Fucking sexy as hell.
"Macy," I murmur to get her attention. I keep my hand perfectly still against her.
She opens her eyes, which are now glazed in a cloud of wanton lust. Her blue eyes stare at me, daring me to go further. She's caught up deep now.
"Do you want to talk or do you want me to make you come?" I ask her, needing her to make the final decision as to how this is going to go down between us. I know if she chooses "talk," then my chances of fucking her are slim. If she wants to come, then I know we'll talk after, and that's a win-win for both of us.
She stares at me, the tiny pulse just above her collarbone popping madly. Seeing major indecision, I silently pray for her to choose to come. I need her to choose an orgasm.
Macy takes a deep breath... lets it out slowly. She makes a choice she doesn't want to make because she's grimacing when she says, "Make me come."
Chapter 20
She doesn't try to avoid my lips anymore but rather grabs my head with one hand and pulls me toward her. We kiss fervently, every lash of my tongue against hers causing jolts of pleasure to rocket through me. I start pumping my finger in and out of her gently, intentionally keeping it slow. I don't want her to blow too fast, which is how my girl rolls when we're together.
I reluctantly let her mouth go because I need more. I rise up to my knees and pull my hand out from between her legs. I'd love to take the time to undress Macy, letting my fingers sensually caress her skin as I reveal it for my eyes. But I don't because I'm afraid if I slow things down too much, she's going to come to her senses and try to kick me out again.
Grabbing the buttoned seam of her blouse, I pull hard and rip it open. A few buttons go flying but most just pop free of their holes. She has on a lacy, white bra with scalloped edges, and it looks virginally sweet. After a quick study, I see the clasp is in the back, so I make do by pulling the material down and exposing her breasts.
"God, I miss these," I say reverently before leaning down and taking a nipple in my mouth. I lave at it gently, give it a tiny suck, and then nip at it with my teeth. Macy cries out, clasping my head to her chest.
Man, I'm so fucking horny right now that I have to resist the urge drive in deep. It's only been a few days since we've made love, but it feels like an eternity. I slide my way down her body, pressing kisses to her stomach. Bypassing the material of her skirt now bunched around her waist, I put my hands under her knees. I spread her wide and raise her legs up, looking down at my prize.
With an efficiency that makes Macy gasp in surprise, I bend down, throw her legs over my shoulders, and attack her pussy with my mouth. I groan over the first taste, and the vibrations cause her to cry out. I alternate stabbing my tongue into her with circling it around her clit, and because I know this woman so well... because I can read every nuance in her breathing, the way the muscles of her inner thighs start to quiver just before she climaxes, I know that Macy needs only the barest of pushes to fall over the edge. I close my mouth over her clit, hitting her with a hard and fast flutter of my tongue.
She cries my name out... a sob really, and her entire body quakes with pleasure as she comes for me.
I would normally continue to lap at her, loving the continued aftershocks that will continue to sizzle long after the major burst is gone. But I can't wait another second... I have to be one with her.
Pushing myself up, I let her legs off my shoulders. They're weak and fall open even further as she watches me. I deftly jerk on my fly and the buttons all pop free. Pushing my underwear and jeans down just enough to get my cock in my hand, I'm then guiding it to her entrance. The first touch of her warm flesh against mine and I have to give in to my base urges.
I push in just a few inches and release my hold on my dick. My hands go behind her knees, raising her legs up high until her ass is off the couch. I lean my body forward and from this position, I push down into her hard.
That's right... down into her because I have her body practically folded in half. I draw my knees up a little, giving me more leverage, and really start to drill into her.
"Yes," Macy moans as her head tilts backward and she bares her throat to me. "Just like that."
I pile drive into her harder and harder. My hips piston, my ass muscles clenching on every thrust and relaxing as I pull back. My head spins, my lungs constrict.
So damn close.
