by Tina Donahue
Why she was doing that to herself puzzled Mac. It would be a simple matter for her to accept the money he’d offered and work it off here. Or do an anonymous modeling gig with him as the photographer on a very closed set.
Not wanting to press the matter and upset her, he changed the subject. “Hungry?”
Jodi looked toward the kitchen. “We still have bagels and stuff from this morning.”
“That’s no dinner.”
“You want to go out? You don’t have work to do?”
Tons of it that could wait. “Everyone else knocked off. Why not me? I’m the boss.”
Jodi arched one slender eyebrow. “You seem pretty proud of that.”
“Fucking A. It gives me all sorts of perks.”
She giggled at him sucking her throat. “You want to get a dog?”
Mac took one last whiff of her scent and eased back. “Probably not. Don’t have any time to take care of the poor thing.”
Laughing, Jodi punched his arm.
“Oh hell no, you don’t do that to your lord and master.” Mac ran his fingers up and down her torso, tickling her.
Jodi squirmed, wailed and finally gagged. Didn’t faze him at all. He wrapped his legs around hers so she couldn’t get up and went at it until she bent at the waist, panting.
Tenderly, Mac stroked her hair. “You want fancy or casual?”
She heaved in more air. “For what?”
“Dinner.”
“I’m not dressed for anything except McDonald’s.”
“In this part of the world, you’re dressed up if you’re wearing underwear.”
Jodi laughed loudly. Happily, he thought.
“You decide,” she said. “I’ll follow.”
Precisely what Mac wanted to hear.
He hustled her out of the studio and drove to one of his favorite delis. The moment he parked, Jodi unbuckled her seat belt. No doubt she meant to climb out of the car before he had a chance to get her door. Mac rested his hand on hers.
“Stay put, I’m getting us takeout.”
“We’re going back to the office?”
“Nope.”
“Your place?”
Now there was a thought. Trouble was once he got her there, they might stay for days, AWOL from work and life. Mac shook his head.
Jodi frowned. “Mine?”
“Uh-uh.” He brought up the deli’s menu on his iPhone and handed it to her. “Pick what you want.”
She chose a hoagie with black forest ham, prosciutto, thick-sliced bacon, three kinds of cheese, mayo and spicy mustard, along with macaroni salad, coleslaw and a beer.
“Put on whatever station you want,” Mac said. “Even Justin Bieber’s shit if that’s what you like. I’ll be right back.”
He left the car. She powered down her window and shouted, “Bieber’s not my type.”
Yeah, baby, I know. I am. Gloriously happy, Mac gave her a thumbs-up. Ten minutes later, he returned with two large sacks that he placed on the floor in the back.
Jodi turned down the country music she’d been listening to. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He pumped up the volume again. Taylor Swift wailed about something. Jodi tapped her foot in time to the tune. Mac smiled.
The night was soft and fragrant, surprisingly clear of pollution and fog. A spray of stars decorated the velvety sky. The horizon glowed gold, sapphire and red as it surrendered the last of its light. For the first few miles, traffic was a bitch then it thinned out as Mac left the guts of the city. He took a number of turns, all the roads snaking up hillsides.
Jodi leaned forward, fingers gripping the dash as she stared out the windshield and then her window. Dark surrounded them while a blanket of lights stretched out below, some twinkling gold, others bluish white.
Mac turned off the air-conditioning but left on the blowers, welcoming the air’s soft caress. He continued his slow ascent, the headlights sweeping the heavy vegetation on each side of the road. At last he saw what he wanted and pulled off the road to a secluded area surrounded by brush, evergreen trees and eucalyptus that lent their fragrant scents to the quiet evening. Only the hush of the wind and the sound of crickets played up here.
“This table okay?” he asked.
She beamed. “Wow. I never knew this existed.”
He stared in surprise even as his heart twisted with unexpected sorrow at her words. He’d come here when he’d first learned to drive, had come back frequently during his teens and twenties. This place had become so ordinary for him, Mac hadn’t thought of it in years. Seeing it through Jodi’s eyes, he realized how lucky he’d been to have experienced so much. He wanted that now for her.
