by BJ Harvey
“Yeah, babe?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Mac. I’m so glad you’re coming home. Everything is going to be okay.”
I grab whatever I can and stuff it into the two suitcases I have in the closet. I check that I’ve got only what I need, then carry the bags to the front door. I take my key off my key ring and place it on the kitchen counter. I take one last look around the empty room that has been my home for the past six months. Scratch that, I can’t even say it’s been a home. A home is full of love, and warmth, and for the past five months it’s been full of lies, deceit and if I’m going to be honest, fear.
“Goodbye, Beau Gregory,” I whisper as I click the lock and pull the door closed behind me.
Walking away from this life, I make a vow to myself; never again will my life be dictated by a man, and never again will I let love lead me astray.
But as I’ll soon find out not four years later, vows are made to be broken.
Four Years Later…
I’m on my way home after finishing a shift at the hospital. I’m just getting comfortable and texting Kate, when I drop my phone. Of course, it had to slide down the train away from me. Thankfully, being 8 p.m., the cab isn’t too full. Just as I’m about to get up and search the floor in a desperate last attempt to regain my life, hey, my phone is my life, don’t judge, I see him.
As luck would have it, my phone hit a strange man’s black loafer clad foot, and when I look up, I see said man making his way towards me. This man is sex on legs delicious. I totally clocked him when he got on the train at the stop after me. I’m amazed that I’m even coherent enough to notice anyone, given that I’m at the end of an eight hour day shift where I was rushed off my feet. I’m dog tired, but my mind is restless, wired, and you guessed it, horny.
Noah has been on a training course for the week, so there has been no chance of any on-call room hook ups, Sean has been out of town for business for the past few days, and Zander has had back to back bookings all week. It’s just been me, my trusty rabbit who, as luck would have it, has run out of juice, or option number three, this delectable man who is now walking towards me.
Ding, Ding, Ding! I pick door number three.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
He’s wearing a granite colored suit, the jacket hanging over his arm which is carrying a black leather briefcase. His white dress shirt has the sleeves rolled up, and he’s obviously finished work for the day because his top two buttons are undone, giving a slight glimpse of a tanned and toned chest that you just want to lick. I’m in businessman fantasy heaven, and he is being delivered to me on a plate, or in this case, a rattly, somewhat dirty, Chicago train.
But beggars can’t be choosers.
He’s totally caught me staring at him, his pearly white smile growing on his gorgeous face as he gets closer. I give him a slightly embarrassed, yet cute smile back, knowing that I’ve been caught checking him out. He holds his hand out to me when he reaches my seat, and being the socially awkward idiot that I am, I put my hand out to shake his, feeling absolutely mortified when I realize that he was only trying to hand my phone back.
“Sorry, is this your phone? It slid down the floor from this direction, and you’re one of the only people on the train without a phone or an e-reader in your hand, so I’m taking a lucky guess,” he says with a sly grin, thankfully not laughing at my social ineptitude.
“Yeah, that’ll be mine. Sorry to make you come all the way down here,” I reply, an uncontrollable blush creeping up my cheeks.
“Hey, it’s no problem. I don’t mind being given an excuse to talk to a beautiful stranger, on the L, at night, alone…”
His words are calculated. He somehow has managed to compliment me at the same time as chastising me for traveling alone on the L at night. Now that is talent! I feel a chill run up my spine at the sheer presence of this man.
“Makenna Lewis, but everyone calls me Mac,” I say, this time actually holding my hand out to shake his.
He looks down at my outstretched hand and drags piercing caramel colored eyes down my scrub clad body, his jaw twitching as he returns his gaze back to my face.
“Daniel Winters,” he replies, taking my hand in his and shaking it once while very deliberately dragging his hand slowly from mine, running the length of my fingers as he pulls away. I bite my lip as warm tingles travel from my fingers and up my arms, then shoot right down to my girly bits.
Holy hell, he’s got game, and it’s a game I want to play!
This man leaves Zander in his wake, and Zander is a professional stripper who gets paid to flirt.