I drop my hold on Macy's legs and collapse on top of her, still fucking her like a beast. But I take what she's offering and clamp my mouth onto her neck. I give a hard suck and then I'm seeking her mouth, because even when I'm balls deep in the sweetest pussy in the world, I'm closest to Macy when we complete the simple act of kissing.
My tongue takes a swipe at hers and when it retreats, I speak against her lips. "I love you."
Macy's hips slam upward against me, and she cries out into my mouth as she starts coming again. Just three little words caused her to fracture.
Pushing into her deep, I just rock against her while she trembles through her second orgasm. I press tiny kisses along her jaw until she's grabbing my head, sinking her fingers deep into my hair and dragging my lips back to hers.
My dick starts pounding at her again, now in a desperate need to mark her. Our kiss turns deeper, my thrusts more focused. I'm on the edge, just a few more strokes--
"Tell me again," Macy moans as she tears her lips from mine.
A starburst of white light flashes before me, and a violent orgasm starts to rocket through my body over her request. That she needs to hear me say I love her again.
I slam in one last time, my ass muscles squeezing so hard I'm afraid they'll cramp, and I tilt my head back as I groan out, "I love you," while I pour everything I have into her.
Ten minutes after the most amazing orgasm of my life, Macy and I are back on the battlefield. Frankly, I'm a little stunned by what just happened between us. I'm not really sure if it was as transcendental to Macy as it was to me, but in that moment she asked me to tell her I love her... in that split second where just her words alone had me coming like a geyser into her... I think my soul melded to hers. In that moment, I felt such completeness... such harmony in my life that I knew everything would be okay.
Except for now, Macy sits on the opposite side of the couch and glares at me. She only let me hold her for a few minutes after we were done, then she shot off into the bedroom where she donned a pair of yoga pants and a white t-shirt.
"That's my t-shirt," I say as a means of opening communication, filled with immense satisfaction she's wearing my clothing. That old, semen-stained t-shirt she took from my office months ago after wiping the wetness from between her legs.
She glances down at it, and her cheeks turn red. "I like to sleep in it."
This pleases me greatly, but I don't gloat. I have a feeling Macy's anger is going to come back to pay me a visit.
"That was phenomenal," I say... hoping she'll validate my feelings.
She merely shrugs and picks at the hem of my t-shirt. "You really should leave," she says as a means to get us back to the heart of the matter.
"Not until we talk."
Her head snaps up, and she throws her hands up in frustration. "What's to talk about? The longer you're here, the more danger you're in."
"I don't care," I snap at her, scooting closer to her on the couch. I take her hands in mine and squeeze them. "We can work this out."
Macy jerks her hands from mine and flies off the couch. She takes two steps away, and then whirls back around. I'm stunned to see tears leaking from her eyes. "Don't you understand what this all means, Cal?"
I have to touch her. I have to feel her warmth and ensure myself she isn't lost to me. Surging off the couch, I bring my hand to her cheek. She doesn't shy away from me, but her look is guarded.
"It means," I tell her softly, "that you were abused, assaulted, and treated horrifically. It means I'm in awe of your strength. It means I love you more, not less, because of those things. It means I am not going awa
y."
She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Shaking her head, she lowers her gaze for a moment, and when she looks back up, I see the utter truth as she believes it on her face. "It means I'm damaged. Beyond repair. You're too good of a man to ever saddle yourself with someone like me."
"You are not damaged beyond repair," I assert, keeping my voice soft, even though I want to shake those notions out of her.
"Cal," Macy says as if she's talking to a child. "You keep telling me you love me, and you'd be a liar if you didn't admit that you're waiting for those words back from me. But I don't think I can get them out."
"I don't need the words," I tell her urgently. "Don't you think what we did... just now on that couch... isn't that about care and deep feelings? You might not be able to say it, but I'm telling you, Macy... that's mutual love. Deny that what just happened wasn't amazing and that you don't crave it."
