Mac's Law

by Sarah McCarty

  Mac eased his hand from between her thighs. It slid down the front of her leg, coating her with her juices.

  “Turn around, honey girl,” he ordered softly, as if knowing she was on overload. She grunted, but didn’t move. His hands on her shoulders pulled her back. She went, a formless puddle of unfulfilled womanhood. He merely sat her up. She lolled against the seat and cracked her eyes. “That was hotter than I imagined.”

  His smile was tender as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m glad, but you didn’t come.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  He looked through the cab and out the window, the direction in which she was making a point not to look. “I think you wiped Zach out.”

  “I hope you know that I have no intention of ever looking at him again,” she gasped through ragged breaths.

  “Now that’s going to complicate things.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I see him often.”

  “Oh hell.” She’d forgotten about that. Which meant for sure she’d be seeing him again, which Mac had known all along. She opened her eyes a little wider. “You planned this?”

  At least that explained why they’d parked way over here.

  “We discussed it.”

  “You discussed it?”

  He touched her lip before easing her down on the seat so she was lying on her uninjured side with her head by the open door. “You don’t think I’d hunt up strangers, do you?”

  “Well I didn’t think you’d choose someone you knew!”

  He smiled that bad boy grin before leaning over and kissing her mouth tenderly. “I would never risk you to a stranger, honey girl.” He unzipped his suit pants and slid them down a little. Pulling his cock out, he rested its heavy weight on the seat in front of her face. He was wondrously hard. Thick.

  “Open your mouth.”

  She did, letting the crown slide gently in, snuggling the broad head against her tongue as he worked it past her teeth.

  He touched her cheek. She opened wider. He pushed deeper. She suckled him gently, eagerly, loving the salty taste that slowly spread into her mouth as his excitement increased.

  The driver’s side door opened. She jerked. Mac placed his hand on the side of her head, keeping her put.

  “Just suck my cock, Jessie.”

  Her skirt was lifted. A draft of warm air caressed her skin as a broad palm slid over her buttocks.

  “She didn’t come?” Zach asked in his deep voice.

  Oh God. Jessie wanted to sink into the floor. At the same time she wanted to press into his broad fingers when they dipped into the crease of her ass. She didn’t do either.

  “We’re working on it,” Mac grunted, his touch on her cheek steady and soothing, guiding her through the embarrassment.

  Zach’s fingers slid between her thighs, gliding easily through her slick folds, finding her engorged clit and pinching delicately.

  “Oh, you’re almost there aren’t you, Jessie?” he murmured as she jumped and moaned at the light touch. “Just a little more is all you need.”

  Panic flared and her gaze flew to Mac’s. She needed more than that. She needed Mac to come, but she’d die of humiliation if he told Zach that. And oh God, she needed to come.

  Mac shook his head, and caressed the sensitive corner of her mouth. She’d never seen such a combination of lust and tenderness on a man’s face before. Then, with a drift of his fingers, he closed her eyes.

  Zach’s hands slid back toward her vagina. She flinched.

  Mac stilled and growled. Zach’s low laugh filled the cab.

  “Like that is it?”

  The heel of Mac’s hand pressed against her cheek and his hips shifted slightly as he shrugged. His thumb touched the corner of her mouth possessively.

  “Looks like it.”

  Her skirt eased down over her legs as Zach said, “You always did have the devil’s good luck.”

  Zach stroked her thigh. There was something akin to sadness in the touch. A hint of regret as his hand drifted down her calf and then off. The truck door closed. The unnatural stillness faded from Mac’s stance as an engine roared to life. It wasn’t until the truck drove away that she dared to look up.

  Mac was gazing down at her, his expression serious as he pumped his cock in and out of her mouth. “There might be a hitch in knocking off the last item on that list,” he told her gruffly.

  She raised her eyebrows at him.

  “I find I’m a little too possessive of you to share.”

  If she could have smiled, she would. Instead she opened her mouth wider, shifted the angle of her neck lower so she could take him deeper.

  “I take it you don’t mind?”

  She shrugged and rolled her eyes. It was a little hard to talk at the moment.

  He laughed and slid his hand behind her head, pulling her closer as he leaned forward. His thick cock forced her jaws even further apart as the bulbous head hit the back of her throat. She choked. And struggled.

  He backed off, smoothing his fingers over the muscles in her throat. “Shh, honey girl.” His fingers came to rest against her neck. “Just relax.”

  She breathed through her nose as he massaged her throat. The spasm subsided. He slipped his cock from her mouth.

  It pulsed just beyond her lips. Hard. Hot. Full.

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” She rolled her eyes.

  “Well?”