“Power your seat forward as much as it can go,” he said, doing the same with his. “This station okay with you?”
She finished with her seat. “You want something other than country?”
Mac wanted to please her for reasons he wasn’t going to explore. “I’m good. Follow me.”
They got in the backseat just as Carrie Underwood belted out what she’d done to her cheating man. Mac opened their beers and handed Jodi hers. They spread out their feast on the seat between them.
Smiling, Mac tapped the lip of his bottle against hers. “Enjoy.”
“I am,” she murmured. “This is amazing. Thanks.”
Her gratitude did wonderful and wicked things to him. Mac settled his hand on her upper thigh as they ate. He’d gotten his favorite, a meatball sandwich with thick sauce, provolone and parmesan on a toasted roll. Tonight it tasted better than it ever had. He suspected the food was the same but seemed more flavorful because Jodi was here, having a good time with him. “Yours okay?”
“God yeah. Take a bite.” She slipped her fingers beneath his chin and offered her sandwich.
Her hand was so soft, her touch so loving, it was a moment before Mac could get his mouth to work. He took a small bite that he hardly tasted then licked mustard and mayo from her thumb, enjoying the flavor of her skin the best.
Jodi smiled softly and tried his sandwich.
“No, don’t,” he said, stopping her from licking a dribble of sauce from the corner of her mouth. That was his job.
Mac worked his fingers through her hair, bringing her to him so he could properly clean her lips.
She inhaled softly then tried to get closer. The empty bags crinkled. One of the Styrofoam cartons fell to the floor. Neither of them bothered to pick it up. Their kiss happened too fast.
It was hungry, frantic, out of control, both of them battling to fill each other’s mouths. Mac won for a time until Jodi showed him what she was made of. She cradled his balls and ran her thumb over the head of his cock. A flurry of awesome sensations and heat sprinted up his torso and down his thighs, making it impossible for him to concentrate on anything else. As his kiss faltered, she took over, filling his mouth with her tongue.
He suckled her greedily, his passion hard then gentle. He couldn’t decide which he liked best. Shit, he craved it all. Each time they moved closer to each other, one of the cartons or bags made a noise. Jodi finally pulled her mouth free and panted, “Are you through?”
“Hell, I haven’t even started.”
“Me either. I was talking about the food.”
“What food?”
With a pleased grin, she tossed their meal in the bags and threw them up front.
“Ready?” she breathed.
For anything. “Hell yeah.” Mac dug a condom out of his front pocket.
Jodi’s eyes sparkled in the muted light, her attention fixed on the foil packet before she turned, taking in the area.
“If you’re uncomfortable,” Mac said, “we don’t have to—“
“I want to.”
He saw that truth on her face. Indecent craving transformed her from shy little Jodi to a breathtakingly alive, adventurous woman, whom Mac wanted too much. His painful desire would turn to full-out misery if he had to wait any longer to have her.
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They raced to take off their jeans and underwear. Finishing a split second before he did, Jodi leaned across his naked thighs.
Her belly brushed his cock, making the damn thing throb in delight. Mac huffed out his words. “What are you doing?”
“Where’s the condom? I want to put it on you.”
Gladly. Mac handed it over and lifted his rod in offering. Even in the dim light, he could see his crown was practically maroon with need. In another second or two, he’d be sobbing. “Hurry.”
She nodded then moved at a glacial pace, rolling the rubber down his length only to stop repeatedly to fondle his balls.
So much heat and arousal shot through him, Mac threw his head back and growled. “Do that again and I’m going to come in your hand. If I do, you’ll have to wait a minute for me to get hard a—“
“I’m hurrying.” This time Jodi did and finished the job quickly. She stroked his jaw. “A minute? Really?”
Laughing, Mac rolled her to the side and smacked her ass hard three times. Jodi moaned indelicately and wiggled her butt, probably wanting more.
