did the honors. They know the score.”

He held out his hand and helped her up, showed her where the bathroom was so they could clean up.

Now that she sort of had her wits about her again, Lily watched Mac dress, keeping a close eye on him as he slid his jacket on. She moved toward him and slid her arms underneath his jacket, wrapping them around his waist. Mac pulled the gun out of the back of his jeans and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

Lily frowned. “I was going for a hug, not to disarm you.”

“Not true. I find you incredibly disarming, Miss West.”

She snorted. “Smartass.”

He wound his arms around her. “You were trying to get my gun. Or find my cell phone. Or the virus.”

“Does that mean you still have the vial? That you didn’t deliver it to anyone here at the rally?”

The casual smile he’d been sporting left his face, replaced by the hard ass look she knew all too well. The impenetrable wall had returned. “The less you know the better.”

“Mac, please.” She didn’t want to push, didn’t want to break the idyllic spell of their lovemaking, but knowledge of the vial’s contents continued to pound at her. She couldn’t let it go. She was a woman and had enjoyed a woman’s pleasure, but she was still an investigator, had been a cop. She wasn’t going to let this go.

He pulled away from her embrace. “You have to trust me on this, Lily.”

She hooked her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans and blew out a breath of utter frustration. She’d held enough inside. “I want to trust you. God, you have no idea how much I want to. After what Jessie told me about you, I know you care about people. I know you wouldn’t deliberately do anything to harm millions of people.”

“You’re right.”

“Then why can’t you have enough faith in me to talk to me? Why is that so hard to do? Why has it always been so hard for you to be straight with me?”

He brushed his fingers through his hair. “It’s too dangerous for you to know.”

“Bullshit. It’s too dangerous for me to be with you. You didn’t have any trouble dragging me along, though.”

He didn’t answer her. Of course he didn’t, because there was no answer. “This is just like ten years ago.” The reality of it slapped her across the face like an ice cold hand.

He frowned. “What?”

“Ten years ago, you pushed me away. You didn’t trust me.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re the one who thinks I’m going to sell the virus to some terrorist organization. The issue of trust is with you, Lily.”

“Is it? Ten years ago you didn’t believe in my feelings for you, or my faith in you. You didn’t trust that I knew what I was doing when I said I loved you and wanted to be with you.

You always thought you knew what was best for me. You thought you knew better than I did. Just like now.”

“That’s not true.”

His voice went low and he looked away, no longer meeting her eyes. She knew Mac. That meant he was lying.

Why did this have to happen? Every time they got close something happened to pull them apart. Maybe they weren’t meant to be together. Her head knew that. Logic told her that.

She was on the good side of law enforcement. Mac was…God only knew what he was, but he wasn’t eager to share it with her, and that meant trouble.

Maybe it was time her heart caught up to cold reality.

They had great chemistry together, but beyond that, they couldn’t sustain more than a couple hours worth of happiness without it dissolving into an argument. They were polar opposites in thinking and values.

Maybe her father had been right all those years ago.

She and Mac didn’t belong together. They had nothing in common, no shared belief systems.

He didn’t believe in her.

And right now, she didn’t believe in him.

She went to the door and threw open the dead bolt.

Mac’s hand covered hers.

“Where are you going?”

“Out. The air in here is stifling.”

“Then we go together. I don’t want you to go out there alone.”

She half turned, making sure he could read the expression on her face.

“You don’t trust me. You’re not being solicitous or looking out for my welfare. You just think I’m going to find the nearest phone and turn you in.” She pivoted all the way around. “I could have done that the night at the museum, you know.”

At his wide-eyed look, she nodded. “Oh yeah. I saw you break in. My hand was on my cell phone. I could have had the cops there waiting the moment you stepped out of the museum with the artifact in your hand.”

He stared at her, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Why didn’t you?”

She blinked back the welling tears, refusing to let him see her cry. “Because instinctively I knew it was you. The sounds of the motorcycle, something about the way you stood.

My heart told me it was you. I compromised my job, probably my career, for you. Because I couldn’t bear to see you fail.

How stupid was that?”

She turned and walked out the door.

This time, Mac didn’t follow.

Chapter Seven

Mac watched Lily walk out, then dragged his fingers through his hair.

Ah, hell. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy with Lily. But he thought they’d reached an understanding, or at least some warmth. To hell with warmth. Things had reached inferno level.

But every time they got hot, each time they seemed to grow closer, something happened to put a wedge between them.

He put it there. And maybe it should just stay there.

Keeping distance between them would probably be easier on Lily when the time came that he had to let her go.

Or maybe it would be easier on him. Because short of telling her who he was now and who he worked for—which was impossible—there was no choice but to keep her in the dark. Which meant she was going to maintain that level of mistrust. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it other than continue to ask her to believe in him, when she had absolutely no reason to.

He’d let her leave the RV, because she needed to cool off. And after what she’d said about the museum, he didn’t think she’d run and find the nearest phone and give him up.

Because he did trust Lily. If he told her everything, she’d be fully on his side.

But he’d taken an oath and that meant something to him. No matter how he felt, no matter what his personal needs and wants were, he couldn’t betray the Wild Riders. Because it wasn’t just his ass on the line. Other people counted on his discretion. He had no choice.

So…same frustrating as hell status quo. He returned Jim’s RV keys and searched for Lily. It didn’t take long to find her, since she wasn’t far from Jim. She was hanging out with Jessie near the front of the band stand, virtually guaranteeing they wouldn’t be able to talk. Jessie tilted her head in his direction as he approached. Lily had her arms crossed over her chest and didn’t bother to make eye contact with him. She didn’t turn around or acknowledge his presence, just kept her focus on the band. Her posture was tight and strained. She wasn’t enjoying the music at all, wasn’t relaxed.

He knew she was mad and would probably stay that way for a while. Nothing he could do about that and he refused to apologize for doing his job. So he let her listen to the music, let Jessie lean in and talk to her. He stayed behind them, keeping an eye on her and the crowd.

Not that it was unusual for him to keep watch. He’d been doing that from the moment they’d hightailed it out of the museum alley. Since then he’d been keeping one eye behind him the entire time, wondering if whoever had shot at them had been following. He doubted it, because if they had he’d have spotted them by now.

Maybe. He didn’t believe in sure things or getting off easily, so he just assumed the bad guys might follow them.

And he’d continue to keep looking, because he had two things to protect—the virus, and Lily. Like it or not, Lily was stuck with him, and she’d just have to remain uninformed until he let her go.

The warmth of the day had long ago been sucked away with the setting sun. Lily pulled on the jacket she’d been carrying, huddling inside it as a stiff breeze picked up. It might be almost summer, but it still got cold at night. And with the cold shoulder she was giving him, Mac figured there’d be no cuddling for warmth in their tent tonight.