She looks at me with pity, reaching up to take my hand away from her cheek. "That was amazing. And I did crave it."
I give her a smug look because I got her to admit that.
She catches me off guard, though, when she asks, "Do you know why I like sex so much?"
I shake my head, thrown by this change of subject. I don't think I really want to know the answer to this question.
She gives it to me anyway.
"It's because I was taught at an early age that was my only value. My parents ignored me and the only thing that drew my uncle to me was sex. After the abortion, my parents sent me off to boarding school, and I went crazy. I slept with everyone I could, even a teacher, and I loved every bit of it. Because I got the attention I was so desperately craving. And it felt good. I mean, really good."
I stare at her, dumbfounded. What she says makes absolute sense, and yet I don't want to believe a word of it. Because, if I do, then there is a chance that maybe she doesn't have deep care toward me the way I suspected. She's with me just because the sex is great, and it's something that makes her feel valued.
Which makes me feel cheap.
"In my entire life," she says quietly. "I never believed any man when they told me they cared for me... or loved me. I knew those were lies, only told to further their own agenda. I refused to let myself ever open up to a person like that."
"Macy," I say... my voice raw with emotion. "I understand all that. But you have to know that's not who you are right now... today... standing here with me."
She shakes her head sadly. "I don't know that. I'm a bad person at my core. I don't think I was made that way, but I think I was certainly shaped that way."
I take a step toward her, the need to pull her into my arms painfully overwhelming. She holds up a hand and shakes her head. "No. You cannot love someone like me. There is nothing redeeming about me."
Something cracks inside of me. I actually feel a physical thwack of pain as if someone snapped a giant rubber band against my heart. And while Macy deserves my empathy and love, right now she deserves a few smacks on the ass.
I. Am. Pissed.
I grab her by the shoulders and reel her in. My voice is low, rumbling with dire warning. "Don't ever let me hear you talk that way about yourself again."
Her face pales, her lips tremble. Eyes go wide with a tinge of apprehension.
"You are one of the most wonderful people I've ever met, and while I could stand here for hours and list out every desirable trait you possess, I'm not going to waste my breath. You are a woman of confidence. You know you are amazing. But what I am going to do is spend a moment making sure that if you never believe another thing I tell you, please believe this."
I pause, pull her in closer. My gaze delves in to hers, and I hope she sees the brutal honesty deep within. I hope she understands me when I say, "You've done a damn fine job of surviving the atrocities laid on your doorstep. You've shown strength and resilience in spades. Every one of those women you counsel at The Faith Mission should hold you up on the highest pedestal as a role model. But Macy... baby... your life isn't about just merely enduring anymore. It's changed. You've changed. You've left survival far behind, and your life now is about thriving. You're just failing to see that because all you see are the immediate obstacles in your path."
She smiles at me... gently. "That's lovely, Cal. But the obstacle currently in my path is a man that is threatening to kill you if you don't stop pursuing him. If I'm with you, you won't ever give that up, and he knows it. I'm afraid it's going to end badly for you. For me. And I just can't live with myself if you're hurt."
"I'm not going to get--"
She cuts me off with pain-laced words. "I'm not a complete woman."
"What?"
"I'm damaged in more ways than you can ever know."
"I'm not following--"
"I can't have children," she blurts out, giving me an apologetic look. "When Dr. Coppens... when he..."
She stutters... fumbles for the right words. I want to clap my hands over my ears, before she rights herself, but then it's all laid out before me. The entire truth to Macy's nightmare.
"My parents had Dr. Coppens sterilize me," she says with a cracking voice.
"They what?" I whisper in horror, but I heard what she just said. It's just so unbelievably unbelievable that I can't comprehend the heinous nature of what they did.
"I can't have children. Coppens did a tubal ligation," she says... a little unsure of herself.
"Can't that be reversed?" I ask, because it seems to me maybe I read that somewhere.
