Road to Reality (Road Series Book 3)

by Ann, Natalie

  Minutes later, both short of breath, Mac reminded her, “And you said you didn’t get to see much of me last night, or touch me?” He whispered against her mouth, “Now is your chance.”

  It was her chance and she took advantage of it. She reached up to grasp the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “I really love your chest and I didn’t have nearly enough time to touch it this morning, either.”

  Running her hands up his torso, mimicking the action from in his kitchen hours earlier, she leaned forward and placed her lips over the same path her hands moved. Small kisses, soft, quick, gentle, enough to drive him insane. He sucked his breath in sharply and stood rigid as she explored each curve and contour of his ribs, abs and chest.

  Hands up his chest, over his shoulders, down his arms to his fingers, back to his waist, now unfastening his shorts, she was ruthless in her examination of him. Quickly, she pushed his shorts down, her eyes roaming over him completely. With a deep breath, she reached out her long slim fingers, trailing them up and down the length of him, much like she had his torso moments ago.

  That simple touch made his skin tingle, then sizzle, sending him straight to heaven. He hadn’t had nearly enough time to play with her yet either, and if she kept up those innocent caresses of hers, this time would be over too soon, also.

  Grabbing both of her hands in his, holding them at her sides, he leaned in and captured her mouth with his, feeling her heat, tasting her burn. Absently releasing her hands, he disrobed her as she had him. First her shirt, then her shorts, until they were both standing there naked.

  She gasped when he picked her up, cradling her in his arms, and set his lips to her perky nipple as he walked to the bed. Laying her down, he came down on top of her, mouth never leaving her breast.

  His hand moved up, cupping, squeezing and massaging her. He continued to lavish attention with his mouth, his tongue, then lips sucking, drawing her in, nipping at her, teasing her endlessly as she had him.

  “Mac,” she said with a moan, twisting under his body.

  Breaking away and moving down her waist, he dipped his tongue in the concave of her belly button, then down further to her bare flesh. So smooth, waiting for him like an invitation to feast.

  And he was starving. Placing his hands on her inner thighs, he spread her wider, exposing more of her, his tongue barely touching the secrets that lay within.

  Her hips bolted off the bed. “Oh my God,” she cried out. Her hands went to his head, holding him there when he applied more pressure with his tongue. He repeated the same motions as he did her breasts, licking, sucking, and drawing her in. Until at once, way too soon again, she was panting out his name.

  When at last her breathing leveled out, her hands dropped limply from his hair while he moved up her stomach, to her breast, then her mouth, positioning his lips over hers. “So fast again,” he murmured. “You make me feel so powerful, that I can do that to you so quickly.”

  A slight blush formed across her face. “You haven’t yet though.”

  “No, I didn’t. But I will. And so will you, again. Maybe again after that.” He smiled a wicked smile, his eyes expressing untold secrets of pleasure to come.

  “What? No, I can’t,” she argued.

  “Oh, yes, you can. And you will,” he repeated, moving down her body, going to work, bringing her right to the very edge of madness. It didn’t take nearly as long as he thought it might before her cries filled the room again.

  At last, he reached inside the bedside drawer, readied himself and then glided back up her body. He slid in deep, those tight muscles of hers constricting and pulsing around him. “That’s it. More,” he said, encouraging her when her hips started to rise and meet his thrust for thrust, coming together and departing. He drew out every piece of pleasure he could from her body.

  Guiding her legs around his hips, he pushed deeper into her, her body starting to tense. She was right there, he knew, and wanted to be there with her. Wanted to feel her fall with him. “Come on, give it to me,” he said. “Let yourself go.”

  Her hips were rocking up faster and faster, completely out of rhythm with his, not that he cared in the least. Because the moment she started to call out his name, he kissed her hard, muffling his own cry and empting himself into her.

  Shattered. He felt completely shattered. Reaching down, he pulled the covers over their now damp bodies. “I need a nap, too.”