  “Why do we always have to go through this true confession thing every time we make love?” She kissed the tip of his cock, tickling the slit with her tongue. His harshly drawn breath was music to her ears. She did it again.

  He shook his head at her, the right corner of his mouth kicking up in a smile as he backed his cock out of her reach.

  “Have you?”

  She frowned at the distance between his cock and her mouth, then up over his broad chest to the determined expression on his handsome face. And sighed. He clearly wasn’t going to give her what she wanted until she ‘fessed up. “Only with you.”

  “Ah.”

  “What does ‘ah’ mean?”

  “Ah means I understand.”

  She got her elbow under her side. “What’s to understand?”

  He tried to hold her down, but she was done being passive. She managed to rise up an inch. The smile on his face broadened.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” she pointed out.

  “I’m not intending to.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ear, the calluses on his fingers rasping the sensitive flesh. “I want your mouth, honey girl.”

  Oh God, when he said things like that to her in that slow, deep drawl that slid over her nerves like a lingering caress, she was helpless to do anything except shiver and give him what he wanted. Which right then was her mouth. On his cock. She looked at the beautiful organ sitting right before her. So tempting. Oh yes, she had no trouble giving him that.

  She leaned in. He took a step forward. And they both had what they wanted.

  “Ah, that’s good,” he moaned as she tongued the broad head, swirling around the perimeter, flirting with the slit. “Just like that, Jess. Just use your mouth. Nothing more. Just that sexy, hot little mouth. Suck it, honey girl. Let me feel you suck it, soft and sweet.”

  She did. Gladly. She loved the way he played with her. Shared with her. Gave her what she wanted. Let her be what she wanted. And he did it with complete ease, as if he didn’t know how precious that was to her.

  She held him gently in her mouth, being as tender as possible, judging from the tension in his hands and the break in his breath whether she was doing it right. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and braced one forearm against the top of the truck.

  “Harder now, Jessie.” His voice was rougher than normal as he began to pump gently. “Suck me harder as I pull out. Swirl your tongue over me when I come in.”

  She did. His big body shook. She glanced at his face. He definitely
liked this. She had power over him like this. The same power he wielded when he worked his magic on her. And she knew why he liked it now. It was a heady experience gifting someone’s pleasure. His hips moved faster. She struggled to keep up, finally just resorting to a steady suction which he seemed to like just as much.

  “Oh yeah, honey girl.” His voice was a rasp of pleasure as he added, “Harder.”

  She gave him harder, he gave her deeper. She wanted to give him more. She remembered what he’d told her that day in the kitchen. She pulled her lips off her teeth. As he pulled back, she scraped them gently against his shaft.

  He gave a shout. There was a stinging in her scalp as he jerked his hand free of her hair and grabbed the base of his cock. His head fell back and he groaned. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his expression. For all the world he looked like a man stretched taut on a rack. And she was his instrument of torture. How fun.

  She bobbed her head on him, taking him as far as she could, all the way down to the barrier of his hand. She tilted her head back and waited. Until he looked down. She held his gaze, smiling with her eyes as she set her teeth against him. And then slowly, deliberately, dragged her teeth up his length. All the way to the crown.

  “Son of a bitch, Jessie, I’m going to come if you do that.”

  “I thought that was the plan.” His cock muffled her words, but he got her point. He swallowed twice and frowned down at her.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  She just smiled around his shaft, and waited.

  “Ah, honey girl, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

  His hand clenched on his shaft. His cock throbbed in her mouth. And she just waited. She knew what she wanted, but she wasn’t going to beg, and she wasn’t going to let him get all crazy and protective on her either. He made the tiniest move forward as if against his will. It was all she needed.

  She sucked him in and let him out. Using her tongue and teeth to tempt him, bring him closer to that edge he thought she couldn’t handle. He pumped harder, faster, but still she could feel the hesitancy in him. She worked her hand out from under her body and slid into the vee of his fly. He cursed again, but she was getting used to that. No longer thinking the worst when he did, she kept going until she could cup the heavy weight of his balls in her hand. He bucked against her.

  When she squeezed his balls, it was gentle. Her mouth on his cock was not. There she made demands. Lapping and sucking and nibbling until he had no option but to give her what they both wanted. He came with a muffled shout of her name, his cock jerking and leaping, his seed a sudden salty wash over her tongue. Filling her mouth with his pleasure. His satisfaction. Letting her give him, just this once, something he gave her all the time. Unconditional acceptance. She stroked his cock, swallowed his seed and accepted the gift.