No damn way. She was going to take care of him now. Mac patted his thigh. “Hop on. Or else.”
Jodi twisted around so she could look at him. “Meaning?”
“I’m perfectly capable of playing with myself. Done it for years. I can blast off without any help from—“
“I hear you.” She scooted toward him and straddled his legs. With her mouth against his, she whispered, “But do you really want to go it alone?”
Hell no. This was too nice. She smelled of his meatball’s marinara sauce, her sandwich’s spicy mustard and enchanting female flesh.
Mac planted his hands on her waist, steadying Jodi as she edged up and guided the tip of his cock to her cunt.
He adjusted his body to help her but it wasn’t easy. The backseat was small, especially for a man his size. The abbreviated space should have been uncomfortable but wasn’t. They made do somehow, even though their movements were clumsy, arms and knees hitting each other, the door, the seat.
None of it mattered with the slow slide of his rod within her snug pussy. Mac’s breath caught. His hair stood on end at her fucking heat. So hot it stunned. Her cunt was so tight it comforted.
He groaned. Jodi panted. She began her unhurried ascent, lifting her body from his until only the head of his cock was still firmly inside her. On an unruly moan, she sank back down, her cunt swallowing him once more, taking him deep.
Mac sighed in gratitude.
Repeatedly she went up and down, down and up until the crap at work and all the loneliness he’d ever known simply fell away.
Yet it still wasn’t enough. Mac wanted so much more. He reached beneath Jodi’s tee, pulled down her bra cups and touched her nipples. She shuddered. He ran his hand over her belly and traced her navel.
She giggled.
Just as she pushed up again, he slipped his hand lower and brushed her clit.
Her gasp of delight sounded loud in the closed-in area, drowning out the sales pitch on the radio.
Mac stroked her again. Jodi growled her delight and pumped harder, faster.
All the while, she clung to him. Mac did the same with her as they rode each other, rocking the car and their respective worlds.
Chapter Eight
Quinn’s package arrived the following afternoon, delivered by a UPS guy who gawked at Viviana, the Hispanic beauty. Stretched out on the sofa in nothing except her body makeup, Viv spoke into her iPhone, oblivious to everything except her conversation.
Not watching where he was going, the delivery guy backed out of the studio and banged his elbow on the jamb. Pain flashed across his young face before the door swung shut on him. Jodi turned to the box, which was huge. It could easily hold a full-grown dog. The German shepherd variety, not the kind Mac liked to eat.
She couldn’t imagine what might be inside. Maybe most of it was packing material so the mask, blindfold and leather fetish wear wouldn’t get smashed beneath brutal chains, barbarous cuffs and intimidating whips.
“The main theme’s BDSM,” Mac had said…
The main theme of a gig for which she could earn enough to pay for her car repairs and retire some of her student loan debt. If she represented the line on a long-term basis, she probably could buy a house. Unsteady, Jodi leaned against her desk.
Mac shouted from the other end of the studio. “Viv, let’s get moving.”
With the grace of a gazelle—and eyes as darkly luminous as that lovely creature’s—Viv left the sofa and padded across the space. Her naked ass bounced merrily with each step.
Jodi shuffled to her chair and plopped into it, her weight making its springs groan. From here, Quinn’s box hid her view of Mac and the others. It quickly occurred to her that the moment Mac saw the box, he’d open it and she’d have to make a decision. The fact that she hadn’t as yet stunned her. This should have been a no-brainer.
She was too big, too plain, too conservative to model BDSM-wear or anything else revealing. Screwing like a maniac here and in the backseat of Mac’s car was as far as she could go.
Wait, that wasn’t entirely true. After they’d made love last night, they’d finished their beers, torn off the rest of their clothes and lain on the hood of his Mercedes, alternately kissing and staring at the light show above and beneath them.
For some reason Jodi hadn’t been afraid that a cop or someone else would drive by. Hell, even the sound of an unknown animal rustling the vegetation hadn’t freaked her out. With Mac’s big body pressed against hers, she’d never felt safer.
