I sigh and shrug. My turn to throw my arms out to encompass the world around us. “This.” I laugh. “This night. This weekend. This date. I don’t really know.”
“Then why did you start this with me, Mac? If you knew I wasn’t what you were looking for, then why start something you didn’t want to finish?”
I sigh. “I thought you were cute. Before I ever even saw you, it was… kind of… adorable.”
“You find my innermost thoughts adorable?” She makes a face, like she has a bad taste in her mouth. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“It is,” I say, pulling her towards me, one arm around her shoulders. “I promise.” I take her beer and set it on the edge of the rectangular fire pit in front of us. “I’m getting used to you.”
“Oh, Jesus,” she says, pulling away.
“Stop,” I order. “And listen to me. I’m getting used to the idea that maybe a dream is not a lie. And all that stuff you said to Heath was… well, not exactly a dream. But a possibility. I don’t think you really liked Heath, did you?”
“I thought we were friends. And maybe some part of me thought he might fit into my delusional dream world. But did I really think I was marrying him? For real? No. It was an escape for me. I’ve been in a dry spell. I just needed to spice things up.”
“Well, I think you accomplished that.” We both laugh now, and I feel some of the tension ease out of her. “It certainly got my attention. And I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you were not the only woman from work who was texting him with delusions. Heath and Ellen—”
“No!” she exclaims. “Gross. She’s old enough to be his mother!”
“Hey, she’s quite the sexpot on screen. Heath had her in his phone as Ellie. So I was getting the messages from the two of you confused.”
“Oh, my God.” She laughs. “You thought—?” She bursts out with a guffaw.
“Yeah. I really thought you were the same person when I came on to you in the stairs. And I should apologize for that, but nah. I like the unexpected twist, Ellie. I’m very happy with how things are turning out for me. Even if you are on the other side of the ridiculous line and I’m standing over in the stodgy area of the relationship waiting room.”
“Hell, Mac. You’re definitely not stodgy when it comes to me. I’ve never had so much fun in my entire life.”
“Me too,” I admit. “This has been a crazy good two weeks for me. I’ve had more fun, more smiles, more laughs with you than I’ve had in years. Probably close to a decade.” I slip my hand up her t-shirt and fondle her breast through her bra. “It doesn’t have to end, you know. We can keep going. Give it a real try.”
I don’t wait for an answer, just stand up and pull her to her feet with me. I lead her across the terrace, down the steps, through the myriad of hallways, and nooks, and rooms, until we get to the master bedroom. It’s lit up, and it’s on the second floor, not anywhere close to where I had her poking around earlier.
The king-sized bed is on the far wall, framed by a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the city. I stand her at the foot of the bed and begin to undress her body. I ease her shirt over her head, place my hands on her breasts and give them a squeeze as I crouch down and lick her stomach. My hands wander down the curve of her waist and stop to hold her at the hips while I nip the soft, sensitive skin just above the button on her jeans.
Her fingers thread through my hair, gripping slightly as she lets out a long breath of air. “Talk,” I say. “I want to hear you talk.”
“What?” Ellie breathes.
My hands are suddenly ripping the button of her jeans open. The zipper rakes down, exposing her lower belly. I lean in and cover her skin with my mouth, nipping her again. And then I yank her jeans down, her white panties rolling down with the force, and toss them aside. “You know what I’m asking. Do it. Do it, Ellie. You like to pretend, don’t you? It gives you a thrill, doesn’t it?”
I slip one hand between her legs, careful not to touch in any of the places she’s craving right now. But instead, I reach up and place the whole of my palm against her, my thumb playing with the wetness between her legs. She’s gripping my hair tighter.
“Just… don’t stop,” she moans with her eyes closed. “I don’t know what to say except that. I don’t want you to stop.”
“I don’t want to stop either. So tell me what you want me to do.”
She opens her eyes for a moment, but my thumb presses against her soft folds and her eyes immediately close. “That,” she says. “More of that.”