  ***

  “Let me know when you get home,” Mac told Beth as he kissed her goodbye after Zoe woke up from her nap.

  “It’s only a few minutes,” she reminded him.

  “Let me know when you get there,” he repeated. “I want to make sure you’re home safe.”

  “OK.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to leave so early,” he said wistfully.

  “It’s been a long weekend, I’m sure you need a break. I don’t know if you’ve ever spent this much time with a three-year-old before.” She winked. “Besides, it was hard enough to get her in the car a few minutes ago. This place is like Disneyland to her between Brooke’s house with the big beach, and your yard with the toys.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he tried not to squirm. She had already scolded him earlier for buying toys to have at his house for Zoe, especially since she brought some of Zoe’s from home. “If we stay any longer she will never want to leave. I don’t want her to get too used to this.”

  He sighed. He wanted to ask her why not. Why couldn’t Zoe get used to it? Why couldn’t she? He was more than fine with it and didn’t want them to leave now. But he knew it was way too early to be making any comments like that.

  In the end, he said simply, “She can come visit me any time she wants. Oh, and you, too.”

  Considerate

  “You look like something the cat dragged in,” Mitchell said when Beth walked back to her station on Monday morning. Still thirty minutes before her shift, but she needed to leave the house.

  She had never seen Zoe behave so badly before. As guilty as Beth felt, for her own peace of mind and conscience, she needed to leave before she snapped. The last thing she wanted to do was sound like her own mother when addressing Zoe. That was another reason she’d had to leave her mother’s trailer. Zoe didn’t need to be around that type of behavior. Beth couldn’t stand to see her sweet child flinch at the raised voices while living there.

  “Thanks, as if I couldn’t see that myself,” she replied dryly. “Zoe was fussy all night and this morning.” She was beginning to wonder where her sweet child had gone, even thought she might have been dreaming the whole episode. But alas, Zoe’s foot stomping and wailing continued as Beth walked out the door with a quick apology to Mrs. Wilks.

  “Not my baby girl,” Mitchell said, teasing, with a wave of his hand.

  “Yes, your baby girl. I swear she was possessed this morning. I’ve never seen her act like this before.”

  “Well, come sit and let me fix you up. I think I’ll put a French twist in your hair today, after I get rid of those bags under your eyes.” He grabbed the foundations and blushers from his own station and got to work.

  After a few minutes, she did look bright and fresh and wished she knew Mitchell’s secret. A little bit of foundation, a touch of pink to her cheeks, a dab of shimmer on her eyelids, and she was done.

  “So what was Zoe in an uproar about?” he asked casually, adding the pins in the back of her hair.

  Beth started to squirm in the chair, darting her eyes around the room, making sure they were still alone. “Nothing much. She didn’t want to sleep in her bed, she didn’t want to be in her bathtub, and she wanted to play with my tablet. The list goes on and on.”

  “I thought the tablet was off limits?” he asked.

  Beth didn’t like Zoe touching anything electronic. She didn’t want Zoe to be one of those kids that would only sit in front of a device all day long and not play or have any physical activity. “It is,” she mumbled.

  “So what’s with the other issu
es? What caused all of that?”

  Beth couldn’t sit still, kept shifting and shrugging her shoulders causing Mitchell to frown in annoyance. “Sit still. I’m almost done.” All of a sudden he stopped, realization comically dawning on his face. He stood in front of her, then crouched down, searched her face, and narrowed his eyes as the color started to rise through her foundation. “Someone got laid this weekend,” he sang out loud.

  “Are you done now?” she asked, trying to avoid the subject.

  She attempted to stand up, only to have him place a hand on her shoulder to push her back into her seat, grinning devilishly. “Oh no, I want details. The light is emerging.”

  “No, no details. I’m not you. I’m not sharing.” She hated when he talked about his personal experiences. It made her feel naive. And uncomfortable. Some things were best kept private.

  “It’s the rules,” he said, reminding her. “Just because you’re new here and haven’t dated anyone doesn’t matter. Rules are rules. You have to give at least one juicy detail.”

