Chosen (Second Sight) (16 page)

“I can hardly argue with that,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “It’d be like arguing with my own heart.”

Mac’s steady gaze froze her in place. Though she knew she must be gaping, she couldn’t stop. The look on his face–it was…unlike anything she’d
ever
seen.
 

In his eyes, there was passion so fierce and so unmistakable that her breath caught. Yearning so strong, her skin tingled. Her pulse raced as the unblinking intensity in his eyes
burned
into hers, as real as any fire. And, as though they had actually been touched by heat, her eyes stung and she found her vision blurred with tears.

• • • • •

Though Isabelle’s face still looked troubled and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, Mac was never more sure of anything in his life.

He lifted the scrub top from the bottom and, as Isabelle lifted her arms, he easily pulled it up. As it cleared her head, she shook out her long, silky hair and he let the garment drop to the floor. She undid the buttons on his jeans as he tugged loose the drawstring of her pants and slid them down over her hips. He yanked the tight t-shirt off, over his head.

They were on the verge of something
.

Mac could feel it. Like crossing into unknown territory but–she pushed his jeans and briefs down and they fell to the floor–he
knew
they were ready.

He ran his fingers through her dark, satiny hair. It was cool and silky, draping down her neck and over her shoulder. He touched the delicate curve at the nape of her neck, smoothed his fingertips along her collar bone, and realized she had goosebumps.
 

The night air had become brisk.

“Here,” he said lowly, leading her to the bed.

He flipped back the covers and carefully set the key on the nightstand.

She scooted between the sheets and he followed her, drawing the linens and blankets over them both. The fabric was chilly to the touch and Isabelle curled into his chest.

He loved this about her–the way she effortlessly melded her body to his. They fit together but, more than that, they
belonged
together. Though his arousal probed forward against her tummy, she snuggled close. As he rubbed her back, her breasts pressed softly against him. Though his body was more than ready to respond, he forced himself to go slow.

This is only the beginning. We have all the time in the world.

Isabelle seemed to relax as the heat that radiated from him warmed her. He brushed back several fine strands of hair from her neck. Just beneath the skin, he saw her jugular rhythmically pulse. Slowly, he lowered his face to her neck and, ever so lightly, he placed his lips on the pulsing vein.

He closed his eyes to the feel of her life throbbing against his mouth. Her skin had the smoothness of cream and his tongue slipped forward to taste it. With a long and lingering kiss, he savored the sweet taste of her. His tongue traced a short line along the pulsing in her neck and he kissed her again.

Her soft, warm sigh whispered against his chest.

His mouth moved lower, tenderly sampling her, as his fingers released the bra clasp at her back. His tongue lapped slowly along her collar bone and he gently rolled her to her back. Under the covers, he couldn’t see her slender body but his fingers lightly traced its contours–around the curve of her waist, slowly up her ribs, and finally to the incredibly soft swell of her breast. He scooped the warm flesh in his palm, caressing it.
 

Her long, breathy inhale accompanied a slow arching of her back. As he scooted lower under the sheets, he nuzzled behind her ear. For a moment, she seemed to freeze but her head slowly turned away from him to allow him more access. As his hand moved to her other breast and gently squeezed, he nibbled her ear lobe.

Slowly his thumb drifted across her delicate and dimpled nipple. Again, Isabelle’s back slowly arched as he reveled in the luxurious feel of the tip of her breast. It was like
velvet
and, despite knowing how sensitive she was, he couldn’t help but fondle it. His fingers circled it and rubbed it and it swelled in his grasp. The tiny nub of its center emerged and, as he gently kneaded it, Isabelle gasped.

Mac let her earlobe tug free of his lips, settled them on her neck, and lightly sucked. Though her breast quivered in his hand, he let it go, tracing his index finger down the center of her chest, down into the hollow of her abdomen, and then the tiny dip of her belly button.

But he didn’t pause. His mouth sucked harder on the skin of her neck, the flesh beneath it tensing now, and her breathing becoming deeper. His index finger ran down the center of her abdomen, over the fabric of her panties, and past the downy cushion of her mound.

Rather than arch her back, Isabelle tipped her hips upward, pushing into his hand. Mac smiled against her throat, letting her ride higher, his fingers poised just over her entrance. But as her legs spread in anticipation, he slowly squeezed.

• • • • •

At Mac’s touch, warmth flooded into her entrance and Isabelle couldn’t help but squirm. She tried to stay in contact with him, feel the pressure of his hand on her sweet spot, but her hips needed to move. And rather than slake the need that was coiling inside, she managed to rub herself against him, and wind the tension higher.
 

“
Mac
,” she whispered breathlessly.
 

Her hand flew to her side and immediately found his arousal.

The gloves.

Mac hissed against her throat and his fingers pushed into her entrance. Her hips surged upward as she squeezed and stroked his iron-hard flesh.

His hand pushed her hips back to the bed and his fingers curled hard into her. She massaged his stiff rod with short, fast movements, and felt him exhale against her throat.

“Isabelle,” he breathed.
 

He pealed down her panties and Isabelle had just enough presence of mind to quickly strip the gloves. As Mac moved over her and settled his hips between her knees, she eagerly spread her fingers through the fine, soft hair covering his pecs.

Though the reading began immediately, Isabelle felt Mac’s hot flesh slide up along her thigh and connect with her entrance. Her hips bucked up under his, urging him to complete their union and, in the next instant, he was inside her.