“The words, Ellie. I like to hear the words. It’s fucking hot. The dirtier, the better. So say them. Say them all, Ellie. And I’ll put my fingers anywhere you want. I’ll put my mouth anywhere you want. I’ll fuck you sore. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you come. Make you mine.”
She is panting now. Her grip on my hair flexes and contracts, pulsating with the wave of pleasure that is surely building inside her.
But she stays silent. Nothing but her heavy breath as a response.
I withdraw my fingers and stand up.
“Mac,” she finally utters. “Please… just…”
“Undress me,” I say. “If you can’t ask for what you want, I’m happy to go first.”
That fingernail comes right up to her mouth and for the first time I notice that her polish is chipped. She chews on it for a moment and then she places each of her hands on my shoulders and slips my suit coat off. She carefully lays it on the cushions next to us and then fists the fabric of my dress shirt and pulls it out of my pants.
“Oh, yeah,” I say, shaking my head a little. “I like this Ellie.”
She loosens my tie, flips up my collar, and slides it over my head, dropping the silk down on top of the coat. Her lips press together and then relax as she begins unbuttoning my shirt from the bottom up. When she gets to the last button she slides it over my bare shoulders, her fingertips brushing gently against my skin. Tracing the curves of my muscles all the way down my arms until the shirt falls to the floor at our feet.
I place both my hands on her shoulders and press down. “Kneel,” I say. I have no problem asking her to do what I like. None. “And take my dick out.”
She lets out a long exhale and I can almost feel her pulse pounding in her neck as she lowers herself to the floor. She looks up at me, her eyes wide as she swallows hard.
“Fuck,” I say. “Just picturing you sucking my dick makes me harder.” Harder, because I’m so fucking hard right now, my cock might be made of stone.
She takes her attention to my belt and her fingers stumble through the motions of unbuckling it. She draws in another deep breath, like she’s steeling herself for the next part, but she does not hesitate. The button on my trousers is flipped through the narrow slit and then she is dragging my zipper down. One hand slides in, cupping my thick shaft, the other pulls on my boxer briefs until my cock is free.
I fist it, pumping it up and down as she watches, and then I guide it to her mouth. “Open,” I say.
She looks up at me, blinking twice, and then obeys.
I let a small grin escape as her hot breath puffs out against my tip and then the warmth of her mouth surrounds me, sealing against my skin. She sucks, pushing down, making me enter her throat before drawing back, her tongue flat as it drags along my cock, and then releases me, looking up again to see if I like what she can do.
“Keep going,” I say, encouraging her. “I love it.” But she doesn’t. She holds still. “Ellie?” I ask, cocking my head slightly with the question.
“You want to know what I want you to do?”
“Tell me,” I say, unable to stop a full smile. “Whatever it is, I’m up for it.”
She looks me straight in the eyes as she takes each of my hands and places them on the side of her head. Pressing them against her skull, telling me to grip her tight.
I’m happy to oblige her wishes. And I know what she wants, but I want to hear her ask.
“Hold
me here,” she says. “And…” She loses her nerve and blushes a bright pink.
I reach down with one hand, cupping her full breast as best as I can. It spills out between my fingers, heavy and erotic. I twist her nipple, making her moan. “Tell me, Ellie. You have no fucking idea how badly I want to hear what you have to say.”
“I want you to…” She shakes her head and smiles, still embarrassed.
I take my hand up to her head again, gripping her hair as I bring her mouth towards me, my hips almost reaching for her, my cock throbbing with anticipation. “This?” I ask.
She nods, but looks down.
“Say it,” I command. “All you have to do is say it. Remember how good it felt when I fucked your ass, Ellie? And you didn’t think you’d like it. But this? You know you want it. You know you’re going to love it. So just tell me. I might come on your face just hearing you say those words.”
“Fuck…” she says. “Fuck… my face. Like you would… my pussy.”
“Holy hell,” I say with the slightest hint of satisfaction that I can’t tuck away. “I am happy to make you happy.” I grip her harder, if that’s possible, and the moment she opens her mouth, I thrust inside her. Past her lips. She is not wide enough to take my whole girth, so her teeth scrape just enough across my cock to make my head fall backwards with pleasure.
