Chapter 10 - 11am

Lake Ozark

Missouri

11am.

Mac finally knew the time and was able to count off each second with a laser sharp precision that only came from a good night's sleep. She raised her arms and stretched feeling her back crack and her muscles lengthen. That heavy lethargy from the day before was gone as if it never existed and for the first time in months, she felt safe. Really safe.

A light purr of the engines made her realize the vessel was moving and as she pulled back the heavy curtains of the sliding glass doors, she saw the ripple of water. The houseboat moved gently across the lake and Mac watched, mesmerized as they passed the homes that dotted the water.

Eventually the engines were cut and a silence stretched out across the floating home save for the sounds of anchor chains straining and tightening. She felt when the anchor caught and that easy movement turned into a gentle bobbing on the water that nearly put her to sleep again.

Nearly because the rumbling of her stomach woke with a vengeance when a sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon spread through the boat. It made a soft smile spread across her lips and reminded her of better times before their break.

She rolled out of bed noting that she wore one of his shirts that was ridiculously large on her. The hem came just above mid thigh and it hung off one shoulder so that Mac had to pull it back in place after using the head.

Harm was in the kitchen dipping a thick slice of brioche into an egg mixture and then dropping it on a hot skillet. Once he dropped another, he turned his attention to a bowl of freshly washed strawberries that he cut into small peices and tossed into a pan with a small amount of sugar.

She leaned against the counter and watched him work. If there was one thing Mac loved about him was Harm's comfort in the kitchen. What became a survival tool as a bachelor had evolved and the man was positively skilled.

"You know," Harm began as he stirred the berries. "I've only ever made this for you." A thick, decadent French toast with a strawberry puree along with a few slices of bacon.

"I know. Can I help with anything?"

"Do the dishes afterwards." He grinned and placed a steaming mug of coffee on the bar and urged Mac to sit on a stool. She drank and sighed, having realized it had been over two days since she'd had any sustenance in her body. This feast would be heavenly.

Harm watched her eat once the toast was done. Smiling as she dunked the brioche into the extra puree he put into a bowl. She ate as if it were her last meal, savoring each bite with an occasional moan which made his heart race.

The woman was adorable sometimes with her messy bedhead, oversized shirt and the corner of her mouth dotted with puree. It was the opposite of the immaculate Marine who never had so much as a ribbon out of place and Harm liked the ease she fell into around him.

He let out a breath and said a small prayer, thanking God the last year hadn't completely damaged them.

Keeping in touch was rare, calls to burner phones few and far between until he couldn't bear not hearing the sound of her voice. Many times he'd call and say nothing, other times the conversations were terribly short but it gave him hope that they'd meet again.

Harm didn't expect a year to pass. He didn't expect to spend so much time sitting outside of her apartment waiting to pass along some message. He didn't expect that the agency would track her every move for months until they eventually gave up.

It was then that he made contact one evening after Webb left Mac's apartment. He sent flowers with a note written in his own hand. A date and address scribbled across the white cardstock that she acknowledged by repeatedly flipping the apartment lights off and on.

"You're staring." Mac noticed as she placed the utensils on the edge of the plate.

Harm stood in the kitchen leaning against a counter with a cup of coffee in hand. A sly grin spread across his lips that he didn't bother hiding. "I am. You're wearing my shirt."

She glanced down and tugged the t-shirt back into place when it had slipped down her shoulder again. "Is that a problem?"

"Not when you look that good in it, no."

God she missed this, his sexy little flirting that made her blush when Harm spoke in a tone Mac knew was his bedroom voice. She ignored the butterflies in her stomach, finished the meal and then dutifully rushed to wash the plates.

"Hand me the dish rag, I'll dry."

They stood side by side. Mac's hands were covered in suds while Harm dragged the cloth to wipe each plate he was handed. Their elbows touched, occasionally her hip bumped against his but it was the way his hand touched her that held an intimacy he missed.

The shirt she wore slipped again and Harm's eyes fixated on her exposed shoulder, her collar and that elegant swoop of her neck that his lips longed to taste. She smelled good. Mac always smelled good and he closed his eyes to breathe in the scent he missed so much.

Besides their kiss when Mac arrived, they hadn't shared a proper hello. At least, not the one Harm imagined that began with a passionate kiss and ended with her stark naked in his bed and happily sated. He opened his eyes only to find her looking, brown irises darkening to molten chocolate that Harm couldn't deny. He resisted for too long in the past and all of his reasons made zero sense anymore. Mac was his and he'd given anything in the World to keep it that way.

"I want you." His voice was low and husky, a timbre that made her quiver and sent a rush of liquid heat pulsing through her body. The hand that was reaching for another plate dropped it into the sudsy water when he reached for her.

Mac was barely given a chance to dry her hands or even reply with a witty retort when he raised her up and sat her down on the counter. The hem of her shirt moved indecently upwards so he took that as an invitation to stand between her parted legs. Eyes were held in a heated gaze when Harm's hands came to her knees rolling the palms over each joint to then slowly slide up her thigh.

He stopped at the circular mark, the remnant of a bullet wound from a deranged poacher and the start of one of their many adventures. That would be the first time that he held her, slept next to her and a jolt of something he couldn't identify began to spread across his heart. Maybe that was the first time he knew that he loved her?

"Harm-"

His lips cut off her words when he kissed her with an intensity that took her breath away and made Mac cling to him. Her fingers dug into his back and even through the fabric of his shirt, she felt the change in his body, the muscles that she could trace with ease along with other bumps that she was too aroused to question.

