She nods at me uncertainly, but turns and heads back toward her bedroom.
Scratching my head, I walk into the kitchen to find Mac fixing a cup of coffee. She doesn't say anything at first, so I go ahead and pick up my own cup to take a sip. When she finally looks at me, she whispers, "What the fuck, Cal?"
"Is that a pissed 'What the fuck', an incredulous 'What the fuck" or a happy 'What the fuck'?"
Mac's mouth slams shut, her eyebrows draw inward as she thinks about it a moment. Then she smiles big at me. "I think it's a happy 'What the fuck'."
I didn't realize how important that answer was until I let out my own release of pent-up breath and return her smile. "Phew. That makes me feel better."
"How long has this been going on?" she whispers.
"Why are you whispering? We're out now," I say with a grin as I set my cup down. Walking over to the cabinet, I pull out another plate.
"I don't know," she says in a normal tone but still keeping her voice low. "I guess I'm just shocked."
Making myself busy by divvying up the eggs and bacon now among three plates, I tell her, "Since Aaron's birthday party."
"What... you asked her out on a date then?" she says incredulously. Which just proves how well she knows Macy and knows that is not ever the way it would have happened between us.
So I decide to be truthful, put it out there as succinctly as I can, and then I'll let Macy fill in the details later. "We had sex at the party. In the pantry. Twice. Then again in my office after I took her case. Then again in Utah... and well, just again and again."
"Just... wow," she murmurs as she follows me over to the kitchen table where I set the plates of food. "Is that all this is? Just sex."
I want to give her fluff. I want to tell her sure... it's just some amazing fucking going on here. She'd understand, because she knows Macy. But the problem is that Mac knows me too, and she'd never accept that. "It's a bit more for me."
I'm not prepared for the sympathy in Mac's eyes even though I know her heart is as big as they come. "You need to be careful with Macy--"
I quickly cut her off, because I know Macy will be joining us any second. "I promise I won't hurt her."
Mac shakes her head, her lips drawing down sadly. "I know you won't. You're not built that way. I mean you need to be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt either."
I nod at her but before I can say anything, I hear Macy's soft footsteps coming closer. When she walks into the kitchen, just as with every time she comes into my view, I get a little dizzy just from her beauty. She gives me a quick smile, and then crosses over to Mac, where she gives her a light punch on her shoulder as she passes by, heading toward the table. "What's with the breaking and entering of my apartment?"
Macy dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a plain, white t-shirt that hugs her curves well. Her hair is wet and slicked back, and her feet are bare. I want Mac to hurry up and get the hell gone so I can take her back to bed.
"Shouldn't have let me keep the key you gave me when we lived together," Mac says with a grin as she sits down in a chair and pulls a plate of food toward her. Macy takes the chair opposite of her and I choose to stand, my breakfast ignored for the time being.
Mac picks up a fork, takes a mouthful of egg, and chews thoughtfully. Then her nose wrinkles and she swallows hard, pushing the plate away.
"Aren't the eggs any good?" Macy asks with her head tilted to the side.
"Um... no, they're pretty craptastic actually. A little rubbery."
"Guess we'll go out to breakfast," Macy says as she looks toward me. "I thought you said you could cook?"
Shaking my head, I lean a hip against the counter. "Nope. Never said that. Just that I would cook."
"Alright," Mac says as she takes her coffee cup in hand. "Since I'm not eating, why don't you two tell me what's going on?"
I remain silent because first, I already gave Mac the nutshell version and second, because she's looking directly at Macy for an answer.
Macy leans forward in her chair, places an elbow at the table, and gives Mac a conspiratorial grin. It's a grin that I bet those two women have shared countless times in the past. "What can I say...? Cal is a beast in the bed," Macy croons at her. "He's hung like a bull, does amazing things with his tongue, and he--"
"Cut the crap," Mac growls at her best friend. "I don't ever want to know those things about Cal. He's my business partner, for God's sake."