  She knew that. All the girls did. It was actually a fun part of working here, and amazing, all the things happening in the dating world, all the things she missed. But she was glad of it, too. No way she had the patience for all the games.

  Racking her brain, she tried to think. What could she tell him? Finally she said, “He’s very considerate.” And he was. Buying toys for Zoe, entertaining her, spending time playing with her. All so Beth could have a long bath and a few moments of down time. Everything she would have loved in a father for herself growing up.

  “Ah, ladies first. Good for him. Not that I expected any different.” He snickered and clapped his hands in front of his chest as he pranced around a bit.

  Crap, she should have thought her comment through a bit more.

  ***

  “Well, well, well, it’s Mr. Consideration.”

  Beth whipped her head around toward the reflective mirror to see Mac standing at the front counter looking drop dead gorgeous in a dark suit. She was three-fourths of the way toward the back of the long room finishing up a manicure at the moment. Her client, hearing the comment from Mitchell, looked to see and sighed dreamily.

  As Rachel made her way back, only halfway to where Beth was seated, Mitchell loudly stopped her. “Send him back for Beth, Rachel. The runway is clear. We need a show, right, ladies?”

  Beth flushed, mortified. The wide aisle between the hair stations on both sides, to the tables for manicures and pedicures further back, all the way to the drying tables at the far end, was always jokingly referred to as the “runway” where clients passed through and everyone could watch.

  Regrettably there were three people in the hair stations. She was at one of the manicure stations and another client was currently drying her pedicure all the way in the back. The place had been hopping all day and there wasn’t one bit of privacy along the length of the “runway.”

  “Mitchell,” she said in warning. But it was too late. Rachel was making her way back to Mac, whom she could see was walking up with his hands still in his pockets, after Rachel waved him into the room. He looked every bit a model that should be making his way along a catwalk.

  She finished up the last coat of clear polish as Mac strutted closer. “All set. You can go sit under the dryer now,” she told her client.

  “Oh, I’ll stay here and let them air dry for a moment if you don’t mind,” the twenty-something client said, her eyes never leaving Mac’s approach.

  Beth stood up and pulled Mac a few steps back between the manicure station and the dryer. Unfortunately, it was still close enough for everyone to see them. “Hi. What can I do for you?” She bit her tongue as soon as the words left her mouth. Of course he stood there with his lips twitching.

  “I wanted to stop in and say hi,” he replied simply.

  “Hi,” she repeated lamely.

  He looked around. “I thought that you only cut hair,” he said slightly confused. Then he froze when his eyes landed on the black-and-white picture of his haircut that flashed on the monitor in front of him.

  Noticing his reaction, she let out a little chuckle. “No. All of the stylists do hair, pedicures, manicures and waxes. There are a few licensed masseuses who do massages and other body treatments on the other side of the building. A little bit of everything,” she explained.

  “Waxes, huh?” He smiled, then frowned just as quickly. “Even Mitchell?”

  “Yes.” Before he could comment, she reached up and adjusted his tie. “You look very nice.” And he did, wearing a dark gray suit, clearly tailored to his large frame, with a buttery yellow shirt and a yellow and gray tie. Very urban and chic, for a male.

  She hastily dropped her hands once she realized what she was doing. He grabbed them back and held them between his own.

  Embarrassed, Beth heard all the wistful sighs from the women watching the two of them, the picture they made standing in front of each other with Mac holding her hands. She could only imagine everyone’s heart fluttering like her own.

  Then she heard all the whispered “wows” when Mac leaned his forehead down to hers, smiled and said, “Late meeting. I needed to see you before I went home.”

  Feeling the heat surging through her face, she pulled him toward the break room despite his laughing protests. He didn’t seem to have a problem putting on a show for the ladies in the salon, but she did.

  As soon as they were in the break room he asked again, “Mitchell and waxes? Please tell me he didn’t do yours.”

  “Mac, Mitchell is gay,” she said, exasperated.

