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The only kink in the calculated portion of the plan was the first night Mac was back. She tried to get warm and fuzzy with me, but I shut that shit down quickly.
We had been frantic when we went at each other since it had been several days since we had sex. We were practically clawing each other in need and her headboard was hitting the wall so hard, I know people in the apartment next to us had to have been pissed. When we were done, we lay on our backs, gasping for breath, and I was already thinking of hitting it again, when she rolled over to face me.
“I wanted to thank you again for coming to Nashville. That really meant a lot to me,” she said softly.
I didn’t roll over to look at her, but just angled my head slightly her way. “It was no biggie,” I said distantly.
“It was a big deal,” she said with so much gratitude that it made me cringe. “It changes things… don’t you think?”
No, Mac… it changes nothing, is what I wanted to tell her, but I didn’t have it in me to see hurt fill her eyes. She’d had enough of that recently.
Instead, I rolled over on top of her and kissed her deeply, pushing my hand between her legs. I kissed her to distraction, and then I said, “I have a better idea—less talk and more action. ”
Since then, Mac hasn’t tried once to get me to engage in anything more than witty banter or maybe some shop talk.
The formula seems to be working. Eat, f**k, and leave.
When it is time to depart, I usually wait until Mac falls asleep and quietly make my exit. I always lean over and kiss her forehead, which is a f**king weakness… I get it. But she’s sleeping and doesn’t know I’m doing it, so no harm, no foul.
Even though I’ve come to love staying in bed all night with Mac, I don’t allow myself to do it because I have to make sure that my message stays clear to her. That this is all it’s ever going to be. The longer we can go on like this… developing this habit, the better it will be for all involved.
I knock on her door on this, her fifth night back, and wait patiently for her to open it. We decided to order pizza tonight so I thought I’d have her as an appetizer first, which ensures I have a semi when she opens the door.
Immediately, I know something is off, and I’d have to say it’s because her face looks grim. “We need to talk,” she says quietly.
Yeah, that’s not going to work with me, not when I’ve just been fantasizing about my tongue between her legs. I step inside and walk right up to her, causing her to tilt her head back to look at me. I hook the tips of my fingers in the waistband of the white shorts she’s wearing and give a quick jerk, causing her body to fall into mine. I love the feel of her softness against me, and my semi goes completely hard.
Leaning down, I place my lips lightly on her neck and give her a tiny lick. “Talk later… I want you too much right now. ”
She immediately sags into me, and I start to wrap my arms around her. I have so many depraved things I want to do. But then she puts her hands up onto my chest and gives me a slight push back.
Looking down at her in surprise, I see that grim determination on her face again.
“No. Talk now. Sex later. ” Her eyes flash with challenge and dare me to refuse.
There are so many ways I could handle this scenario. I could capitulate and let her talk my ear off. I have a feeling she wants to discuss our “relationship”. Or I could distract her, because I know there are certain spots on her body I can touch, and she won’t be able string two words together.
Hmmm. Which way do I want to go?
“I tell you what,” I say with deliberation. “If you can carry on a rational conversation with me for just thirty seconds while I try to seduce you, I’ll give you my undivided attention for the next two hours. You can talk until you’re blue in the face. Deal?”
Mac is so transparent sometimes, especially when sex is involved. Her eyes flare hot with the idea of me seducing her but also reflect challenge back at me. She doesn’t like to lose, and I knew that would make my offer irresistible to her.
She only hesitates for a moment before she says, “Deal. ”
If Mac was expecting some time to acclimate to the challenge, she has another thing coming. I go in for the kill right away, lunging at her. I pick her up around her waist, walk three paces to the couch and toss her down… albeit, a bit roughly. Her face registers shock as she bounces, but I don’t spare it another glance. I’m already ripping her shorts and her underwear off.
Sadly, I’m going to leave her br**sts covered, because thirty seconds is not long and I need to put on my most skilled moves if I’m going to avert a two-hour blah, blah, blah session.
I put my hand on her chest and push her back, then spread her legs wide. Leaning over, I look down at my target for just a moment, all glistening and pink just for me, and then raise my eyes to Mac briefly. She’s still wearing that same stunned expression that within ten seconds, I had her stripped and splayed before me.
“Come on, Mac,” I taunt her. “You have about twenty seconds left to carry on a conversation. Let’s make it easy. Tell me about your favorite movie. ”
I don’t spare her another glance though, opening my mouth and covering her pu**y. I give just a quick swipe up her center with my tongue but then I wrap my lips around her cl*t and start sucking… hard. As an afterthought, I push my thumb inside of her, gently massaging, but it’s my lips and tongue that are the distractions here. Mac’s h*ps buck hard against me, almost knocking me loose. I just growl my displeasure against her clit, flutter my tongue against it for good measure, and then start sucking again on her.
She cries out in such a way that tells me that she’s loving this. She may be losing the challenge, but she is immensely turned on by what I’m doing to her. But hell, so am I. My dick is aching to get inside of her.
