Page 11
Standing from the bed, I walk over to Mac and lift her face with my finger under her chin. When I have her full attention, I tell her, “I lied. I wasn’t with anyone this weekend. And you lied for that matter, too. You didn’t sleep with anyone else. ”
She jerks away from me, acting affronted by my proclamation. “What makes you think I lied?”
Smiling at her determined efforts to thwart my confession, I pull her into my arms and wrap my arms tight around her. I kiss her softly, tenderly, so she knows this isn’t about lust.
It’s about truth.
“I know you lied for the same reason I did. We don’t want to admit this attraction, yet both of us are obsessed by it. You can’t get me out of your mind, just as I can’t get you out of mine. I’m tired of fighting it, and I’m tired of jerking off when I’d rather be sunk deep inside of you. So I’m not fighting it anymore. ”
She gives me a stuttering breath and a half smile. I lean down and kiss her again, just a light breeze of my lips across hers. She melts further into me, and I can feel her heart beating hard against my chest. I do nothing but hold her, letting her decide what she wants to do. I hope to God she decides to let me have her, but if she doesn’t, I’ll grudgingly respect that. Just as long as she understands I haven’t been with anyone but her since we’ve met.
Mac pushes out of my arms and I drop them to my side, watching her warily. We stare at each other, and I can’t see anything in her eyes that will tell me what’s going on in that brilliant brain of hers. Just as I’m suspecting she might be showing me the door, she surprises me instead and drops to her knees. Peeking up at me under lashes so thick it’s hard to see the green in her eyes, she slowly unzips my pants and reaches a hand inside, grasping onto my aching dick.
Oh, God that feels so amazing… so f**king right.
It’s her hand that feels so right.
I go absolutely still, knowing that my deepest fantasy tonight is getting ready to come true. I draw a deep breath in and hold it, waiting. She lifts her chin so I can see her eyes more clearly, and what I see scares me. She’s quietly confident, knowing that she has a bit of power over me right now. Because let’s face it… most men would do anything for the prospect of getting a great bl*w j*b.
I need her to know that’s not me, though. That no matter what she does to me… what I do to her… none of that translates into anything more than just good sex.
Reaching out with my fingers, I lightly stroke them on her cheek. “This is just sex, McKayla… nothing more. ”
She doesn’t lower her gaze, just stares at me with the same confidence. I didn’t knock her down a peg at all. I think I may have just become a challenge to her.
She squeezes me gently, and air comes wheezing out of my lungs. Her eyes drop and she leans forward, running her tongue from the base of my c**k to the tip, causing a violent shudder to rip up my spine. She looks back up at me and says, “As long as it’s nothing less. ”
Christ, I’m done for.
My fingertips leave her cheek and push into her hair, wrapping around the back of her head. I pull her forward… urging her to wrap her lips around me.
“Fair enough,” I growl at her, and even though she’s thrown the gloves down, I’m not going to engage in a battle with her. It will be my way, or the highway… eventually… after she sucks me off.
***
My eyes open up, and I raise my head for a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table. Six AM on the dot. My internal clock never fails me, no matter how little sleep I get the night before.
Returning my head to the pillow, I lean forward and push my nose into the pile of silky, black hair in front of me. It smells like spring flowers or some shit like that. Definitely good.
I’m lying on my right side, pressed up against a soft, beautiful woman. I’m spooning her.
I don’t f**king do spooning.
I don’t do sleepovers.
I haven’t slept with a woman all night since my ex-demon-wife killed all of my desires for true intimacy.
Yet, here I am… here I stayed, and f**k… I still have no desire to leave even after I remind myself this isn’t truly who I am.
I should get up and get some coffee… some breakfast. Depositions start back up at nine AM.
But I don’t move, and yeah… I press in a little closer to Mac.
Last night was incredible. Rather, beyond incredible.
Mac embodies the ultimate fantasy woman for me. She gave me a b**w j*b last night that was so good, had me coming so hard, that I lost feeling in my legs and collapsed back on the bed. All I really remember is mumbling, I think rather incoherently, but in my mind, I knew what I was saying.
“Mac… Mac… Mac…”
She crawled up beside me, I swear licking her lips, and laid her head on my chest until I recovered. Which only took a few minutes, then I was on her, returning the favor and one-upping her on the orgasm count.
Then it was on for the rest of the evening. I made sure that we were still clear on the parameters. After she would come but before she lost that glazed look in her eyes, I’d lean over and peer into her eyes. I would say, “You know this is just sex, right?”
I had to make sure she understood that.
She would smile at me with sex-drunken eyes, nod her head, and then we’d start kissing again.
We didn’t have sex all night but we sure came close to it, and when we weren’t striving for a spine-tingling cl**ax, we were still petting, stroking, and fondling. I couldn’t get enough of her… she couldn’t get enough of me.
It was insatiability on steroids.
But that’s not all that happened last night. In our down times… you know, those times when we actually had to rest so we didn’t kill ourselves… we talked.
I mean, really talked.
None of that superficial shit that occurred that first night when we couldn’t reveal much about ourselves.