I pump my cock into her wet mouth just like I’m going to do her pussy in a few minutes. I’m not going to come in her mouth. My woman will always come first. But I want to give her the full face-fuck experience. “Put your hands behind your back, Miss Hatcher,” I say in a low, rough growl. “And don’t move them unless I tell you to.”
She looks up at me, her eyes already watering with the strain of obeying, but she does as I ask as she leans forward, practically begging for more.
I give it to her. Hard. And fast. She gags and spits, her saliva dripping out of her mouth and over the curve of her chin. And she never takes her eyes off me. “You like that, Ellie? You fucking slut. Play with your pussy,” I say. “One hand only, keep the other behind your back, and do not stop until you come.”
Her fingers are between her legs, rubbing her clit in fast, frantic circles, before I’m even done talking. “Put your fingers inside yourself, Ellie. Show me how you like it.”
She presses against her pussy, adjusting her legs until they are open wide and I have the perfect view of everything she’s doing.
“Come,” I say.
She moans with her release, my hips still pumping, fucking her face, dick still in her mouth. The sound thrums, vibrates, tantalizing the tip of my head until I almost forget and shoot my come down her open throat.
I pull back just in time. Ellie is gasping for air. Her face is a mess, her makeup smeared down her cheeks, her chin just as wet as her pussy.
“I want to lick you so bad right now.” I don’t give her a chance to recover or respond, just reach down, lift her up, twirl her around, and push her forward until she has to bend over the bed and place her hands on the mattress to steady herself.
I bend down, my hand pumping my dick in long, fast strokes. And then I release the hold and flatten my hands on her ass cheeks, spreading them as I place my mouth over her pussy and suck.
“Oh, shit, Mac,” she says. Her legs tremble with the effort of holding herself up, but I don’t stop. I flick my tongue against her clit, insert two fingers in her pussy and one in her ass, and then pump her until she comes again. Writhing, and twisting, and falling forward, utterly unable to keep herself upright.
“Tell me now, Ellie. It’s not so hard when you want so bad, is it? Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Fuck me,” she says. “Put your cock in my pussy and fuck me until you can’t.”
I am the one moaning this time. I’m so fucking ready to spill, I don’t even bother with a condom. Just press the head of my dick against her opening, grab her by the hips, and give her exactly what she wants.
She comes a third time, almost immediately. And even though I’d like to fuck her like this until morning, I want to come all over her face even more.
I pull back, flip her over, her breasts heaving with her heavy breathing. Her legs open. Her eyes closed. And then I grab her by the shoulders, place her in front of me and shoot my come all over her lips.
Chapter Thirty
ELLIE
I am spent. Mac picks me up and carries me into the bathroom, setting me down on the counter. “That was fun,” I say, blushing like there’s no tomorrow, because my face is hot as hell. And sticky. He smiles at me, his dick still semi-hard and waving in the air as he moves across the bathroom to find a washcloth.
I’m still so fucking horny.
“Hold still, Miss Hatcher. Let me clean that up for you.”
He turns on the hot water and wets the washcloth, adjusting the temperature and squeezing out the excess water before bringing it up to my face and washing me gently. He does it again, using a new washcloth, but this time he strokes me tenderly with it. Under my eyes, cleaning up my smeared makeup. Down my cheeks, my chin, my neck. He uses his legs to force mine open, then places the warm cloth between them, cupping my pussy before tossing both washcloths onto the floor.
“Shower?” he asks.
“For sure,” I say back.
“Then bed?” he asks.
“Then more?” I ask back.
I catch a sly grin spreading across his face. “I will never say no to more, Miss Hatcher.”
He gets everything ready, then he takes my hand and leads me into the shower, placing me under the wide stream of water pouring out from the ceiling. He squirts some shampoo into his palm and begins to wash my hair, careful to get every strand. I reach for the soap and begin caressing him with it. His perfect chest. His perfect shoulders. His perfect hips, and of course, his cock.