Macy doesn't look in the least bit shamed, but rather entertained. I expect her to keep poking at Mac, but instead, she says, "We're in a relationship. A monogamous one."
I'm startled to hear her say that. Not because the words are shocking, because we agreed early on we'd be monogamous. I guess I'm just so surprised to hear Macy use the word "relationship" as if it were something she'd been saying her whole life.
It startles Mac too because her mouth hangs slightly open. "As in... what, dating exclusively?"
"Well, we just had our very first 'date' last night," Macy says, and she even puts up air quotes when she says the word "date", but it's not with any malice. "But yes... I'm not seeing anyone else."
Macy doesn't need to confirm that I'm not seeing anyone, because she knows Mac well enough and that includes Mac knowing me very well, which includes the absolute fact that I'm a one-woman kind of man.
Then Macy adds on--for my benefit, for Mac's--I'm just not sure. "And I don't want to see anyone else. At all."
I'm not sure what hidden meaning lay within those simple words, but whatever it is, it has an impact on Mac. Her eyes go round with some type of understanding that I don't get, and she whispers the word "Oh," almost like it's a prayer.
I know this isn't the norm... Macy dating.
Being monogamous.
Sharing.
But I almost get a feeling of dark foreboding when I consider the possible meaning of what's transpiring right now.
Macy says she doesn't want to see anyone else.
At all.
Almost as if it was a compulsion before.
Almost as if it was a... sickness?
Almost as if I was a... cure?
Neither woman looks over at me. It's like I'm not even in the room with them. Mac's eyes wide and seeking for more of an explanation, Macy's eyes darkly troubled with the need for approval from her friend.
It's my cue to leave.
"I'm going to go take a shower," I say as I set my cup down. I want to walk over to Macy and kiss her on the forehead. A simple gesture of support and affection, but I'm not sure if she's ready for me to do that in front of her best friend just yet. I very much long for the day when I don't have to calculate the consequences of my every action with this woman, but for now, I can accept it. Because today has been a huge day already and it's not even nine AM yet.
Macy has acknowledged me to her best friend, and although the words weren't exact, she is inferring that I am now important to her.
That's progress in my humble opinion.
Chapter 22
Macy and I decide to hit up a local bakery close to her apartment for breakfast after Mac leaves. She wasn't there long, so I'm not sure how deep of a conversation she and Macy were able to have, but I know before I even got dried off from my shower, Macy was back in the bedroom and pulling me on to the mattress where she did very wicked things with her tongue to me.
Which in turn caused me to reciprocate.
The point being, Macy's face was flushed rosy when we left her apartment, and things just kept getting better when she linked her fingers with mine as we walked the busy Manhattan streets.
I let Macy direct the conversation. While I'm dying of curiosity about what was said between her and Mac, I also know that Macy is such an intensely private person that I don't expect her to fill me in.
Because it's such a beautiful, summer day, we get bagels to go with some coffee and head over to a small park. Sharing a bench, our knees bumping companionably, Macy and I eat our breakfast and warily eye some
pigeons that encroach upon us.
"What are your plans the rest of the day?" she asks me timidly.
So very hesitant, and I know reluctantly, because Macy Carrington has never made plans to spend the day with a man before. I don't want to scare her off and almost as if I'm dealing with a wounded animal caught in a trap, I tell her, "No plans. Why? Want to do something?"
Macy smiles... big and bright... completely relieved to have not been rejected, and yet, I still see some uncertainty in her look. I let her work through it though, so I don't say a word. I let her come to me with a plan of action.
"Well," she says hesitantly. "Maybe we go do something like catch a matinee or go to a museum."
"Or go take a drive out in the country," I suggest.
"Or shopping," she throws in.
I grimace and immediately shake my head. Crumpling the white bakery paper that now holds nothing but crumbs, I toss it toward the trash can to my left and easily sink the shot. When I look back at her, I say in all seriousness. "Get this straight. There are many things I'll do for you, apparently one of which is let a man suck my cock, but I will never... and I repeat never... go shopping with you. It stands against everything I am as a man."
