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Fan Forum Hero
 
Joined: Jan 2005
Posts: 50,370
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Mac♥Jericho Appreciation #15: 'Cause she's HIS now!
 ^ made by let me sign When Mackayla Lane first met Jericho Barrons all she wanted was to get justice and revenge for whoever killed her sister. She soon realized that the day she met him her life, what she knew of it anyway would be over and she would discover things about herself, about her family and the world she lived in is nothing like she thought. But since teaming up with Jericho, who taught her more about who and what she is than anyone else, she soon discovers that he isn't just helping her survive but helping her grow up. With their teasing banter, wordless conversations and the sexual tension that is constantly around them, this is one pairing that you'd be crazy not to fall in love with.  1. Guinevere 2. -Andie- 3. globe2912 4. Fading Letters 5. let me sign 6. Gabriela 7. chrissy1302 8. Enigma 9. Endless Fighter 10. kiss and tell 11. colorblind 12. Morgan_T 13. never think 14. Freaky Wednesday 15. PJ_Believer 16. madkisso 17. Mushkah 18. missy7280 19. snatches of sunshine 20. lakers0604 21. leyton4ever! 22. crazycait714 23. Daph 24. Eviekins15 25. ashleyt 26. Honey-Girl 27. Denise 28. lisagslack14 29. blue sky blues 30. Burning Up A Sun 31. Queen Bee 32. SergeantPepper 33. RachaelAM 34. only dreaming 35. Stacie18 36. Alessia20 37. ~TaintedUnicorn~ 38. Arriana 39. Lostcandy 40. weena 41. MTG11687 42. Christian'sKimberDoll  He Studied me with his predators gaze, assessing me from head to toe. I studied him back. He didn’t just occupy space, he saturated it. The room had been full of books before, but now it was full of him. About thirty, six feet two or three, he had dark hair, golden skin and dark eyes. His features were strong, chiselled. I couldn’t pinpoint his nationality anymore than I could his accent, some kind of European crossed with old world Mediterranean or maybe an ancestor with dark gypsy blood. He wore an elegant, dark grey Italian suit, a crisp white shirt, and a muted pattern tie. He wasn’t handsome. That was too calm a word. He was intensely masculine. He was sexual. He was attracted. There was an omnipresent carnality about him, in his dark eyes, in his dark mouth, in the way he stood. He was the kind of man I wouldn’t flirt with in a million years. I am unaccustomed to asking for what I want. Nor am I accustomed to bartering with a woman, he said finally. Lips compressed, face tight with fury, he dragged me up off the couch with a hand in my hair, grabbed my throat with the other, and began walking me backward toward the wall. He thrust me against the wall and held me there, a hand at my throat, his dark gaze moving restlessly over my face, my neck, the rise and fall of my breasts beneath my lace camisole. Moving majorly over my breasts. I might have snorted if oxygen had been in plentiful supply. There was no way Jericho Barrons thought I was a hottie. We couldn’t have been less each other’s type. If he was Antartica, I was Sahara. “Try to act like you like me” When he put his arm around me and pulled me close, the shiver went clear down to my toes When he returned his attention to the box, I caught my breath and stared blankly at the top of his dark head. Barrons had just given me the most carnal, sexually charged, hungry look I’d ever seen in my life and I was pretty sure he didn’t know even he had done it. My breasts felt hot and flushed and my mouth was suddenly uncomfortable and dry. Jericho Barrons might be only seven or eight years older than me, and he might be what most women consider extremely attractive in a dark, forbidding way, but he and I came from two different worlds; we didn’t see life the same way. After a long puzzled moment, I shook my head, thrust the inexplicit look from my mind - there was simply no room for it in my reality. With his left arm around my waist, his right hand on my shoulder, fingers lightly brushing the swell of my breast, he steered me toward the entrance, locking gazes with men brave or stupid enough to let his gaze dip below my eyes, holding it until the man looked away. He could not more clearly branded me as his possession. I think he kissed me then. But it wasn’t like any kiss I’d ever felt before. I wouldn’t call him Jericho if he didn’t like it. But I wanted him to call me Mac, I insisted, sleepily. “Mac” he said my name and laughed. “What a name for something like you. Mac” he laughed again  Barrons and I have this unique way of communicating. We have these little nonverbal conversations, where we say all those things we don’t say with our mouths with our eyes instead, and we understand each other perfectly. He didn’t say If you ever burn one of my quarter of a million dollar rugs again I’ll take it out on your hide, and I didn’t say Oh honey wouldn’t