We talked about a lot of stuff, mostly about our careers and personal interests. It didn’t get too deep, but I found myself sucked into Mac’s world. I learned that she’s a southern girl, which explained the accent I thought I was hearing. She asked me a lot of questions about my career path, and I learned that she has similar goals to what I had when I started out. Her questions were thoughtful, intelligent… and even though we talked a lot of business in between the sheets, she still managed to bring humor into the equation on more than one occasion.
I’m finding that I like it when Mac makes me laugh, although I’d never admit that to her. Hell, it’s hard enough admitting it to myself.
Her breathing is soft, even, and deep. I think we finally fell asleep around three AM. I thought briefly about going back to my room, but then I told myself it was too much of a hassle, and besides… if I got horny again before the sunrise, I wanted her close by. I told myself that and tried to make myself believe it, but really… Mac just felt too good lying beside me.
Calming.
Peaceful.
I didn’t necessarily like that I liked those feelings, but I pulled her into my arms and scooted up as close to her as I could get, wrapping my arm around her waist and sliding my other arm under her head. She sighed, and even though I couldn’t see her face, I knew there was a sweet smile there. It made my heart pinch in worry, because the majority of my being doesn’t like making anyone feel that way. It smacks of dependency.
Mac stirs in my arms and arches her back slightly to stretch. She’s still sleeping, but I think she may be close to waking up. Her movements cause her butt to caress my dick, and it decides it’s definitely time to wake up.
We’re in the perfect position to wake up nicely. On our right sides… my arm under her head and the other wrapped around her waist. Her right leg is stretched out fully but her left is bent. My legs have matched her position, because apparently in sleep, I was seeking the closest amount of contact with her.
Just thinking of having her again… this morning before we have to go to work… has my c**k manning up quickly. It’s been a long time since I’ve had morning sex and just the thought brings me to full on wood.
I move my left arm from around her waist, putting my palm on her hip and sliding it down her leg. Curving it around the back of her thigh, I push her knee toward her chest… opening her up to me. Mac stays soundly asleep.
Moving my hand again, I decide to start the wake-up process. My path is well calculated, bringing my fingers fortuitously in line with the softness between her legs from the rear. Swiping my fingers through her folds gets me some movement from her… a slight tilt of her h*ps seeking more and a sleepy whine of need.
Nice.
I stroke her for a few moments, listening to her breathing become uneven. She’s still sleeping, but I’m pulling her out. I wonder if she thinks she’s dreaming and I wonder if so, is she fighting to stay under so she doesn’t wake up and lose these amazing feelings?
Mac grows wet, her body responding to me even with her mind engaged in slumber. I sink a finger inside of her and pull it out slowly.
She gets wetter, and the thought that she is so responsive to me makes me ache to be inside of her. Pulling my finger away, I move my hand to the back of her thigh again and push her leg a little higher. From there, it’s simply a matter of pushing myself down the bed a few inches and tilting my h*ps just right. With a little help from my hand to line up, I start pushing inside of her beautiful body… my promised land. I wrap my arm back around her waist and hold her tight.
I go slowly, because I want to drag out the wake-up process for her. In an inch, out an inch. In two inches, out two inches. Mac’s breathing gets harsh, raspy, and her own arm tightens around mine.
“Matt?” she asks, her voice raw from sleep.
Lifting my head up and leaning forward, I whisper in her ear, “Don’t move, beautiful. ”
I thrust in all the way, deep inside, slam to the hilt. She groans, and I know she’s fully awake now.
Moving slowly, I pump in and out of her, keeping a measured pace. I move my hand back down between her legs, from the front this time, stroking her… rubbing, pressing. Mac starts moving her h*ps in response to me, causing my fingers to slide against her perfectly. We f**k slowly, and it is torturously sweet.
When Mac starts holding her breath, I know she’s close. I’ve observed her enough to know that she’s just moments away from coming when she sucks in that big gulp of air and just holds it.
Thrusting inside of her a little more insistently, I press my fingers down against her hard and let my c**k make all the friction. Mac stiffens, starts trembling, and then she lets out a cry of relief so exquisitely sweet because I did that to her, it starts me unloading inside of her.
I come, and I come, and I come, and I wonder if I’ll ever stop, but I don’t want to… because it feels f**king fantastic. I keep pumping my hips, seeking an eternal orgasm, and I can still feel Mac spasming around me. Finally… finally, I stop, completely emptied and absolutely sated. I want nothing more than to press her against me tightly and fall back asleep.
That thought doesn’t piss me off quite as much as it should. I think I’ve come to accept that a crack has formed in my hard exterior, and McKayla Dawson has wormed her way in just a bit. While I still feel strong in my convictions, and I’m not going to let this go any further than the bedroom sheets, I have a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that I may be doomed.
Chapter 9
What a week.
After almost dying from orgasm overload in Chicago, we returned to New York late Wednesday evening where I had a brief, overnight stay in my apartment—alone—before I was heading to Atlanta for a mediation the next day. Now it’s Friday, I’m back in New York again, and I’m exhausted.
I give the cab driver Mac’s address and lean my head back against the seat. I’m so tired and I know I should go home, yet here I am… heading to her abode. My flight from Atlanta was delayed and when it landed in New York two hours late, what did my so-called exhausted ass do? I called my head of resources, Karen Anders, and asked for Mac’s address. I couldn’t give her the reason why I wanted it, and luckily, she didn’t question me.