At her apartment door, they’d made out like two hormone-drenched teens, their kisses wonderfully deep, wet and sloppy. At the time, anything had seemed possible.
Leaning to the side, Jodi peeked around the box. Viv and the others held their unnatural yet sexy poses as Mac clicked away. Cait huddled with Hilary, both of them reading something on Cait’s smartphone. Furtively Jodi pulled up the studio files and opened the one that had her shots in it. Not those Mac had Photoshopped but the originals.
She bit her lip at the sight of the leather corset and collar but didn’t whimper in embarrassment as she might have before getting involved with Mac. Jodi recalled what he’d said about all of this being natural, a part of life. Certainly one of the best parts if you were with a partner you trusted.
Mac hadn’t done anything except put Jodi at ease and praise her, even though she was no model. Studying her photos, Jodi saw that her expression was as stiff as her body, kind of how she’d pose for a mug shot after her arrest for murder. Comparing her pictures to the other models’ shots was troubling on numerous levels. Not only did Jodi think they were hotter than she’d ever be, but their acting skills were far more impressive. Even narcissistic Krista had managed to look ecstatic, heat burning in her gaze, her plump lips parted in bliss over whatever a man wanted to do to her. Possess. Pleasure. Punish.
A strap cracked.
Jodi flinched at the sound and looked around the box again. Rocco was doing his Marquis de Sade act while Mac had sprawled on the floor, capturing the scene from that angle.
Jodi stared at the meaty ridge between Mac’s legs. From here it was hard to tell if he had an erection or not. Even flaccid, the man was incredibly blessed. A dull ache settled in Jodi’s cunt. Heat washed through her at the memory of last night and earlier. The leather corset constricting her flesh, Mac’s mouth on her slit, his tongue lapping her nub, his cock sliding in and out of her cunt, balls swinging, his body’s intimate invasion of hers so thrilling and enticing she couldn’t think of anything else.
The more Jodi had of him, the more she wanted, her need insatiable. One by one, her barriers were crumbling, no different from a sandcastle licked by the persistent surf. Those gentle waves wore away what man had built, reducing everything to the way nature had always intended.
Because all this was simply a part of life. Natural. Expected. Nothing to worry about.
&n
bsp; Her body pulsed with arousal that Jodi’s mind tried to argue against. She chewed her lip.
The sound of footfalls suddenly registered. When they stopped, Jodi tensed and looked up. The top of the box came to the middle of Mac’s torso. With his arm resting on the package, he regarded her.
“I see our stuff came in.”
That it had. Big as life, the same as him. She nodded. “Is it time for lunch already?”
“Only if you want to eat.”
Food was the farthest thing from her mind. This morning, Mac had provided another spread of bagels, cream cheese and fruit. He must have offered it to the crew today, because the models were already chowing down, not demanding that Jodi fetch their meals like a faithful pet.
“You all right?” Mac asked.
Jodi hadn’t been anywhere near normal since she started working here and had begun wanting him more than anything in her life. If that wasn’t troubling enough, she kept changing. Mac might have called it loosening up, evolving into the woman she should have always been—driven by passion, consumed with need, not caring about convention or the crap that society had drilled into her since birth. Stuff she didn’t want to care about but still kind of did. Shit, she was a mess.
“Uh-huh,” she lied.
He regarded her then tapped his fingers against the box. “You going to open this or do you want me to?”
“Can we do it together?”
His bristly cheeks creased with his broad smile, making him hotter than sin. With his long hair, he looked wild and unrepentant, just the way Jodi liked. Last night, she’d begged him not to shave this morning and god bless him, he hadn’t.
“When?” he asked.
“After we close for the day?”
“Done.” Whistling, he padded to his office.
Jodi envied him. She could hardly manage a swallow much less tooting a tune between her lips. Scouring Quinn’s website, Jodi studied the items for sale until she recalled that the stuff he’d sent was for a new line. Sighing, she forced herself to work, updating the books, schedules and text on the site. She took a call from the garage. Her car would be in intensive care for at least four days.