  When it was over, he leaned into the truck, his hand on her cheek trembling with the aftershocks. He eased out of her mouth, chuckling at her moue of dissatisfaction. He turned her until her legs dangled off the end of the seat. She let her head loll back on the warm leather, ripples of satisfaction arching out over her body in ebbing waves. His calloused palms slid up her calves, over her knees, across her inner thighs, spreading her legs as he went. And then his cock was pressing, nestling into the well of her vagina.

  “Relax for me, honey girl.”

  “Again?”

  “Oh yeah. Again.”

  He forged into her, his stroke slow and smooth, every inch of his flesh a lingering caress. Almost a cherishing. His lips at her breasts were equally tender. His fingers swirling on her clitoris, gentle. It was sweet. So hot and sweet. She never knew sex could be so sweet. The desire from before pooled in her center, rising with each slow possession until it poured over her, flowing out from her core in a molten tide of need that caught his rhythm, fed off his desire. She wrapped her arms around his ribs and pulled him closer. She needed him closer. So close there wasn’t a breath of air between them. So close there was no telling where he ended and she began.

  Over and over he filled her with the thick weight of his shaft, taking her to the edge again, slowly, gently holding her there with the lightest of touches. And when she couldn’t stand it anymore, when the pleasure stretched her so far out on a rack of pure grinding delight that she knew she’d shatter if he didn’t help her, then and only then did he come for her, freely giving her what she needed, like he’d promised he always would. His rich seed drenching her in a warm rain of pleasure, sending her flying into the bliss beyond, her muscles clenching around him over and over. And through it all she held him close, smoothing her hands over his heaving ribs, loving the way he felt in her arms, the way he gave himself to her. For her. Just plain loving him.

  A few minutes later, he braced himself on his elbows above her. Cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs smoothed over the corners of her mouth, her lower lip. His face was heavy with satisfaction, his lips full, his gaze intent. Still, she never saw it coming.

  “Jessie?

  “What?”

  “I’m keeping you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He was keeping her. Oh yeah, Jessie snorted in disgust. Like a butterfly in a collection. A piece of porcelain under glass, he was “keeping her”. Using her good hand, Jessie grabbed a chicken wing from the huge mound on the counter and lobbed it onto the cutting board. If Mac “kept her” any longer like he’d been keeping her for the last two weeks, she was going to go borrow Will’s shotgun and fill the man’s sexy ass with buckshot. Keeping her. Right.

  Scooping up a butcher knife, Jessie hacked the chicken wings into two parts and tossed them into a big bowl. She wished she could hack through whatever Mac’s issue was with the same ease. She tossed another wing onto the cutting board. The man was driving her crazy with his hovering and worrying. He’d been driving her nuts since she’d broken her arm, but she’d been too caught up at first in their sexual games to notice.

  Or maybe he hadn’t been so bad at first. She wasn’t sure. She just knew that with every day that passed, Mac’s protective urges encroached more on her space. And she’d about had her fill. This time, she severed the joint so hard the wing went sailing across the kitchen. Damn, that was the tenth one this morning. At this rate, she wasn’t going to have enough buffalo wings to feed two hands, let alone the ten she was expecting at supper tonight.

  As she bent to retrieve the errant wing from the floor, a movement behind the screen door caught her attention. The scuffed tops of well-worn brown boots covered by the frayed ends of equally worn jeans showed above the jamb. As she stood, she followed the path of those jeans up over strong lean thighs, a huge belt buckle setting off lean hips, and a narrow waist that quickly veed out to a broad chest and even broader shoulders. When she reached her full height she was still a good foot shorter than the man before her so she tipped her head back and let her eyes journey the rest of the way. As she met Will’s slate-gray eyes, it hit her that for all he had to be in his late forties, he was still a very masculine man.

  “Hi, Will. What’s up?” she asked as he took off his hat and stepped inside. “Is something wrong?”

  He paused and raised his eyebrows at her. “Why would you think anything’s wrong?”

  Jessie checked her watch as she tossed the piece of meat into the trashcan. “Because it’s ten in the morning, and in all the time I’ve been here, no one’s come knocking at the back door before lunch.”

  He nodded toward the clunky cast on her forearm. “I just thought I’d see how you were doing, and if you needed any help.”

  “Was this your idea or Mac’s?”

  The hat in his hand started a slow rotation. He watched it spin a second before casting a glance from under his dark brows. “A little of both. Until Suzie can get over here to help on a regular basis, someone will be checking in regularly.”

  Jessie wasn’t buying that for a minute. Help with the two-handed stuff was going to be great, and the teen they’d hired was a nice
young woman, but she was doing fine in the interim with easy-to-cook one-handed meals.

  “Mac sent you to check on me, didn’t he?”

  Will’s shrug was technically neither a “yes” nor a “no”.

  “What does he think is going to happen to me?”