“Where are you headed tonight? Have you just finished work, or just starting?” he asks, reaching up to hold on to the cabin’s overhead rail while he looks down at me with a raised eyebrow. That move brings my attention to his tailored shirt tightening over his toned biceps, and then I see it. It’s like my eyes are homing beacons looking for the slightest hint of skin. A small part of his shirt has come loose at his waist and has ridden up, giving me a glimpse of a tight set of abs and the smallest smattering of hair leading a trail south below his waistband. Lord knows I’m a sucker for tight abs and a happy trail.
C’mon, Mac, get it together, you’re drooling, and he’s waiting for an answer.
“Ah work, yeah, I just finished my shift at Northwestern,” I mutter, shaking my head to get rid of thoughts of him shirtless, and in my bed.
“Ah, a doctor then?” he asks with a smile.
“I’m a nurse in the ICU,” I answer back, the now stupid grin on my face getting wider as we sit there, smiling at each other.
“And how about you? Let me guess...a lawyer? No, wait, maybe an accountant? Nope, not that either. My last answer is undertaker.” I tilt my head and give him a returning ‘What’cha got for me now’ look.
He laughs and I literally stop breathing.
All of Daniel’s physical attributes are already measuring mighty high on the Makenna scale of hotness, but that laugh...the low baritone timbre that can stop wars, solve world hunger, and cure women of their need for underwear all at the same time...it is the work of the devil. I swear to God, all he’d have to do is lie there and laugh all day, and I swear I could sit on his chest and get off.
“I’m a stockbroker,” he finally tells me, leaning in and putting his spare arm on the back of my seat. “And I guess none of my sexy nurse jokes will win me any favors with you either, right?” I notice a slight upwards curl of his lips, and realize that he’s not only sexy and has a laugh that could make a nun horny, but he’s funny too.
Godammit!
“Probably not, but you never know your luck in the big city,” I muse.
He nods in agreement. “Duly noted.”
“So, you like to play with money then.” I can’t believe I’m being so blatant with this man. He smirks, and wouldn’t you know it, out come the dimples. Freaking adorable, cute as all hell divots on either side of his cheeks, dimples!
They’re going to be my downfall.
“I like playing with other people’s money,” he murmurs. His eyes have gone dark now.
“Sounds like fun. What else do you like to do?” Holy shit, Mac! Why don’t you just hump his leg already? Damn, I must need some sleep, or some rabbit relief, or something. I look down and blush again. I may talk a good game, but my blush always gives my self-conscious side away.
“Lots of things.” He pauses for a moment, long enough for me to look back up into those gorgeous eyes of his. My breath hitches when I see him looking back at me like I’m water and he’s dying of thirst. “Candlelit dinners, long walks...sex on the beach…”
He smiles as he says that last thing, especially when my eyes go wide.
Confidence simply exudes from him; he’s sure of himself, but not in an overly cocky way. But lord knows that I really want to know what he could do to me and vice versa.
“How about we start with my bed?” I say with a sexy smile and a wink.<
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And that is how I met Daniel Winters.
Daniel and I exchange numbers...well, he puts his number in my phone before handing it back, and we go our separate ways.
When I walk in the door, I find my best friend Kate sitting on the couch, legs up underneath her, nose deep in the latest issue of Cosmopolitan.
“Hey,” I say as I dump my messenger bag on the kitchen counter and throw myself down on the couch beside Kate.
“Hey, babe. How was your shift?”
“It was okay. Less eventful than my train ride home, that’s for sure.” I lean forward to grab the remote and click the TV on.
Without warning, the Cosmo magazine slams down on the table and Kate wrenches the remote from my hand, turning the TV off again.
“Spill! Nothing eventful happens on the train, so if you say something happened, it must be juicy,” she gushes, leaning in towards me excitedly.
I let the excitement of meeting Daniel rush through me once again. “Well, I met a guy-”
“What? Are the three you already have not enough?” she says jokingly.
