by Aubrey Watts
Macon frowns. “Is that what you wanted?”
I meet eyes with him again and bite down on my bottom lip. The truth is—I’m not entirely sure what I want.
“I don’t know,” I say, glancing between the trees. “Maybe. I mean…we met in a club, after all. My expectations weren’t too high…”
Macon exhales a stream of smoke from his nostrils and nods.
“What about now?” he questions, taking a step towards me. He reaches for my waist and pulls me against him. “What do you want now?”
Questions…
He’s full of them.
“I don’t know,” I repeat, “I…I already told you. I don’t usually do this sort of thing.”
There’s a lapse of silence between us that isn’t entirely uncomfortable. Macon’s eyes burn against mine. I start to let go of the possibility that this is fleeting, because the way he looks at me isn’t.
“What were you thinking when you approached me?”
“Just…” I start, searching for the right words.
Macon laughs. “Be straight with me, Cassandra. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
I meet eyes with him and swallow hard. “I was thinking that you were different than any man I’ve ever met.”
“In a good way.”
It’s not entirely a lie. Macon is different. This whole situation is different, but I don’t find myself regretting any of the decisions that have lead us to this clearing.
“What about you?” I say, giving him a poke in the chest. “What were you thinking about me? Aside from how different I was from my friends.”
Macon smiles.
“I think I’m going to keep that a secret for awhile,” he whispers, pressing his lips against mine.
Chapter 10
I’m breathless.
Macon traces a finger along my jaw line, down my neck, finding shelter in my cleavage. I can feel goose bumps surfacing on my flesh, threatening my resolves.
This isn’t the time or the place for this, but we’re both in too deep to stop now. He pulls away from me, breathless, and a serious look surfaces in his expression.
“What?” I breathe, sitting up in the grass, “what is it? Did I do something?”
He laughs and shakes his head, gripping my knee. “No, of course not,” he says, “It’s just…I’ve never met a woman like you before.”
My heartbeat quickens. “What kind of woman am I?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “A damn amazing one,” he says simply, “I’ve never met a girl who could handle my brothers and my dad pretty much all in one sitting, for starters. Or even me, for that matter.”
“And you certainly know how to kiss.” He gestures with a smile. “I’ll have to thank who ever taught you that.”
I smile back at him and blush.
“I want something to come out of this,” he whispers, suddenly serious, “do you?”
His question lingers in the air. I resist the urge to blurt out a strained, ‘yes!’—Not wanting to seem desperate. “Maybe,” I whisper, breaking his gaze. “I just think you had the right idea. You know, when you said that we should take things slow.”
“Yeah.” Macon shrugs. “But I think that kind of went out the window when we boarded a plane across the country together…don’t you?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know,” I whisper, letting go of his hand, “I just...I just don’t want to rush into anything. I was engaged, you know. For five years, to a man I thought was perfect for a long time. And—“”
Rambling.
I’m doing it again.
Macon holds out a hand to stop me from talking and the furrow between his brows softens. He pulls me back against his chest. “It’s okay,” he whispers into my hair, pressing a kiss against my temple. “I didn’t mean to come off sounding like an ass. Of course we can take things slow.”
I smile into him and rub my hands up his arms, resting them on his shoulders. “You can kiss me, though,” I whisper.
He does just that, bending his head so that his mouth fits perfectly against mine. I run my hands over his jaw, down his chiseled body, over the dark lines of his tattoos. He’s back on top of me in the grass in seconds and his lips quickly find their way to my neck. He pulls at the fabric of my blouse and pushes it up my stomach, but I reach down to stop him.
“Wait,” I gasp, pulling away from him, “we can’t do this here—“
“Shh.” He presses a finger against my mouth and angles his head just right so that his full lips find mine. I can feel his bruised nose brushing against my face, but he doesn’t stop.
“What about taking things slow?”
“I’ll be slow.”
He nibbles on my right earlobe. I can feel his breath hot against the cusp of my neck as he works on the buttons of my shirt with unsteady hands, furrowing his brows to concentrate.
“Wait,” I gasp, sitting up. Macon reaches forward to pick a leaf out of my hair. I bite down on my swollen bottom lip and meet eyes with him. “Do you have something?”
“Oh…” I watch him pull a leather wallet out of his pocket. He slides a condom out of it and holds it up. “Yeah.”
His mouth finds mine again and I lay back down in the grass, allowing his calloused hands to travel down the length of my body and between my legs.
“Fuck,” he groans. I gasp and lift my buttocks from the ground as he slides my cotton underwear down my legs. My blouse is unbuttoned and my abdomen is completely exposed. He runs a finger down my waist, over my bellybutton.
“I was right…”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”
He nods and reaches up to cup the swell of my cleavage. “About you, I mean. I don’t know…” He pulls slightly away from me and shakes his head. “I haven’t been right about anything in awhile.”
I smile at him, reaching up to pull him back against me. The buds of my nipples are rock hard and apparent beneath the satin fabric of my bra. I’m on full display, and he’s still clothed.