Macy ducks her head and chuckles, breaking off a piece of her bagel that's only half eaten. Before she pops in her in mouth, she says, "Got it. No shopping."
"Damn straight," I say as I stick my chin out, and she laughs again.
I watch a couple walking toward us. Married as evidenced by gold bands on their left ring fingers. They're not holding hands or even touching, but the way they're talking as they stroll along... inclining their heads close... laughing... oblivious to the rest of the world... well, you can just see the devotion. The love. The care. The loyalty.
Fuck, I want that, and the more I get to know Macy, I'm thinking I want that with her.
I want her... fucked up warts and all.
"Was it really awful for you?" Macy says out of the blue, and my head turns her way. "Going to Voyeur?"
We hadn't really talked about that night in any detail, and I'm surprised she brought it up. I think I was pretty clear I was never going back there, but now that I think about it... I don't think she understands why not.
Angling my body toward her on the bench, I lay my arm along her shoulders. "When people go to a sex club like that... some are looking for the rush. The thrill of it. Others are looking to expand their horizons, maybe spice up their sex lives. Some do it for the depravity, because to them... they've become a bit desensitized to sex, so they try to push the stakes."
Macy's eyes watch me guardedly, so I gently stroke a thumb over the top of her shoulder blade.
"I imagine that some of the people that go to those sex clubs are in very committed relationships," I continue while her gaze continues to penetrate me. "Some are just ships passing in the night and are only in it for the temporary high."
She doesn't say a word, but I see her throat work as she swallows and she clasps her hands on her lap.
"You and I... we were in the same room together, but we were miles apart in where we were that night," I say pointedly. "Do you understand what I mean by that?"
Macy gives me a nod and whispers, "I was a ship passing in the night, and you were more of an anchored vessel."
I give a deep laugh and lean in to kiss her temple. "Yeah... something like that. It's just... what we did to each other, what we let other people join in and do to us... letting people watch us... for me, that's something you would only do when there are very deep feelings of trust and love involved or you don't plan on seeing that person again. One or the other. It's not meant for someone like me, who is very unsure of where we stand. It's too unpredictable. It's too hard for me to filter the unknown feelings while trying to process the ways in which I was uncomfortable. I was a little too insecure."
"I'm really sorry," she says, but I quickly move my other hand and place the pads of my fingers over her lips.
"Don't," I say gruffly. "You already apologized and it's in the past. But to answer your question... it wasn't an overall good experience for me. If you and I were in a different place with each other, at another time... after we know more about each other, then yeah... it would have been fine."
"I would have never pushed that guy--"
Shaking my head, I tell her, "Listen... that was fucking weird for me, I'm not going to lie. Not sure I'd ever do it again, but trust me when I say... you didn't make me do anything. I tried it... for you, and we both got off. Okay? It was an experience, that's all."
"I'm so glad you didn't hold it against me," Macy says in a rush. "When I didn't hear from you for a few days, I figured I'd screwed things up. But when you texted me yesterday... I was so shocked. I really expected to never hear from you again."
My fingers slide into her hair, grasp the back of her head. I pull her toward me and give her a kiss. It's only meant to be a reassuring kiss, one of comfort and yeah... it's even one of commitment, because she has to know that after everything, I'm not running scared from her.
But it's hard to keep a kiss on the chaste side when Macy's tongue pushes into my mouth. She flicks it against my own, and then just as quickly pulls it out so she can bite my lower lip. She presses her teeth in until I can feel the sting, tugs for a moment, and then lets it loose. Her head tilts up, and her eyes penetrate me deep. "You're a good man, Mr. Carson."
"You're not so bad yourself, Miss Carrington," I tell her with a smile.
"So what are we going to do today?" she asks brightly as she stands from the bench and dumps her half-eaten bagel and paper in the garbage can.
"Let's go take a drive. Get out of the city," I suggest as I stand up and hold my hand out to her. "We'll have to stop by my place so I can get changed though."