That’s all it takes to have him lift me up, press me against the white marble tiles, and fuck me against the wall. I know we’re not using condoms, and he comes inside me, but I’m on the pill and we can talk about that later if he wants. I’m sure he thinks of me as far too organized and efficient to not be.
After we’re spent—again—and clean, he wraps me in a white robe and leads me to bed.
I let it fall to the floor and then crawl where he’s opened up the covers for me.
He might not think he’s perfect. Obviously that was his point by having me hunt for him in his house.
But right now, I do. I think McAllister Stonewall is about as perfect as a man can get.
That is our weekend. Sex, and food, and showers, and more sex. More talking, but not a lot of the serious stuff. Mostly just the fun stuff. What we like to do. Music. Where we’d take the perfect vacation. Things he didn’t know about me from that message stream with his brother. That makes it all real. Before this weekend I was just a girl on text message who liked to fuck him at work. But now… I feel like we really know each other. Like we’re on our way to something new. A relationship, and not one that is delusional.
We’re real.
“Hey,” Mac says, leaning into my ear. “I gotta go into the office early, Ellie. You can sleep in if you want.”
“Oh, my God, what time is it?”
“Five thirty.”
“That’s just wrong. Five thirty on Monday? Why?”
“My… father’s meeting, remember? He scheduled it early.”
I open my eyes, instantly awake. “Does he need me there?”
Mac laughs and kisses me on the cheek. “No, just me. It’s all about me. You’re coming in today though, right? Don’t let that bitch Ellen fuck up your career, Ellie. Don’t let her win.”
We talked about this at length this weekend and there is a certain draw to Stonewall Senior’s offer. Part time. Delegate, he said. I think that might be the perfect answer for me. So much about this weekend has turned out perfect. And to think, Friday afternoon I felt like I was in a tailspin. The video. Jesus, how embarrassing. But Mac made a lot of good points that talk
ed me down from the ledge about that. One, we’re hot as fuck on that video. And I’m not even naked. I was still wearing my dress. I personally don’t think that makes up for the fact that my ass was unzipped for that fuck, but I do have to agree. It was hot.
Two, hardly anyone saw it. We went through all the buildings with TV and Mac even called tech support to see which ones got the stream. And it was only the Atrium. Ming already said it was only up for two minutes. So despite the fact that everyone knows about it, not everyone saw it.
Three—and this one was just me, although I’m guessing Mac might be thinking something similar—every girl at that company is probably wishing she was me. Because McAllister Stonewall is a catch. For real. Hell, if I saw someone else getting fucked the way I was, I’d be wishing that was me.
So this is my justification for not running away this morning. For sucking it up and going into work. Maybe I can negotiate a work-from-home deal with Stonewall Senior? Weirder things have happened. Just look at my life these past two weeks.
“I’ll be in,” I tell Mac. “I don’t have anyone flying in until eight thirty. So I’ll be in at my normal time.”
“OK,” he says, giving me another kiss. “I’m late, so I gotta go. See you later.”
He pulls back and I roll over and watch him as he walks out of the bedroom. Lazily thinking about everything. This house, for one. How empty it is. Mac says he just moved in and didn’t bring anything with him but a few suits. He’s having stuff delivered this week. Some more personal things that he has at his house in… well, he never actually said. I did ask him a few times but somehow we ended up talking about something else.
Hmmm.
I’ll have to ask that again later when we have lunch.
We talked all about me, but most of it he knows. I’m not a rolling stone. I’ve been gathering moss at Stonewall Entertainment since college. So that wasn’t all that interesting. But he did mention he’s been traveling a lot.
I sit up and ponder this.
Come to think about it, he never mentioned where he did all that traveling either. I lie back and try to get some more sleep, but Mac’s lack of disclosure is troubling. Did I let him lead me all weekend? Was he doing it on purpose? Or were we just caught up in each other and we found ourselves off on tangents? That’s likely. That’s how it is when you meet someone new. Someone you like. Someone you’re really interested in. When you start thinking this might lead to something more, you want to hear everything and you get sidetracked. Going down roads you never knew you wanted to travel because it’s all so shiny and new.
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