“Ha-fucken-ha! I dropped my phone, and he picked it up and gave it back to me. Let me tell you, this man is fine. Actually, scratch that, he is the definition of fine. Businessman fine. Hotness wrapped up in a smoking hot volcano of fine,” I say rapidly. Thankfully, Kate is used to my rambling. She’s been my best friend since we were ten years old when I saved her from the playground bully who decided to pick on the red-headed, small bodied new girl who had just moved into our neighborhood. I actually punched him in the nose because he was chasing her with a pair of scissors, threatening to cut her hair. Since then, we’ve been stuck like glue. The only time we were apart was the six months I spent in Ohio.
“So, let’s talk about this smoking hot volcano of fine. What’s his name? What does he do? When are you seeing him again?” she rattles off. Kate is a little spit fire. As a hairdresser, she talks all day, so she has the habit of talking a million miles an hour.
“Well, he has the tightest set of abs I’ve ever seen.”
“Wait, how the hell did you see his abs already? God, Mac, I’m in awe of your ability to pick up men,” she says, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t get one date most of the time, let alone pick a stranger up on the L.”
“Hey, give me some credit. He was holding on to the overhead rail and his shirt came loose. I only caught a peek, swear to God, but hell if I don’t wanna see more. Anyway, he’s got the most captivating caramel colored eyes. First I got lost in them, then I saw the abs, then he popped out two of the most lickable dimples I have ever seen,” I say breathlessly. Even thinking about those dimples has my heart racing.
“And lord knows you’re a sucker for dimples,” she says with a grin. Noah, my doctor friend from work, has the most gorgeous dimple on one side that pops out with his panty dropping smile he flashes me frequently.
“Yes, yes I am,” I reply with a smile. Hmm, I wonder when Noah is getting back from his conference. I make a mental note to send him a text.
“And what else? What’s his name?”
“Daniel Winters.” I caress his name as I say it. It rolls off my tongue seductively, like it’s meant to be screamed out in climax. All this talk about Mr. Winters has me craving something warm in my bed, like now.
“Earth to Mac. What does he do?” the ever present Kate presses, frowning at me because she knows I’m lost in my thoughts.
“Ah, sorry. He’s a stockbroker. That’s not the best bit though. You want to know what he said next?” I tease, waiting for Kate’s typical over the top reaction.
“Oh my God, what did the holy hotness of fine say to you?” she says, almost bouncing with excitement.
“I asked him what he liked doing, you know, for fun. And without missing a beat he said candlelit dinners, long walks, and sex on the beach,” I say with a sly grin and a blush creeping up my face, still slightly embarrassed at my reply to him.
“And…” she says, looking at me, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“And I suggested that we start with my bed.”
“No, you didn’t! Holy shit, Mac, blunt much?” The fact that her mouth is agape at my answer gives me a hint that I’ve shocked her. It’s not something new to me. I shock Kate almost on a daily basis.
“Yup, why not?” I shrug my shoulders. I’ve been single and happy for the past four years; happily sexed up and fulfilled for the past eighteen months with three of the most accommodating and laid back guys I’ve ever met. What’s to complain about? If I see what I want, I go after it. I learned a long time ago that life is too short to wait around for good things to happen to you. You have to be proactive with this sort of thing.
“And?” She looks at me with her eyebrows raised.
“And we’re meeting up tomorrow night for a drink at 42nd Street Bar after my shift,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Nice! Does he have any hot single friends, maybe a smoldering older brother spawned from the same womb of heat?”
I crack up laughing. Kate’s always had a way with words. It’s one of the things I love about the girl. “Not sure, but I’ll find out for you,” I say with a wink.
“Knew I loved you for a reason, but I’m thinking we need to make this interesting now. I just read in here,” she picks up the Cosmo again, “that my three date rule is highly recommended. I think you should try it with Daniel.”
I cough. She can’t be serious. Three dates without sex? Holy God, my cookie will have packed up and left by then.