you like to? And he didn’t say Grow up Ms Lane, I don’t take little girls to my bed, and I didn’t say I wouldn’t go there if it was the only safe place from the Lord Master in all of Dublin. “I guess I’m just a little spooked, Barrons. That’s all. Let’s go home. There’s nothing here” “Home, Ms Lane?” His deep voice was gently amused. “I have to call it something,” I said morosely . He brushed a curl from my forehead and I shivered. Barrons has strong hands, with long, beautiful fingers and I think he carries some kind of electrical charge because every time he touches me it shoots an unwelcome thrill through my body. “where the hell have you been?” Barrons yanked open the cab door and pried me out of it with one hand around my upper arm. My feet left the ground for a moment. He brushed the pad of his thumb across my mouth, then cupped my chin and angled my face back up to the light, I thought he was going to kiss me himself, to taste the complexity and complicity of me. “One day you may kiss a man you can’t breathe without, and find breath is of little consequence” I could feel the heat off his big body, along with the energy that always seemed to roll of him, that strange electrical current that bristled, omnipresent beneath his golden skin. There was something different about him tonight. Control was Barron’s middle name. Why then was I getting this feeling of… wildness.. Of an emotion I couldn’t identify but was surely kin to violence. And there was something more.. If he’d been any other man and id been any other girl, I’d have called the narrowing of his heavy-lidded dark eyes lust. But he was Barrons and I was Mac, and a blossoming of lust was about as likely as orchids blooming in Antarctica. Barrons was framed in the doorway. His eyes were black ice. He stared at me a moment, raking me from head to toe. “Nice tan, Ms Lane. So, where the feck have you been for the past month?” The moment he seen me, he charged me, roughly bundled me over his shoulder, hauled me to the garage, stripped off my tool belt, and chained me to a support beam. I hadn’t even tried to fight him off; there was more steal inside Barrons than in the post behind me. His hand was on my throat, and he was crushing me back with his body into the cold steel beam behind me. “Yes, I have loved Ms Lane and although it’s none of your business I have lost. Many things. And no, I’m not like any other player in this game and I will never be like V’lane, and I get a hard on a great deal more often than occasionally. He leaned fully against me and I gasped. “Sometimes it’s over a spoiled little girl, not a woman at all. And yes I trashed the bookstore when I couldn’t find you” I eyed him, wondering what his elegant Italian suit might conceal. He had all the tattooing implements. What did Barrons look like without his clothes on? Barrons knew me too well. “He t-told me you… weren’t….coming” I was cold, so cold. He glanced wildly as if looking for something, and if he’d been any other man, I would have called his emotional state frantic. “And you believed him? No don’t answer that. I said don’t talk. Just be still. feck, Mac. feck” He’d called me Mac. My face hurt too bad to smile, but I did inside . I must have blinked. His face was close to mine. His hand was in my hair. His breath was warm on my cheek. His face was over me again, a dark angel. Basque and Pict, he’d told me. Criminals and Barbarians I’d mocked. A beautiful face for all the savagery. “You can’t die Mac” his voice was flat, implacable.. “I won’t let you” “This isn’t want I wanted” Barrons was saying. “This isn’t what I would have chosen. You must know that. It’s important you know that.” His face was in my neck and he was breathing hard. Was he grieving me? Already? Would he miss me? Had I, in some tiny way come to matter to this enigmatic, had, brilliant, obsessed man? I realized he come to matter to me. Good or evil, right or wrong, he mattered to me. I was “Ms lane” again. Apparantely I was only Mac when gravely injured or dying. We’d talk about that later too. “I’m the one that keeps saving your life. Doesn’t that tell you something?” “I know you’re the ones with the boobs, their in my fecking way every fecking time I turn around” “feck you, Ms lane” “You just try. I’ll kick the fecking sh***t out of you” “You think you could?” "Bring it on” He grabbed a fistful of my T-shirt, and dragged me up against him until our noses touched. “I’ll bring it, Ms Lane. But remember you asked for it. So don’t even try thinking about tapping out and quitting on the fight” He swapped the fistful of my shirt for one in my hair, and ground his mouth against mine. I exploded I shoved at him, and clawed him closer. He shoved me back, and yanked me tighter to his body. I pulled his hair. He pulled mine. He didn’t fight fair. Actually, he fought exactly fair. He didn’t extend courtesies, not a single one. I bit his lip. He