Mac pulled him closer, wanting to feel all of him and was mildly annoyed when Harm brushed her hand away from his growing erection. "Harm, please, I want to…oh-"

Her complaint was cut short and a gasp slipped from her lips when one finger lightly caressed her damp panties. It was the gentlest of touches but her sensitive skin made every gentle pass feel like a pulsating, electric current. She wanted more. She needed to feel the rough skin of his fingers against her heated flesh. She wanted the kind of high no drug could ever compare to.

She wanted him.

"No. Don't stop." Her smaller hand guided him, pressing his palm against her mound, fingers parting the elastic of the triangle that covered her so that one long digit moved between moist flesh.

Harm was slow and meticulous, finding a groove that would gradually bring her over the ledge until Mac was a panting mess from his lover's touch.

She was gripping his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin when he made her come a second and third time with just his fingers.

"Oh God." Mac said, pulling Harm close enough for her head to rest in the crook of his shoulder. "It's been too long."

He sighed and felt the vise across his heart lessen when her lips touched the crook of his neck. "Yeah. It has. It feels like forever and not the good kind of forever." The whole thing made him want to cry because the trade off was far worse than he ever thought possible.

"A year, two months and-"

"No, Mac. Stop. I don't want to know."

"I wish I didn't know. I wish I could stop the countdown in my head because it's been ticking away incessantly." It was a pathetic way to live, Mac knew but, every night as she lay in bed, her internal clock would tick away each second of every moment that they were apart.

"I'm sorry." Harm said, his tone unable to hide the melancholy. There was nothing else to say despite only sharing half the blame in this malady.

Mac's head came up from his shoulder and her eyes focused on his. She hated his brooding, the weight he placed on his own shoulders as he wore the tragic hero badge with honor. In time she hoped to break him of that trait and help Harm be happy for once.

Her hands gently cupped his face as she studied the scar across his cheek. It was odd to see

him sporting a beard though she knew the fascial hair was only there to hide the faded mark.

That saddened her, the physical marring of his appearance and what could have caused it. She might have asked. She should have asked but instead her lips took his and she felt the weight of the World fall from his shoulders as the embers were stoked back to life.

Each kiss was passionate, intoxicating, demanding. She only pulled away to raise her arms so that Harm could rid her of the shirt which now felt like a barrier.

"I think you've gotten more beautiful." He said and ignored her thinner figure that he planned to fatten up with french toast and burgers and any other unhealthy concoction he intended to feed her. "So beautiful, Sarah."

His dark head bent to taste the sweet skin of her breast, mouth closing in over one nipple that he slowly worked into a stiff peak. She moaned under his touch, arched her back so that he could have more of her.

And she wanted more indeed.

Foreplay was fun for lazy afternoons but Mac was wanton to feel the rest of him and have the hardness of his length buried deep within. Shaky hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, clawing at the offending material until Harm backed away to yank it off his body.

She was right, he had filled out, evident by the new ripples in his abs, the boulder-like definition of his shoulders and pecs. Her hands couldn't keep from tracing each line, each crease of definition as she followed the patch of hair that led south.

While Harm the sailor wore stark white boxer shorts, Harm the spy had different undergarments, dark grey boxer briefs that outlined his growing erection and wrapped around the taut muscles of his thighs.

"God, you're beautiful." She said as his breath caught once Mac's fingers traced under the elastic band of his boxer briefs. She eased them down, stopping only when Harm's length sprung to life. Her palm wrapped around him. Her thumb catching a bead of moisture that made him quiver.

Mac was barely touching him, her small hand stroking in a painfully slow pace that was making the edges of his vision darken. He made a sound like something of a pitiful groan when she released him to finish riding herself of the undergarment she still wore.

"Oh Mac." He wanted her. He wanted her badly with a kind of ferocity that couldn't be sated until his length was sheathed in her.

Harm stepped out of his underwear, kicking it aside. His strong arms wrapped around her middle, her legs wrapped around him. "Bedroom."

Between kisses and caresses he managed to walk them halfway but a light nip on his shoulder accompanied by a groan made him stop. "No, too far."

He didn't argue. He couldn't because the moment he stopped moving Mac's hand took him again and it was neither slow nor gentle. Suddenly the bed felt a million miles away and when her sex slide over his, Harm became undone.

He pushed her against the wall of the hallway and in an instant her hand guided him into her. Harm pressed a hand between them, a finger finding her clit as he entered her in small thrusts.

Her climax was violent, the kind that made her body shake from tiny aftershocks but he barely let her ride out the sweet ecstasy. A second later, Harm slid all the way in, not stopping until the tip of him hit her womb.

"This won't be gentle." He warned even as he pulled out and pushed deep into her. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her when his hips pushed up once more and then stopped.

"I don't care."

And with that, he was lost. Lost in her, in them and a union he missed so badly it kept him up at night. The silky wetness of her walls wrapped around him, her hands held onto his shoulders and Mac met him thrust for thrust. Staccatoed cries filled the vessel, his and hers finally culminating in a muffled scream as his fingers found her sensitive bud again.

He came hard, shaking as Mac drained him completely dry and the edges of his vision began to darken. And then he eased them down, his length still hard, his body still craving hers. Mac lay on the hall floor, her legs parted for him, her open arms begging for another round of sweet lovemaking.

Harm couldn't resist. She was far too great of a temptation and when her hips raised to meet him. their bodies joined once again.