She shakes her head. "It's improbable. I've had my doctor look into it, and apparently Coppens cauterized my fallopian tubes, which is very hard to reverse."
"But it still potentially could be done," I press.
"Listen to me, Cal... this is just another reason why you need to leave me far behind. You're a man who wants a family and children, and you deserve that."
"When?" I ask.
Her brows draw down in confusion. "When what?"
"When did you have a doctor check?"
She hesitates... cuts her gaze to the side.
"Since you started seeing me?" I push at her.
She nods, and I let out a breath of relief. Joy and ecstasy fill me up, because that means Macy thought about having children.
With me.
I take her by the shoulders again. "We're getting sidetracked. We can get another doctor to check you out, and hell... another after that. But if you can't get pregnant, we'll deal with it. We can think about in vitro or adoption. Plenty of ways to have kids nowadays."
Macy gives me a grateful smile, but it's also filled with regret and longing. She stands on tiptoes, kissing my lips. "Thank you for saying that, but I'm not changing my mind. I'm bad for you in so many ways that I'm still cutting you loose."
"You don't mean that."
"You're my favorite person in the world," she whispers as she pulls away from me. "And if the only way to keep you in this world is to let you go, that's what I'm doing."
"No," I deny her, even as I realize I think she just said she loves me without actually saying it.
Macy rubs the back of her neck and sighs wearily. "Listen... give me a few days to think. A few days to keep you safe. And then, maybe, we can talk about it again."
It's the best concession I know I'll get from her, and I'm pretty sure she's lying. Once I walk out that door, I bet she's not going to open it back up.
My phone starts ringing and I pull it out of my pocket, a burst of excitement whirring through me when I see Keith is calling.
"You get anything?" I ask as soon as I connect the call.
"Pay dirt," he says, and then qualifies it. "I think. Housekeeper was very vague with me. Said she knows that Coppens did horrible things down in that basement. Did horrible things to a lot of young girls."
"That's all she would say?" I ask, frustrated beyond measure.
"No. She said the details would get clearer for the right amount of money. And by details, she said she knew the names of all the powerful
men that used Dr. Coppens' services."
I grit my teeth. "And how much would that be?"
"Ninety-five hundred euro," Keith says matter-of-factly.
"Fuck," I mutter, but then I glance at Macy. Staring at me with worry, nibbling on her fingernail. Scared, fucked-up, beautiful Macy.
"Do it," I tell Keith. "Transfer the money and then call me back with what she knows."
Chapter 21
From the Diary of Macy Carrington:
Dear Diary,
Someone very dear to me told me something interesting today.
To paraphrase, he said that my life isn't merely about just surviving anymore... the way that I have been. He said my life has changed. That I need to learn to thrive.
Inside, I immediately denied that sentiment.
But now he's been gone for a few hours, and I can't seem to let it go. I keep thinking over and over again what a life it would be if I could thrive... flourish. How happy would I be if I prospered?
Cal says it's within my reach, but I also heard loud and clear what he didn't say.
I'm a coward.
I'm afraid to grab on to it.
I'll think on it some more.
Love,
Macy
Chapter 22
From the Diary of Macy Carrington:
Dear Diary,
I couldn't get to sleep last night. Everything Cal said to me kept reverberating through my head. Everything Cal did to me kept reverberating through my body.
Finally, I think I dozed off around three AM and must have been struck immediately with a dream. In it, I was walking down a long corridor. It was dark and shadowy. There was something ominous lurking. Waiting.
At the end of the hallway, I saw Cal. He stood in a swath of light and held his hand out to me. He encouraged me to run toward him. I begged him to come get me.
I couldn't move. I was frozen with fear. I knew the only way I'd be saved is if Cal braved the dark corridor to get me.
But when he took a step toward me, the fear of what would happen to him almost knocked me to my knees. I broke out in a cold sweat, and I thought I might vomit. My heart was hammering so hard I became lightheaded.
He took another step toward me, and I screamed at him to stop.