tripped me and pushed me down to the stone floor of the cavern. I punched him. He straddled me. I ripped his shirt down the front, left it hanging in tatters from his shoulders. “I liked that shirt” he snarled. He grabbed the hem of my shirt, tore it straight up to my neck, and inhaled sharply. His mouth was on mine again, the hot silk of his tongue, the sharp deliberate abrasion of his teeth, the exchange of breath and the small, desperate sounds of need. A tsunami of lust - crashed into me, knocking me off my feet, and dragging me out to a dangerous sea. There was no lifeboat here in these deep, killing waters, not even a lighthouse, marking the way back to shore with its soft amber promise. There was only the storm of barrons and the one I seemed to be, and if there was dark shapes moving in the waters beneath my feet that I should probably take a good hard look at and possibly reconsider trying to swim out, I didn’t care. He fitted himself to me and began a driving, erotic, rhythmic bump and grind. Barrons tongue was inside my mouth, and somehow I was inside barrons. Barrons exploded from the shadows and hit me like a missile, taking me to the ground beneath him. “She stays with me” said, Barrons. His voice too, rolled with the thunder of a multitude, reverberating inside my skull. Of course I was staying with him. What had I been thinking? Barrons and I had taken our skins off around each other tonight. Shared too many secrets, and none of them the important ones. I was about to look away when he reached across the seat, touched my jaw with his long, strong, beautiful fingers, and caressed my face. Being touched by Jericho Barrons with kindness makes you feel like you must be the most special person in the world. “What are you Barrons?” “The one who will never let you die, and that’s more, Ms Lane, than anyone in your life has been able to say to you. More than anyone else can do” Barrons took a seat at the opposite end of the sofa. Even with all that space between us, we were too close. I remember the feel of his wild, electric body on top of mine. I remembered lying beneath him with my skirt ripped to my neck, the look on his face. I looked away. I stared into Barrons dark eyes as the phone rung and rung. I remember kissing him, remembered the images: The desert, the hot, killing soricco, the lonely boy, the endless wars. I wondered if I kissed him again, I’d get inside him again. As I reached the connecting door, I stopped. “Jericho”. “Mac” I hesitated. “Thank you for saving my life” I slipped through the door, before I pulled it close, I added softly “again”  “But first I’d like to know what the feck you were doing kissing him.” Barrons likes to use sexual innuendo to try to shut me up. I think he expects the well-raised southern belle in me will think eew and back off. Sometimes, I do think eew, but I don’t back off. “I’m a spitter, if that’s what you’re asking.” I flashed him a too-sweet smile. “Didn’t look that way to me. I think you’re a swallower. His tongue was halfway to China and you were still taking it.” “Jealous?” “Implies emotional investment. The only investment I have in you is my time, and I’m expecting a big payoff. Tell me about the Sinsar Dubh.” I’ve felt that body on top of mine, been the focus of that consuming gaze. I try not to think about it. I have a box inside me now that never used to exist. I never needed it before. It’s down in my deepest, darkest corner, and it’s airtight, soundproofed, and padlocked. It’s where I keep thoughts I don’t know what to do with, that could get me into trouble. Eating Unseelie hammers on the inside of that lid incessantly. I try to keep kissing Barrons in that box, too, but it gets out sometimes Barrons’ lips twitched. I’d almost made him smile. Barrons smiles about as often as the sun comes out in Dublin, and it has the same effect on me; makes me feel warm and stupid. Barrons and I are pros at ignoring anything and everything that passes between us that might smack of emotion of any kind, even so simple a feeling as embarrassment. Sometimes I can’t believe I was ever beneath that big, hard body, kissing him, getting glimpses into his life. The desert. The lonely boy. The lone man. Don’t think it hadn’t occurred to me that having sex with Barrons might just answer some of my questions about who and what he was. It had. And I’d promptly stuffed that idea into my padlocked box. For a gazillion reasons that need no explaining. “Who came to teach you Voice tonight? Do you think you could find another teacher? Those who can use that power don’t share it. Whether you like it or not, you do need me, and you’ve needed me since the day you set foot in this country. Remember that, and stop pissing me off.” “You need me too,” I growled. “That’s why I’m teaching you. That’s why I gave you a safe place to live. That’s why I keep saving your life, and try to give you the things