Alec cut him off with an impatient gesture. “You can’t sit around waiting for Mahalia to call back. You need to get Mackenzie in a car and start driving, now.”
“What is it?”
His partner jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate Kat, who sat on a bench across the street, looking shaken. “If she’s feeling what Kat says she’s feeling, that girl is a ticking time bomb. I’d wager that whatever has been keeping her from shifting all these years is starting to fail.”
Jackson stared at him, confused. “That would make her horny?”
Alec returned his stare evenly. “You really want to waste time on the dirty details of shapeshifting and the adrenaline rush that comes with it, or do you want to get that girl some damn help? The longer you wait between changes, the harder it can be. Twenty-five years of it is something I don’t really want to imagine.”
He had a point. “Oh, Alec. Man, I am not the person to be handling this, not alone. I…” The words died on his tongue. He was nearly thirty damn years old; was he really about to tell his partner he needed a chaperone in order to be able to keep his hands off Mackenzie? Instead, he swallowed. “Can I borrow your car?”
“Sure.” Alec pulled the keys out of his pocket. “She’s hot and you’re interested, but this isn’t the time to indulge, Jackson. Sex isn’t going to make her feel better. In fact, it might make it a whole lot worse. If you have to, drug her ass or use magic or something. It’s for her own damn good.”
“Okay.” Jackson took the keys, his mind whirling. “Get to Mahalia so she can bolster whatever is holding the cougar at bay, and absolutely no sex.” He sighed, but the sound held more than a little bit of a growl. “I hate life right now. I’ll call you from the road.”
Mackenzie resisted the urge to change positions again. It didn’t help. Instead she wrapped her hands around the strap of her bag and stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Jackson. Every time she did, the arousal that had been on low simmer all afternoon burst into full-on desire, and she could barely keep her hands to herself.
Even thinking about touching him made primal satisfaction unfurl slowly inside her. She stubbornly headed it off. “Can you explain this to me again?” she asked in a low voice, wrapping her fingers more tightly around her bag. “Maybe thinking will help. Or distract me.”
“Explain what?” His eyes didn’t leave the road. “The ants in your pants?”
She let out a strangled laugh. “That’s one way to put it. You said Alec thinks it’s some…spell or something?”
“Well, no. The spell would be what normally keeps you from getting this way.” He checked his mirror and signaled to pass. “It’s some sort of shapeshifter thing. The animal has to get out. When she doesn’t, you get restless.” He arched an eyebrow. “Sometimes really restless, I guess.”
Mackenzie groaned as she slid lower in the seat and closed her eyes. Every instinct in her body screamed for action. Her vivid imagination provided endless scenarios for how she could soothe the hot need twisting her into knots. The scene unfolded behind her eyelids like an erotic movie—pulling off the road, finding someplace secluded… She could almost smell the clean scent of his skin, could imagine how it would feel under her lips when she slid into his lap and nuzzled her face into his neck.
The earlier fantasies of long, hot lovemaking vanished. The frantic need inside her would be satisfied by nothing less than equally frantic sex. She wanted his hands and mouth on her skin, wanted to feel him writhing helplessly beneath her as she moved above him, driving them both into limp exhaustion.
A tiny whimper escaped as she fought back the image of his face, eyes hazy with pleasure and lips forming her name as she rode him to completion in the front seat of the car. “Oh, God. You have no idea how restless.”
He shot her a sharp look. “I suppose I… Hey, how about some music?” He cranked up the volume on the radio, and a song with a low, throbbing beat spilled out of the speakers. He stared straight ahead as he stabbed a button with his finger, changing the station to one featuring talk radio.
Mackenzie stared out the window into the night and took a deep breath. “I don’t suppose you—I mean, it’s a bit of an odd proposition, but would you consider—” She snarled. “The sexual frustration is going to kill me.”
Jackson reached for his phone, hit a button and slapped it to his ear. After a moment, he said, “Yeah, it’s me. Look, about what you said… Yeah, what can she do about that? You know, that won’t—” He paused, obviously listening. “Yeah. Oh no, uh-uh. Okay, yeah. Later.” He snapped the phone closed. “Sorry, no sex. The bottom line is that you could die, and that would suck. You also can’t take care of it yourself, because you could weaken the spell even further.”
A tiny part of her curled in on itself in embarrassment when she realized Jackson and Alec had just had a discussion about whether or not she could masturbate. The rest of her just wondered if she could talk Jackson into taking the chance that she might not die.
“Jesus Christ.” She closed her eyes again. “Can we pull over at the next town, maybe get some food? The close quarters aren’t helping.”
“Absolutely,” he said immediately. “I think food is a great idea. We can walk around and stretch our legs too. Terrific idea, Mackenzie.”
“Terrific idea,” she agreed faintly. Except we’re not even halfway there and I’m already losing my mind. It was going to be a very long night.
The diner was small and cozy, and looked to cater mostly to truckers. Their waitress showed them to a booth without a word, setting two menus down before returning unprompted with a pot of coffee.
Mackenzie glanced at it, but caffeine wasn’t something she needed to add to her system. “Have you got any milkshakes?” she asked hopefully.
“Sure, honey. Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Vanilla, please.” She glanced across the booth at Jackson. “You drinking coffee?”
“Yeah. Got a lot of driving to do if we want to make it to Boca anytime soon.” He favored the waitress with a smile as he turned over his mug. “Fill ’er up, darlin’, and I’ll have an omelet as big as my head, with bacon, peppers and cheese, please.”
The waitress’s bored expression melted into an answering smile as she filled Jackson’s cup, Mackenzie apparently forgotten. She seemed terribly impressed by Jackson’s easy smile, and set aside the coffee pot as she jotted down his order. “Anything else with that, sweetheart? Sausage? Pancakes? We got some of the best muffins in the state here, if I do say so myself. Bake ’em fresh every night.”
“He said he wants an omelet.” At first, Mackenzie didn’t even realize she’d spoken. Her voice barely sounded like her own, low and dangerous with a hint of menace. Color flooded her cheeks, and she avoided Jackson’s eyes, wishing she could sink into the booth and disappear.
Jackson choked on his coffee, but recovered quickly enough to throw his head back with a laugh. “Now, now, sweet tart, I’ll stick to my low-carb diet, but the nice lady’s just doing her job.” His smile turned sheepish. “That’s what I get for marrying a health nut, I guess.”
The woman turned back to Mackenzie, her expression cool. “And what would you like with your milkshake, ma’am?”
The urge to snarl at her again was so overwhelming Mackenzie dug her teeth into her lip and flashed Jackson a pleading look.
“She’ll have a couple of those muffins,” he said quickly. “Damn hypocrite’s what she is, huh?”
As soon as the waitress retreated, Mackenzie folded her arms on the table and dropped her forehead to rest on them. “What in hell is happening to me?” she demanded, though she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. The intense desire to slide across the table and rub herself against Jackson to warn off the waitress was too disturbing for words.