Correction... he said it was just slow sex, but whatever. It freaked me out and delighted me all at the same time. I'm still not sure how I feel about it, because when it was all said and done, and while my heart was still tripping around, I ended up telling Cal about me. He knows I was talking about myself, and while I didn't give any details, I shared a good chunk of what makes me... well, me.
And then after, I straddled him... kissed him... stroked him back to life, which is just not a difficult chore with this man, and then I went to town on him. I gave him the ride of his life, and if the way he shouted out while he came deep inside of me is any indication of my prowess, I rocked his world hard.
He rocked my world just as hard.
And this is why I needed to come and write in you right at this moment, because my brain just won't quit spinning. It's trying to rationalize everything when I believe it's my heart that's calling the shots right now. That's a battle I have no wish to analyze, so I figured it best to write my initial thoughts in your secret pages and just let it be purged.
After I climbed off Cal... after I let him pull me back into his arms and sort of force me into a snuggling pose (which, admittedly, was kind of nice), he said something to me just before dozing off.
He said, "You can tell me anything, Macy. I'm your friend. You will always be safe in telling me, but more importantly... you will never be judged by this man."
He's ripped me open.
I'm flayed.
My eyes are clear, and I'm scared to death.
I can't be hurt because I'm not sure that can ever happen to a person without much of a heart left intact. That's not the worry. I'm smart enough to know that I can only benefit from the things that Cal gives me.
I just hope I don't destroy him when he sees just how fucked up I am.
Lost,
Macy
Chapter 21
"How good of a cook are you?" I whisper as I nudge my face into Macy's neck and stroke her hip. Her skin is warm and even though we're buried under a heavy comforter, I was pleased to wake up and find her pressed in tight against me still. I slept hard through the night and half expected to wake up with Macy at least an arm's length away from me, not snuggled in as if having a man sleep with her all night was the most natural thing in the world to her.
She gives a little groan, tries to elbow me in the ribs, and then wiggles in tighter to me. Having her bare bottom pressed against my dick would ordinarily consume me with crazy lust, but instead, I'm enjoying the intimacy of embracing her.
Just simply holding her.
"Macy," I chant against her neck. "Food. I'm hungry."
"I suck at cooking," she grumbles, but then turns in my arms so she's facing me. She lazily pushes a leg in between mine and snuggles her face into my chest.
And fuck... where is the aloof, intimacy-averse woman that I went to bed with last night? Have I shattered her hard shell already?
"Do you have eggs in your refrigerator?" I ask, contemplating whether I want to cook or have a spectacular morning fuck.
"Mmmm. Hmmm," she moans against my skin, and I'm not sure if that's an invitation for breakfast or sex.
"Want me to cook them?"
"Mmmm. Hmmm."
Smiling, I pull back from her to see her blinking sleepy eyes up at me. Her hair is a mess... all tangled and wavy, but she looks placid and well sated. I find I like this look on her very much. Leaning down, I kiss her briefly and then roll away.
"Okay, eggs in bed coming right up," I say as I walk to my pile of clothes on the floor and pull on my boxer briefs and dress pants.
"Don't bother with the shirt," she says as she leans up on one elbow and watches me. "I have things I want to do to you after we eat."
"Naked things?" I ask with a grin.
"Oh, yeah. Naked, naked things," she says pertly as she grins right back and tumbles her luscious body out of the bed. "I'm going to take a quick shower."
I turn away before I'm tempted to drop trou and pounce on her, but the slight grumble to my stomach has me deciding to opt for eggs first. I reason that I can use the strength because it's a Saturday and until such time as Macy decides to kick me out of this apartment, I'm staying and seeing just how much deeper under her skin I can entrench myself.
In the kitchen, I find a well-stocked fridge, which surprises me since Macy says she sucks at cooking. I assume either she has someone that does it for her, or she lied so I'd cook her breakfast in bed.
I'm guessing the latter.
It doesn't take me long to get oriented, her pots and pans hanging over the center island from a cast-iron rack. The eggs and butter are easy enough to find, and I even pull out some pre-cooked bacon I can heat up in the microwave. In just under ten minutes, I have two plates loaded up along with two cups of coffee poured, and I'm just considering how to get it all back into the bedroom when the doorbell rings. I can still hear the shower running from Macy's master bath, and I'm undecided about whether to answer or not.
Part of me feels I'd be stepping over a boundary she might not like, but the other part of me is curious as to who would be ringing Macy's door this early in the morning on a Saturday. It could be a deliveryman. Or maybe just another man?
No, that's stupid. I'm confident I'm the one and only that's been here.
But curiosity wins out so I pad toward the front door and stick my eye up to the peephole.
And fuck!
It's Mac.
I take a careful step back and hold my breath, hoping she didn't hear me walking through the apartment. The bell rings again, followed by a sharp rap on the door. "I know you're in there, Macy," Mac calls out. "Sal down on the security desk told me you're in."
I take another soft step back from the door because I know without a doubt that Macy hasn't told Mac about us, and while I wish it wasn't so, I need to follow Macy's lead and comfort level on letting her in on our secret.
"I'm not going away," she calls out, almost in a singsong, serial killer voice.
Turning away from the door so I can hightail it down to the hall to Macy, I'm immediately stopped in my tracks when I hear a key rattling in the lock. "Fine. I'll just let myself in," Mac yells in warning.
I consider running.
Diving behind the couch.
Something, but then it's too late.
The front door is opening and Mac is stepping through. Her head is bent as she removes the key, and then when it rises, she immediately locks eyes on me.
And her jaw drops.
And then drops further in astonishment as her eyes rake over me... taking in my bare feet, pants zipped but unbuttoned, hanging low on my hips. Naked, naked chest and I'm sure my hair sticking up all over the place.
"Hi," I say in a raspy voice. I give a cough... clear the panic away, and then say in a more steady tone, "What are you doing here?"
And I didn't think it was possible, but her jaw drops further. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"
"House sitting?" I ask in return, hoping beyond hope that she'll buy that out-and-out lie and just leave.
No such luck there, because I hear Macy's voice as she walks down the hallway. "Is breakfast ready? I'm starved, although I could be persuaded to suck your cock as an appetizer first."
I wince.
Really hard and let out a sigh.
Just as I turn her way, Macy steps into the living room--thankfully wearing a robe--and looks at me first. But then her gaze immediately snaps to Mac, and the flirtatious smile slides right off her face.
No one says a word.
It's so quiet that I can hear my heart pounding in my chest. Macy looks at Mac, Mac looks back at Macy, and I look at the custom drapery that I bet cost a fortune, thinking maybe I should just get my clothes on and leave.
But then I think... screw that. Why in the world should this be uncomfortable? Mac knows Macy likes to fuck. She has to know I like it as well. We're both her friends, and Mac respects us both. It's not like we're doing anything illegal, immature, crazy, or thoughtless.
"Want some breakfast?" I say as I turn to Mac. "I just made some bacon and eggs."
Mac doesn't even look at me. She continues to stare at Macy, who looks back at Mac guardedly.
Finally... finally, Mac seems to snap out of it and slides her gaze my way. "Yeah... sure. Breakfast sounds great."
Mac turns and heads toward the kitchen and when she's out of sight, I walk up to Macy. "Why don't you go get dressed?"
"Holy shit," she breathes out in a huge release of air.
Chuckling, I lean down and give her a quick kiss. "It's fine. Go get dressed. Come talk to your best friend. It's all good."