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Maybe, I think, another time.
A delicious little thrill slips down my spine as I grab his T-shirt. I pull it on, find my case, grab a pair of panties and my toiletries and shower.
After I pull on those panties and the shirt, I make some coffee and go and sit outside on the loveseat on the porch in one corner. I have my phone, and I figure I better check my messages.
There’s one from Vic in my email. It’s a photo of a harassed-looking man who just realized he’d bitten off more than he could ever hope to chew from the expression on his face.
Gran says,Your mother is on the warpath. Also, watch out for Captain Dumb Ass here. The bozo came by asking questions about you. Took his photo.
Knowing her, she ordered him to stand there and threatened him.
There’s a voicemail from Mom, and then something so shocking, I almost fall off my chair.
She sent a text.
Mom:You won’t call me back, Sidney James Novak. I’m not impressed by you or anything. Such an embarrassment. Get your tush home. Your father got that prestigious new job, so if you’re causing a scandal, there’ll be trouble. Call back.
Scandal? Is the man in the photo to do with Mom? Or my last job? And scandal? What—
“Problem?”
The dark, lazy tones of Mack drag me away from the tangling thoughts.
“No,” I say, lying. I turn and forget how to speak.
A drop of water falls from his hair and down to his chest. He’s in boxer briefs, leaning against the side of the cabin. Plus, he’s sporting some fine morning wood.
I can barely breathe.
“Good. Get your ass upstairs. I have a morning routine in mind for you.”
I almost drop my cup in my haste, and he basically chases me up there. We laugh, kiss, and strip down, I sink onto him, and we fuck in slow undulating moves, everything lazy and coming together in a build of sweet tension.
He rolls us so he’s on top as he picks the tempo up, thrusting deep into me, making me moan. He kisses me hard, and then he comes up on his hands to watch as he thrusts, and I do too.
It’s so impossibly erotic that I come clamping onto him in contractions that make me hiss his name out. And then he just says, “Fuck.”
Mack comes too. That shuddery, twitching flood of his seed that’s somehow everything I want.
He collapses on me. “You, me. Your mouth. My cock. It’s gonna fuckin’ happen. Then it’s gonna be my mouth, your cunt. Maybe both together. The old sixty-nine.” He kisses the side of my throat, my shoulder, and plays with my nipples. Everywhere he touches, life bursts into wild being. “What I’m saying is I’ve got plans, Princess.”
I shudder with delight and post-coital lethargy.
“Also,” he says, like we’ve been discussing this, “do you want to come to the family dinner?” He pauses. “I framed it as a question, but it was more a fuckin’ command.”
I’m not thinking of anything but how good I feel, how the endorphins run riot.
I’m floating. I want more. I want to bask, dive, and swim with him. I want to explore.
I want more of him.
So, I say, “Yes.”
ChapterFourteen
Mack
For a guy who should be wondering when he lost his mind, for a man who invited a woman whose phone number he just realized he doesn’t have, I’m feeling fucking fine.