Intense pleasure exploded in her consciousness. As their bodies came together, Mac’s need to be with her flooded through her thoughts. Images of them flashed by–flesh against flesh, bare skin sliding over bare skin, her naked body seen from his eyes. She saw her hand in his just as he grabbed it and pinned it to the bed above her head, followed quickly by the other.
 

He plunged into her then and her back arched so wildly that their chests collided. Her hips flew into a frenzied furor, stroking him with the very core of her, feeling his excitement mount as if it were her own. Like feedback spiraling out of control, she beat her hips against his, bucking him upward.

Her breath came in fits and starts and his was harsh and uneven. He thrust wildly, his thoughts at the edge of readability, the animal desire in him surging to the front. The raw power of his need took her breath away. His fingers intertwined with hers as a primal rhythm stoked them both. His hips thrust mercilessly, pounding her, making the air fly from her lungs even as he grunted as well. Her hips whipped upward to take all of him, feeling him push into the very center of her. His entire body thrashed in a fierce paroxysm and Isabelle felt him lose control. It was glorious, as though a weight had been lifted, and as he moved deep within her, she jerked violently with the first of her clenches.

They cried out together, the ecstasy of the perfect timing too much. They ground their bodies on each other, all barriers gone, as the approaching tidal wave of their climax swept higher. His penetration plunged upward, searching for her deepest place
just
as she surrendered it to him. Their lungs heaved as one, as though their joined orgasm would drown them, and she clamped on him again.
 

A great, guttural grunt was wrenched from him as his torso collapsed onto hers. His hips pumped relentlessly and her abdomen responded with a chain of shattering convulsions. His hands gripped hers hard and she knew every sensation in his body as if it were her own.
 

Pain shot through him, through his shaft, as his sudden release spewed forth like a molten fountain. It burned in her, flooding higher, deeper, and blazing into her heated core. He exploded inside her, bursting through a final threshold of passion. His swollen shaft convulsed but her body captured it, seized it in mid-release and milked him. He buried his face in her neck, let her hands go, and wrapped his arms quickly around her. Great shuddering spasms rocked them both and Isabelle clung to his back for dear life.
 

Fiery hot, waves of splendor crashed through her abdomen. Her sweet spot pulsated in a blood-rushing crescendo. Mac screamed her name, barely audible over her voice screaming his. The wild wave had utterly claimed them and their bodies thrashed violently in its grasp. Almost frightening in its intensity, the peak of ecstasy finally crested. A profound quaking rocked them both as Isabelle sensed the approach of their oblivion.

Total release flooded through them both as Isabelle let her hands fall to the bed. Despite their heaving gasps, she floated on a wave of euphoria. She had no idea how much time had passed when she finally became aware of Mac stroking her hair. As the gray of the reading slowly faded and her eyesight returned, she found herself staring up into his face.

In a moment of complete disorientation, Isabelle suddenly saw herself in Mac’s eyes. Though her hands lay limp between the sheets, it felt like a reading. Except her vision didn’t fade and, as she watched, Mac slowly smiled. His face was completely open to her, full of the same contentment and deep happiness that she felt welling up inside. And finally, Isabelle realized that Mac was reading the same in her. Their thoughts still one. Their union complete.

Isabelle woke with a start–as usual. A dream about the shock wand. She lay still for a moment, staring into the dark bedroom, waiting to see if she’d woken Mac. But he lay still and, after several moments, she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. If she woke him up, he never failed to get up with her but, for once, he was still asleep.

As quietly as possible, she got up, took her robe from the foot of the bed, and tip-toed out, closing the door behind her.
 

At the kitchen, she flipped on the light. Though she’d intended to fill the kettle with water, she noticed the small frame and the photo, still on the table.
 

She had to smile.
 

Right now, Kayla was with her new son.
 

Isabelle drifted toward the table, grinning down at the photo of Kayla and Daniel, his arm around her shoulder, both of them beaming.

Kayla will want this. And her son eventually too.
 

The empty frame stood upright with a generic black and white photo of a bride and groom. Isabelle decided to remove the broken glass and put the photo back. But she stopped before she began. Her gloves were in the bedroom.
 

It could wait until morning. There was no hurry now. Kayla didn’t even know it still existed and whoever had thrown it away was far away in the commune.

Isabelle tilted her head and stared at the photo and then the frame.

Why would anyone take the photo out before they threw them both away?

She could understand trying to reuse the frame. Or maybe saving the image, if the frame were broken. But why separate them and
then
get rid of them?

On an impulse, Isabelle picked up the picture.

Though she’d fully expected a brief reading of Kayla, putting the picture into the frame. That wasn’t who she saw at all. As the gray haze of the reading took over her vision, it wasn’t Kayla who’d last touched the photo. It was someone whose trace she’d recognize anywhere.

“
Daniel
,” she whispered.

He’d seen the framed image in the trash can at the dormitory. He’d picked it up. Taken the photo out. Someone was coming. He panicked. He threw them both in the trash.

The photo slipped from Isabelle’s fingers.

Daniel was
alive
.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

If you loved
Chosen
then join me for more sizzling hot romance! My
newsletter
will let you know about new releases and
only
new releases. Don’t miss the next!

Visit
HazelHunter.com
to find more great stories available
today
.

• • • • •

Previously in the series,
join psychic Isabelle de Grey and FBI profiler Gavin “Mac” MacMillan as they hunt a serial killer in the heart of Los Angeles. Even as the search grows dangerous and they race to save lives, fiery passion quickly consumes them in Books 1, 2, and 3 of the Second Sight series. Get them now at Amazon!