Mac is so responsive to me that I’m afraid she may come almost instantaneously and manage to get a few words out of her mouth afterward, so I ease up on her cl*t just a bit, licking gently for a few moments, just to get her down a bit, but not enough to allow rational thought back in her head.
When I’m confident that the thirty seconds has expired, I renew my attack on her, tonguing her almost viciously, until she explodes in my mouth.
It is so f**king hot that I can’t control myself. Before Mac can even recover, I pull her limp body up and half carry, half walk her around the back of the couch. I push her chest forward over the back, and keep pushing until her face is almost touching the cushions and she’s on the very tips of her toes with her ass tipped up beautifully to me.
Fuck, she has a gorgeous ass. It’s not the first time I’ve had an overwhelming urge to take her there, but there’s no way that’s happening right now. Hell, it hasn’t happened yet because we are always going at it so fast and hard, and sorry… but any guy worth his f**king salt knows you have to work gently into those things.
Maybe one day, but it isn’t today.
I pop my button and unzip my fly, pulling my engorged c**k out and rubbing it between her folds, relishing how slick she is.
Then I slam into her, all the way, no warning, and she cries out and I have to stifle my groan.
I f**k her mercilessly, pumping into her so hard that my balls hurt a little from the way they’re slapping against her. But I dig the pleasure-pain principle so I don’t let up.
Pounding in Mac while she hangs practically upside down on the couch makes me feel powerful, and alive, and I’m reminded why Matt Fucking Connover is the way he is.
This is the only f**king way to live life, and I hope I’m f**king some sense into her because if she’s honest, she’ll admit this is a pretty damn good way to live.
My orgasm slams through me so hard, that I can’t help the words that pour out of me in sync to the way I’m shooting inside of her. “Mac… Mac… Mac…”
When I’m drained and with my chest still heaving, I pull back and slip out of her,
reaching forward to pull her back up. When she gets her legs underneath of her, I start to turn her in my arms for a gentle kiss.
Instead, she practically shrieks at me, slapping my arms away. “I can’t do this anymore, Matt. ”
I can’t help but smile at her. She looks magnificent with her hair wild, her neck red from an explosive orgasm, and anger sparking hot in her eyes.
Makes me want to f**k her again.
“Yes, you can,” I gloat. “Want me to prove it to you right now?”
“No,” she says, her voice now back under control and sounding fatigued. “I’m tired of being controlled by you sexually. I’m tired of this… this… I don’t even know what this is, but I’m tired of it. ”
Yeah, right. Who in their right mind would get tired of this?
Fucking. Best. Sex. Ever.
Apparently, she needs a little reminder so I reach out to her, grinning devilishly.
“No!” she yells in frustration, and my hands drop. “No. I need you to leave. ”
You’d never know it because I keep my cocky smile on my face, but inside, I start to smolder with fury. She’s f**king ruining what I’ve so carefully built back up this week. I thought she was on board with where we went. I thought she understood my need for a “reset”. She certainly hasn’t complained.
I stare at her for a moment, still keeping that arrogant look on my face, when what I really want to do is yell at her in frustration. Her eyes are dismally sad when she just stares back at me, not backing down.
I’m not backing down either. When I decided to “reset”, I did so because it was what was best for me. It was done to protect me. I don’t have room to look out for both of us.
Pushing my c**k back in my pants, I zip myself up while smirking at her. I don’t feel like smirking but I do it anyway, so she knows she doesn’t have a chance for anything more. “You’ll never be able to give this up, Mac. Not for long anyway. ”
I don’t look for her reaction, because I know that what I just said probably killed any bit of feelings she had for me. While I pretty much assured myself it would be her reaction when I said those words, I don’t want to see the utter disappointment and pain on her face.
Because damn it… even though I don’t want to, I do still care.
But ultimately… not enough.
Chapter 20
I have got to be the biggest dumbass in the history of the world. The reasons may be too numerous to list, causing a novel the size of which would rival War and Peace.
I’ll just hit the highlights.
Aside from the obvious, that I should have never f**ked Mac after I learned her real identity, I would have to say my first screw up was in bringing her flowers. It was a silly and lighthearted gesture on my part that apparently holds a ton of meaning to a woman. While, granted, Mac didn’t simper or make a big deal of the flowers—it was still a mistake. It was a mistake because Mac didn’t simper or make a big deal. That, therefore, gave me a false sense of security with her. I underestimated her girlie side, because she wasn’t blatant about it.
So I figured… I brought her flowers with no major reaction, what could possibly be such a big deal then about flying to Nashville to hold her while her mother died?
Yes, even I know how ludicrous that sounds, but my own ego is so battered right now that I’m through trying to rationalize my actions. It’s just easier to admit I’m a dumbass and try to move on.
Except I can’t move on.
I f**king miss Mac so bad that I’m having trouble sleeping.
Having trouble concentrating.
Not having a hard time jerking off, but that’s only because I have a stockpile of amazingly sexy memories with Mac I can call upon for aid.
But I’m tired of masturbating to the memory of a former lover. How could that ever be satisfying when I’ve had the real Mac?