I reach up and grasp the fabric of his t-shirt. He helps me pull it over his head as he undoes his belt with his free hand. I can feel his arousal pulsating against my thigh. I want him so badly I can’t even think straight, and when I tell him so, he groans and unbuttons his jeans. I wrap my legs around him to help work them down his hips. We meet eyes, briefly, and I open my mouth to say something, but the words don’t come and Macon presses his lips against mine before I can.
His hands are all over me. It’s impossible to concentrate on anything other than the way his mouth moves against mine. His long, calloused fingers touch me slowly and with purpose.
“I want you to say it.”
I frown, not following.
“Tell me you want me, this.”
“Why,” I say, “because it’s not obvious?”
I don’t mean to sound as sarcastic as I do. Macon rolls his eyes at me and tickles me, catching me off guard. When it’s finally over, he adjusts himself above me with a satisfied grin. The tattoos on his biceps ripple as the muscles move; a simple gesture that only serves to turn me on even more.
“Ok,” I relent, “I want you. Badly.”
He lowers his mouth back to mine. I run my hands up his chiseled chest, resting them on his collarbone. His unruly facial hair tickles my face, but I don’t mind. I want this. I’ve wanted it from the moment I laid eyes on him; I just didn’t know it then.
“I’m sorry I just—”
He pulls away from me again. I’m getting tired of the teasing. I’m not sure how much more I can handle. He looks at me quizzically, and as annoyed as I am, it’s endearing.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?”
I sigh into him, resting my forehead against his chest.
“Macon…”
“Because if you aren’t, we don’t have to do it, you know. We have all the time in the world for th—”
I press a finger against his lips.
“I know that,” I whisper, “but I’m sur
e. I want this.”
He looks relieved. I moan softly as he palms my breasts. The heat of his hands feels incredible. His bulge pulsates against my inner thigh, begging for entrance inside of me, but I’ve never been the one to make the first move, and now isn’t any exception. Luckily, Macon is quick to pick up on this. He shucks down his briefs with a single move of his wrist and spreads my legs, pushing up the fabric of my skirt.
“God, you’re perfect.”
He rubs a finger over my stomach and adjusts himself above me. I think, fleetingly, of his brothers, and I wonder if they or anyone else would be able to see us from our spot in the brush if they came down the trail.
Macon seems to read my mind.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers, trailing his hands down my body, “no one can see us. My brothers never come this way. I kind of…I brought you this route for a reason.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. He smiles at me and holds my gaze for a moment. I brush his hair out of his face to get a better look at him. He’s the perfect one, with timelessly handsome features that give little way to his actual age.
He grips my waist and lowers himself so that his face is just above my mound. I moan, fully of aware of what’s to come. I’ve only ever experienced this once, and I had to ask for it. Stephen wasn’t exactly keen on oral unless he was on the receiving end.
“Oh god…”
I tense slightly at the shock of Macon’s tongue coming into contact with my wetness.
“This is…”
I grab a handful of his hair and lose hold of my words. Because he’s good at this, almost too good, and maybe I should have expected that. He looks up from between my legs. His full lips glisten with my moisture.
“Is it too much?”
No, I think, absolutely not.
I shake my head at him, unable to speak, easing his head back down between my thighs. I’m definitely not ready for this to be over yet. I feel him chuckle slightly against the warmth of my folds, then, his tongue darts skillfully back between them.
I moan. I want him, need him, even, and it becomes more and more obvious with every precise flick of his tongue. I shiver and grip him tighter as his lips finds their way to my clitoris. I’m unable to stay quiet. My moans are high-pitched and almost guttural in nature. I can feel my peak approaching, hard and fast, and it takes everything inside of me to hold it back.
I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better look at him and his eyes smile up at me. It’s clear that he’s enjoying this as much as I am. His tongue begins to lash against me even faster, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. He knows every trick in the book, and even more than that—exactly how to execute them.
My orgasm is the most intense one I’ve ever experienced; it pulses through me like a freight train, a feeling that vibrates in my head and works its way all the way down to the tips of my toes. I tense beneath him, then, after the rush has passed, I let go off his hair and collapse in a sweaty heap in the grass.
It takes a while for reality to sink back in.
Macon props onto his side beside me and tucks an elbow under his ear. I can feel him studying me, but my head is still pounding, and I don’t have the energy to return his gaze.
“That was…amazing.”
Before I can comprehend what I’m doing, I sit up and ease myself down between his legs. I’ve never been confident in my oral skills, but the rational part of me tells me that it’s only fair. Macon groans and lays flat on his back. I study his manhood and swallow hard.
He’s huge.
I shouldn’t be surprised, but I kind of am. His cock is the largest one I’ve ever seen up close—at least nine inches long with four in girth, and I find myself wondering how I’ll ever be able to handle it.
He looks down and frowns at me.
“Everything okay?”
I nod my head.
“Of course, It’s just…”
“Just?”
“You’re quite…big…”
He chuckles. I wrap my fingers around his base and he lets out a deep groan. I smile in satisfaction, watching as he clenches his teeth and closes his eyes. I use one hand to stroke his length, and I cup his balls with the other. Every twitch and groan that passes over his lips encourages me to pick up pace. He tilts his head back and grabs at a patch of grass.