you want.” Barrons draped an arm over my shoulder and I moved into the shelter of it. The thing on my tongue burned. My brand itched. At that moment, I despised them both. “Stay away from her,” Barrons growled. “You won’t harm a hair on her head, or I’ll kill you,” said Barrons “Nice tan, Ms. Lane. How’s V’lane? Did you have a good time today? I take you to graveyards, but he takes you to the beach—is that what our problem is? Our little dates aren’t good enough for you? Does he romance you? Feed you all those pretty lies you’re so hungry for? I’ve been neglecting you lately. I’ll be remedying that” After a moment, Barrons resumed his seat in the chair across from me, absorbed my painfully stiff posture, and smiled without humor. “Very well, Mac. Relax.” Mac? He’d called me Mac? I fought for breath. “Am I about to die?” I wheezed. “Are you going to kill me?” He looked startled. I’d done it again. Spoken of my own will. He’d released my body, but not his hold on my mind and mouth. I could still feel it, compelling me, hurting me. Then he snorted. “I tell you to relax and you think I’m going to kill you? You’re crippled by a woman’s illogic.” He added as a seeming afterthought, “You may speak freely now.” The stranglehold on my throat was gone, and for a few moments I simply enjoyed the sensation of breath moving in and out of my lungs, of knowing my tongue was once again my own. I could feel V’lane’s name, piercing the meat of it, and realized that from the moment Barrons had used Voice to bind my will, it had somehow faded, receded beyond my reach. “I am not. The only two times you ever called me Mac is when I was near death. Since there’s no other threat around right now, you must be about to kill me. It’s perfectly logical.” “I didn’t call you Mac.” “Yes, you did.” “I called you Ms. Lane.” “No, you didn’t.” “Yes, I did.” “So, the man who doesn’t get laid at home has the right to go off and cheat?” “Huh?” “Which word didn’t you understand?” he sneered. “You’re the one who’s crippled by illogic. This isn’t home, it never will be, and nobody’s getting laid!” I practically shouted. “You think I don’t know that?” He shifted his body beneath me, making me painfully aware of something. Two somethings, in fact, one of which was how far up my short skirt was. The other wasn’t my problem. I wriggled, to shimmy my hem down, but his expression perished the thought. When Barrons looks at me like that, it rattles me. Lust, in those ancient, obsidian eyes, offers no trace of humanity. Doesn’t even bother trying. I didn’t hear him behind me. I felt him. Electric. Wild. One foot in the swamp. Never going to crawl all the way out. And I wanted to have sex with whatever he was. Where was I supposed to put that in my head? I wadded the thought up, stuffed it in my padlocked box, and tested the chains. I was going to need a few more. I would never forget the night we’d fought, the unexpected lust. We looked at each other and for a moment those clouds of distrust lifted and I saw his thoughts in his eyes. You were something to see, he didn’t say. You were something to feel, I didn’t reply. His gaze shuttered. I looked away. I turned around slowly, and looked up at him. He stiffened and sucked in a shallow breath. After a moment, he touched my cheek. “Such naked pain,” he whispered. I turned my face into his palm and closed my eyes. His fingers threaded into my hair, cupped my head, and brushed the brand. It heated at his touch. His hand tightened at the base of my skull and squeezed, and he raised me slowly to my tiptoes. I opened my eyes and it was my turn to inhale sharply. Not human. Oh, no, not this man. There was a long silence. The bookstore was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I was lonely. “When are you coming home?” I asked. “Home, Ms. Lane?” “I have to call it something.” We’d had this exchange once before, standing in a cemetery. I’d told him if home was where the heart was, mine was six feet under. That was no longer true. My heart was inside me now, with all its hopes and fears and pains I fidgeted. At the time I’d ordered it, it’d seemed like a good idea. I’d thought it was a humorous way of poking fun at our . . . relationship, while also saying, I know you’re really old and probably not human at all, but whatever you are, you still have a birthday, just like the rest of the world. Then I was trapped between the wall and his body, with no awareness of having gotten there. He’s frighteningly quick when he wants to be. I think he could give Dani a run for the money. He had my hands pinned above my head, braceleted at the wrists by one of his. The other was around my throat. His head was down and he was breathing hard. For a moment, he rested his face in my neck. Then he pulled back and stared at me and when he spoke his voice was low with fury. “Never do that again, Ms. Lane. Do not insult me with your silly rituals, and