Kate believes in the three date rule, no sex until after three dates. If the guys aren’t in it for something other than a quick easy lay, they’ll stop calling after the first or second date. Kate’s philosophy is that three dates proves that there is some effort being made on his behalf. It works for her. It makes her happy, and when Kate is happy, I am happy. But not so much when she inflicts this rule on me!
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Three dates at least. Bet you can’t do it,” she adds with a smirk.
“Grrr, okay, you’re on. What do I get if I hold out?” I ask with interest.
“Dishes for a week?” she suggests with a grin, knowing how much I loathe cleaning.
“Dishes and laundry and you have a deal.”
“Okay, but I’m only agreeing because I know you can’t do it.” Her smile is huge now as she rubs her hands together with glee. She thinks this bet is a sure thing.
“Now, I need to get out of these scrubs and have a shower. Want to order in and watch Big Brother?”
“Sounds like a plan, Stan,” she says, flopping back on the couch and resuming her reading of the sixty-nine best sex positions for the female orgasm.
And that, my friends, is the beauty that is Kate McGuinness. Quick witted, straight to the point, and frustrating as hell. Well her three date rule is going to be!
After my shower, and our night of gorging on pizza and watching wannabes act like idiots on some reality TV show, I decide to call it a night and crawl into bed. Checking the time on my phone, I set my alarm for the morning. I’ve got one last day shift tomorrow, then I have a three day weekend, and tomorrow night I’m meeting up with Delicious Daniel. Who knows where that will lead?
I snuggle down under the blankets and start to check my emails when I feel my phone vibrate with a text message. It’s 11 p.m. Who would be texting me at this time of night? With a smile, I open the message, half expecting a horny text from Zander or a schedule check with Noah, but I see that it is from someone called “Sex on the beach.” I crack up laughing at his audacity. I love his sense of humor already. He doesn’t pull any punches, obviously. He’s a bit like me in that respect.
I haven’t always been like this. I got sucked into an abusive and toxic relationship four years ago and vowed to never have my life dictated by a man again, and to never fall in love. I’ve followed one of those vows, and only broken the other when Sean gets me on my knees and makes me
beg for him. And then he does this thing where he….wait, oh yeah, the text from Daniel a.k.a. Sex on the beach.
Sex on the Beach: Hey, beautiful stranger, I’m lying in my bed fantasizing about all of the ways I can make you blush tomorrow night. It’ll be a challenge and a pleasure, for both of us.
Wowzers. This man is trouble with a capital T, and that’s just the kind of trouble I need.
Mac: Sex on the Beach is a fantastic drink. It’s fruity with an awesome aftertaste that stays on your tongue for hours.
Sex on the beach: You’re trouble, you know that?
Mac: Trouble can be fun.
Sex on the beach: I bet you are. But let’s get the drinks and awkward first date out of the way first, shall we? I am a southern gentleman after all.
My inner monologue is actually speechless. That is one for the record books. He’s played me at my own game and left me literally dumbstruck.
Mac: A southern gentleman who names himself Sex On The Beach?
Sex on the Beach: I’m an optimist, what can I say? By the way, I’m looking forward to seeing you out of those scrubs.
Mac: Whoa!
Sex on the Beach: Shit! No, I meant in casual, non work clothes, not scrubs. Dammit. I should quit while I’m ahead, right?
Mac: See you tomorrow night, Delicious Daniel ;)
Sex on the Beach: Sweet dreams, beautiful stranger.
Damn, all this flirting and text banter has me wet and aching. I reach into my bedside drawer, thanking the heavens that I stopped to buy batteries on the way home. God knows that I was already horny as hell before I met Delicious Daniel. Now that I’ve discovered he has a dirty mind, that feeling has simply multiplied.
With the flick of a switch, and a quick tug down of my pajama bottoms, I’m soon stroking my favorite purple rabbit vibrator against my increasingly wet pussy. I close my eyes, pushing the vibrating tickler firmly against my aching clitoris as my left hand gently squeezes my nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, sending an exquisite pulse straight to my pussy.