“You’re so sexy,” he says, low and sultry. He reaches forward to grasp my arm. “But I had something else in mind.”
Shit, I think, feeling my face flush of color. I’ve fucked it all up. I pull away from him in embarrassment but he’s quick to pull me back.
“No, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” He pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear and forces me to look at him. “You’re amazing. I just, I want you to let me make you feel good right now…”
“Because I get the feeling that no other man has…”
“Not even your fiancé.”
Goosebumps.
I can feel them again, crawling their way down my flesh.
“Ex-fiancé,” I correct, swallowing hard.
“Right…Ex-fiancé.”
Macon leans into me and steers things back in the right direction. I gasp as his mouth makes contact with one of my erect nipples. He licks away at me and pinches the other one between his fingers. I can feel his erection pressing against me. He grabs hold of it and eases me back down into the grass, lining the head of his cock up with my entrance. I wrap my legs around him and bite down on my bottom lip, gasping as he pushes himself inside of me.
I feel like I’m floating above myself, watching this whole thing unfold between two other people. Macon groans and begins to thrust his hips, forming a rhythm for each one of his strokes.
“God,” he growls, reaching up to run his hands through my hair. “You’re so tight. Do you know how tight you are?”
The meaty head of his cock brushes against the soft pad of my g-spot and I moan, flushing of color. “Please,” I gasp, clawing at his back.
Our bodies stick to each other from sweat. He leans forward and rocks his hips. I bring my hands to his buttocks and he clenches them.
“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me! Harder!”
I dig into his biceps so intensely I’m surprised I don’t draw blood.
“Please, I’m so close…”
We meet eyes, briefly, and he flashes me a mischievous smile. I inhale sharply as he kisses my neck and picks up speed. I spread my thighs further apart to welcome him and he pulls out of me before plunging even deeper inside. We fit together like a puzzle.
“Oh my god, Macon, I might…”
He continues rocking, steady and fast, not breaking his rhythm. I can tell by the expression etched across his chiseled face that he’s close too. His breaking point is swiftly approaching.
“You feel so good,” he says, watching me wither beneath him. I feel him tense, then, he lets out a loud, guttural groan. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m going to…”
It’s too late. Before he can finish his sentence, his eyelids flutter shut and his grip on my flesh tightens. His breathing becomes more ragged, laced with noises I’ve never heard any man make. I dig my nails deeper into his back and ride a wave of my own, urging him to cum.
I want to tell him so many things—that this is amazing. That I’ve never felt anything like it before. But now isn’t the time for words—only actions. His chest rises and falls against my own. I’m aware of every pulse in his body as he reaches his peak and empties himself inside of me. He groans louder with every drop of cum that leaves his body. I gasp, feeling his muscles contract against mine. It’s all it takes to catapult me into a mind numbing orgasm of my own.
“That’s it, baby…”
Macon wipes my hair out of my face.
“Come on…”
His sultry encouragement only adds to the effect, and before I can process what is happening, Macon rolls over onto his back and takes me with him. The sudden change in altitude cat
ches me off guard, but I adjust. He grips my waist as I straddle him, and I ride him for all it’s worth, gasping as he reaches up to pinch my nipples.
When the ripples slowly start to die away, I collapse with him still inside of me, resting my head in the crook of his neck; this all feels so unreal.
“Jesus,” he whispers, clenching his teeth. He pulls out of me and reaches down to remove the condom, tossing it aside. He kisses the top of my forehead and shifts his weight so that we are nestled on our sides. Then, he wraps his arms around me and holds me against his dampened chest.
My eyes drift shut as our heartbeats become one.
Chapter 11
Macon’s brothers are already at the house when we get there. We’re gathered around the kitchen table eating the breakfast Macon’s mother prepared—eggs, bacon, toast. The works. It’s like something out of little house in prairie, except a lot more tense.
“Adam, honey, will you pass the butter.” It’s the first thing anyone has said in awhile. Lucy holds out her hands to her youngest son and he passes her the plate of melting butter. Alma is beside him with her eyes glued to her lap. She’s freshly showered, with the help of her mother, and her flaxen hair is pulled into a neat ponytail at the top of her head. There’s a plate full of uneaten food in front of her. Every now and then, Nolan looks up from his morning paper and grunts in her direction.
No one talks about Macon’s busted nose, or the broken glass cabinet in the corner of the room, even though they both are eyesores. Macon reaches for my hand beneath the table and gives it a squeeze. I smile up at him, small and tight. I don’t want to look too happy, but inside, my heart is swelling. I’ve never been this close to any man before, and even though the events that brought us together are somber, I can’t help but feel lightheaded as he laces his fingers through mine.
“Trent,” Nolan says, flipping the page in his paper. He finished eating a long time ago and is now chewing on the end of a toothpick. “I’m going to need you to head into town with me today; we have some equipment to pick up.”
“Sure pops,” Trent says through mouthfuls. He nudges Macon in the side. “I’m bringin’ Macon, though.”
Macon shrugs and gives his brother a sour look. “Sure,” he says flatly, avoiding eye contact with his father.
