Play (Stage Dive 2)

Also sometime soon, I should try to not insult someone every time I entered this building. A great idea.

“I won’t sleep with her,” said Mal.

“And you won’t have sex with her either.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Just to clarify.”

“What’d she do to you, Anne?”

“She insulted me. But it’s fine.” I just needed to know she’d never get near him. Now my soul was at peace. “Carry on with your partying.”

Mal’s face hardened, his mouth drawing tight. “What the f**k did she say?”

“Doesn’t matter. I might get another drink. I have no idea where I left mine and suddenly alcohol sounds like a really good idea. I feel I need the social lubrication.” I started toward the kitchen, all well once again with my world. Justice would prevail. Mal’s pants were closed to the woman.

A hand hooked my elbow, drawing me back into the bathroom. It was a nice bathroom. Dark gray stone surfaces, shiny chrome features. A great bathroom, really, but I didn’t need to spend quite this much time in it.

“Mal?”

He slammed the door shut. Whoa, his eyes. There was not a single hint of happy. “What did she say to you?”

“Hey, really, it’s okay.” I rested my hip against the counter, setting the right example and trying to play it cool. This level of emotion had not been expected.

“Anne.”

“I just needed to know she wasn’t going to get what she wanted, namely you. Blame it on my little black vindictive heart,” I joked.

He did not laugh.

Face still set in furious lines, he stalked toward me, backing me into the counter. The hard gray stone edge connected smack bam with the bruise on my back from earlier. It hurt.

“Ouch.” I rubbed at the sore spot, wincing.

“What?”

“I think I’ve got a bruise from the kitchen bench. Your fault.”

He harrumphed in a strangely sexy manner (it had truly never occurred to me that noise could be a turn-on). “I already said sorry about that.”

He picked me up by the waist and set me on top of the counter. His able hands pushed my knees apart as far as my skirt would allow and he stepped between.

“Ah, hey there.” I put my hands to his shoulders, pressing against the cool material of his suit jacket. “Ease back a bit.”

“Tell me what she said.”

“Why? You going to challenge her to a duel? Pistols at dawn?”

“You read too many books.”

“No such thing!” I cried, aghast.

“No duel. But I’ll sure as hell have her ass thrown out of here.”

“Mal, seriously. I dealt with it. It’s okay.”

He just stared at me.

“I very politely thanked her for her opinion and told her to go f**k herself.”

The tension in his face eased a little. “You told her to go f**k herself?”

“Yes, I did. I channeled my inner Scarlet O’Hara and took none of her crap.”

“Good. Liking that boundary. And you’re okay now?” He set his hands on the counter either side of my hips, meaning we were damn close. Much closer with some clothes missing and we’d almost be together in the biblical sense.

“I’m all good. Though my bottom lip sort of hurts. No more biting.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I figured that when you pulled half my hair out to get me off of you. You know you can be kind of vicious, pumpkin. I like that.”

I smiled and he smiled and everything was fine and dandy.

“You’re definitely not going to sleep with her though,” I said, just to be sure. I really didn’t like the woman. “Seriously.”

“My dick doesn’t go near anyone that’s rude to my friends. That’s not cool.”

“Your dick has good taste, then.”

His eyes went kind of hazy.

“Mal?”

“Hmm? Sorry. I like the way you say ‘dick’ and ‘taste’ in the same sentence.”

“Right.” So not going there. I squirmed ever so discreetly on the countertop. “Thank you for worrying about me. But we should go back out and join the party. People probably want to use the bathroom.”

“There’s four more.” Soft as a feather, he brushed his lips across mine. Every nerve in my body kick-started at the contact.

“I’ll make you feel better, Anne.”

“Ah, yeah. I already said I was feeling fine. And you remember that line in the sand you drew about us not getting involved in a sexual manner and stuff? You’re messing with it big-time tonight.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“It kind of is. I don’t want to be your joke, Mal.”

“My joke? What the hell are you talking about?” His hands slid around to my butt and suddenly I was pulled in against him. All of him. And by the feel, there was a lot of him in a good and hard mood.

I squeaked and wrapped my legs around his hips. Honest to god, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. When he pressed his c**k against me it made thinking impossible. My hormones were seizing control. All of this talk of babies had obviously given them ideas. Still, I made a token effort to resist. “Okay, big guy. That’s enough.”

Gently, he kissed my bottom lip. “Still hurting?”

“Totally cured.” Oh I hurt, I ached. A bit more of the pressure from his pelvis, making my mind reel, would do the job, however. I rocked against him, unable to stop myself. My eyelids slid half closed. Damn, he felt good.

“You’re not my joke, Anne. You’re my friend. One I am very f**king into for lots of reasons.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re my friend too.”

“But you know, it’s okay for us to relax and have some fun.” He demonstrated this point by kneading my ass. “You don’t have to be so wound up all the time. I’m not going to let anything bad happen.”

Malcolm Ericson might have been a lot of things, but omnipotent wasn’t one of them. Bad things happened. It was a fact of life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, grinding himself against me once more, derailing my sadness.

“Nothing.” Sex. Stress. A bit of both, really.

“I really like your dress.”

“Thanks. The suit’s nice; you look incredible.”

“I been thinking about this kissing problem we got.”

“There’s no kissing problem. Everyone believes we’re together so … job well done Team Mal and Anne.” I raised a fist high. “Yay.”