idiotic platitudes. Never try to humanize me. Don’t think we’re the same, you and I. We’re not.” I moistened my lips. His gaze fixed on them. I think I stopped breathing. He jerked so sharply away that his long dark coat sliced air, and turned his back to me. “Was that an invitation, Ms.Lane?” “If it was?” I asked, astonishing myself. What did I think I was doing? “I don’t do hypotheticals. Little girl.”  because their story will end in.. happily ever after.. He'll do anything to protect her, even if it means her hating him. because he is the only person she can trust Because one day they'll wonder why they ever denied their love because its only a matter of time before their feelings come out. Because he'll go to the ends of the earth to find her because she has turned his world upside down Because he didn't know what love was til she crashed into his life Life isn't worth living if he doesn't have her. because what they have, is something she never before believed was possible 'Cause he's the one who has her back 'Cause his actions speak louder than his words "because he may not tell her how he feels, but he sure shows her" Because he came alive when she crashed into his life Because nobody else gets him to react the way he does, except her Because he'll give her anything she wants Because he'll always make sure she is safe Because he has protected her from day 1 Because he'll be the one to bring her back to life Because they hide their feelings behind banter and mockery  http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...self-62865890/ http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...-her-62876950/ http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...-mac-62882200/ http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...iven-62885178/ http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...4/index20.html http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...dead-62891003/ MacღJericho(Fever Series) #7: Because they're each others' guardian angel, they will never let the other fall http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...ring-62895584/ http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri.../#post35590485 http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...play-62903867/ http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...ping-62908343/ http://www.fanforum.com/f88/mac-jeri...ants-62909721/ __________________
Last edited by let me sign; 09-04-2009 at 12:55 PM |
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#2 | |||
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Fan Forum Star
Joined: Dec 2005
Posts: 240,742
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thanks for the new thread.
 LOVE the title. |
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#3 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Aug 2007
Posts: 29,882
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TFTN Kas Love the title
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#4 | |||
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Fan Forum Hero
Joined: Jan 2005
Posts: 50,370
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hahahah and he's HERS
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#5 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Oct 2006
Posts: 36,537
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TFTNT!
I love the title  __________________
So you're saying, that now I'm basically |
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#7 | |||
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Master Fan
Joined: Mar 2009
Posts: 21,356
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TFTNT!
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~nian~ |
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#8 | |||
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Fan Forum Hero
Joined: Jun 2006
Posts: 70,815
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Oh wow, I love the title squeeeeeee
 When are we gonna be adding the DrF quotes?  __________________
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#11 | |||
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Fan Forum Star
Joined: Dec 2005
Posts: 240,742
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Quote:
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#12 | |||
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Fan Forum Hero
Joined: Jan 2005
Posts: 50,370
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Jeez how are we gonna be able to fill in all the goodness from that book
 Quote:
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#14 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Oct 2006
Posts: 36,537
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Quote:
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So you're saying, that now I'm basically |
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