Macy's hand grips onto mine as we start down the street back to her apartment. "Oooh. I get to see your domain," she says breathlessly. "We'll have to budget time in the day for us to break in a room or two."
My dick twitches at the thought, and I'm thinking there may be a very good chance we'll never make it out of my apartment. Which now that I think about it, is a completely fine way for us to spend a Saturday. Maybe even a weekend if I can talk her into it.
We walk two blocks, and then take a left heading north, then right onto Riverside Park where Macy's apartment is located. As soon as we turn the corner and her building is in sight, I immediately see a huge crowd of reporters surrounding the entrance, all being held at bay by two of the building's security personnel.
"I hate this shit," Macy mutters as we walk closer. "I'm sure some famous actor or musician has moved in. It's always like this the first few days, but then it will clear out."
I squeeze her fingers in mine and tease, "Did they do that when you moved in?"
Chuckling, Macy squeezes my hand back and in a relieved voice says, "No. I'm not the type of celebrity that causes reporters to come running. I'll leave the being-famous-just-for-having-money to the Paris Hiltons of the world."
As we approach the crowd, one of the security guards turns our way and the minute he sees Macy, his eyes fill with worry. I immediately go on guard, but nothing can prepare me for the first reporter who looks our way and shouts, "There she is."
En masse, the entire mob turns toward us and Macy goes rigid. I release her hand and put my arm around her shoulder, no clue what the fuck is going on, but prepared to protect her at any cost.
"Miss Carrington," someone shouts as the crowd pushes toward us like a huge, writhing blob.
"Miss Carrington," another cries. "Do you have any comment about the federal indictments handed down today?"
Macy gasps and looks up at me with fear. I squeeze her in tighter to my body and push forward, seeking the safety of her apartment building. One of the guards comes rushing down the front steps, pushing people aside to make room for us.
"Miss Carrington," a female reporter says as she shoves a microphone so close to Macy's face, I'm afraid it might h
it her. I give the microphone a slap and knock it away. It doesn't deter the woman though. "Miss Carrington, was it a shock when your father was arrested today?"
Macy jerks in my arms, but I don't give her time to pause. I keep pushing through the crowd until we reach the security guard, and he turns to lead us up to the doorway.
Then it's like a massive tidal wave of questions hitting Macy from all directions.
"Miss Carrington... do you own any Quarter Mine stock?"
"Miss Carrington... is your father guilty? What about your uncle?"
"Miss Carrington... when will the bail hearing be?"
"Miss Carrington... will you and your mother stand behind your father?"
"Miss Carrington... will there be any further charges filed?"
"Oh my God," Macy moans under her breath as we forge through the crowd, finally hitting the doorway and making it through. The guards keep the reporters out and the heavy glass door closes behind us, leaving just a dull rumble of unrecognizable voices behind.
As soon as my feet hit the marbled lobby, I take Macy's hand and start pulling her toward the elevator. I can feel her trembling, and I'm almost terrified to look at her face. I have no idea what the fuck is going on, but I heard enough out there to know that something awful is in progress. I have no clue how this will affect Macy because I'm still absolutely in the dark when it comes to her familial relationships.
One of the guards behind the security desk comes scrambling out. "I'm so sorry, Miss Carrington," he says while wringing his hands together. "They just showed up about five minutes ago, and I tried to call you on your cell but you didn't answer."
"I left it in the apartment," she mumbles, her eyes looking wide and vacant. I give the guard a polite nod and pull her along.
"Miss Carrington," he calls out as we brush by. "There are two federal agents here to see you. FBI. I let them up and they should be outside your apartment, waiting for you in the fifteenth-floor lobby."
"FBI?" she whispers, and the guard shrugs his shoulders apologetically.
"Thank you," I tell the guard and jab at the elevator button.
Macy's hand shakes inside mine, and so I do what comes naturally to me. I pull her into my embrace, and I hug her hard. "It's going to be okay," I murmur with my lips to her head.
Grind Page 13