  “Obviously, but that doesn’t mean I want another man down there. Unless he has a medical license.” He smirked and raised an eyebrow.

  She gasped and knew her blush intensified, but didn’t have a chance to comment as they both heard a noise on the other side of the wall.

  “Sorry, it’s busy here today,” she explained, lowering her voice.

  “I see that. That’s good.”

  “Yes. We will be open a bit later in a few weeks for the racing season. It gets pretty busy with walk-ins on their way to the race track and such.”

  He looked bothered. “So you will be working more?”

  “For about seven weeks, then back to normal. It slows down in the dead of winter, so we will work a bit less then. But the money is nice right now.”

  She could tell he wasn’t happy with her statement. But what could she do? She had to work, and the money was good. She wished she had more time to spend with him and Zoe, but she didn’t.

  He shook his head and asked, “How’s Zoe?”

  Smiling, she adored that about him, he always asked about Zoe. “A bit fussy last night and this morning, but otherwise good.”

  “Everything OK?” he asked, concerned.

  “Yes, a phase I’m sure. I think she was overtired from the weekend.”

  There was no way she was telling him how Zoe cried last night about not wanting to sleep in her bed, but rather wanted to sleep in the big bed at Dr. Mac’s. Or how she wanted the pink bubbles instead of the blue one’s that Beth poured in the water. The foot stomping was a result of Beth telling her no when she wanted to play on the tablet this morning.

  The worst of it was Zoe calling out in her sleep and moaning all night. Every time Beth ran in to check on her, Zoe was out cold, mumbling about sand castles and buckets of water.

  “Well, I will let you finish up.” He looked at his watch. “Call me when you get Zoe settled in tonight.”

  “I will,” she told him, then leaned up and gave him a quick kiss since no one was around to make a comment.

  “He would look good in a paper bag,” Mitchell crooned to the agreement of every woman in the salon once he knew Mac was out the door.

  Beth was checking on her manicure client, who had moved to the dryer at the back of the room, most likely hoping to hear some of the conversation in the break room, to no avail. Trying her hardest to ignore all the comments around her pro
ved fruitless since Mitchell was bound and determined to embarrass her.

  “Ms. Beth,” Mitchell sang out. “We have a bet going that only you can answer. Does Major Hottie sleep in boxers or briefs?”

  If she didn’t answer him he would keep it up, asking more and more questions. She turned, looked him squarely in the eye. “Neither.”

  She walked back to the break room, but still saw all the women fanning themselves out of the corner of her eye. Too late she realized they most likely took her answer not the way she intended. Oh well, let them be jealous, she thought with a smile.

  Why

  “Follow me this way.” Beth turned to follow the nurse down the hall with Zoe in her arms, her little head resting on Beth’s shoulders, eyes drooping.

  Mac was walking out of an exam when he did a double take as they opened the door to the room next to him. “Beth, what’s wrong?” he asked, immediately walking toward Zoe and following them into the room with a nod to the nurse to leave.

  “Mrs. Wilks called me an hour ago. Zoe was lying around almost moping, which is unusual for her. She wouldn’t drink or eat and starting crying, saying her throat hurt. I’ve never seen her quite like this,” she ended, worried.

  Mac looked at Zoe. “Come here, honey. Want to come to me?” he asked sweetly. Zoe’s eyes darted between her mother and Mac briefly, and then she finally conceded, reaching her arms out to him.

  “Dr. Mac,” she whispered, then winced as tears filled her eyes.

  “She’s burning up.” He grabbed the ear thermometer to take her temperature. “One hundred and three point one,” he said, then felt around her glands as best he could with Zoe’s head still on his shoulder. “Her glands are pretty swollen, too,” he said, talking more to himself than Beth.

  Turning his eyes on Beth, he asked accusingly, “Why didn’t you call me?”

  Taken back, she replied, “I did. I’m here, aren’t I? They said you didn’t have any openings. Then the receptionist asked if I wanted to see the nurse practitioner, and I said yes.”