After several deep breaths, standing outside Mac's bedroom, I force an empty smile onto my face before I open the door and hesitantly stick my head in. "Yes?" I ask tentatively.
"Why don't you come over here, Amelia?" Mac says with a warmth that is more than I could have hoped for. I was ready to face disappointment and disgust, but all there is is the warmth that I need right now. Still hesitant, and with shame weighing down on me, I enter, painfully aware of his eyes on me. Maybe he thinks I just need a serious talk, not be made to feel ashamed of myself.
"Yes, Mac?" I say, standing stiffly at a respectable distance from his bed.
"Why don't you sit down?" Mac says.
Silently I sit down, ready for that serious talk that will tell me that I really need to grow up. Looking down, I feel nothing like the grown woman that I thought I was. More like a silly little girl who just had her heart broken.
"About that surprise?" Mac says, and my cheeks and ears instantly start to burn with a shame that grows stronger by the second, unshed tears welling up and ready to spill over.
"I'm sorry ," I murmur, my voice barely audible.
"I was hoping to get it a lot sooner than my birthday," Mac says.
For a moment, I think I've heard wrong, then my head shoots up to study his expression. What I see is enough to breathe new life in my broken heart. Where a moment before I felt nothing but heartache, I'm now back to a woman with a racing heart that heats up my chest. Warmth explodes in my belly, reigniting the fire between my legs.
The intensity of Mac's stare takes my breath away, his eyes a mixture of warmth and lust. Silently we look into each other's eyes for what seems like forever, everything we feel expressed through them.
Mac
Moving my arm is a pain, my shoulder killing me, but I don't care. I guess I could ask her to sit on the other side of the bed, where my good arm is, but that would ruin the moment, and I've done that enough already.
"Mac…"
"Hush," I say, wishing I had full mobility. Grateful too that I don't. None of this would have happened if I hadn't broken the bones that put me in this bed. Relief washes over me the moment my hand comes to rest on Amelia's thigh, her flesh soft and warm.
After I realized how she had totally misinterpreted my response to her sensuous gesture, it placed me with my back against the wall. Leaving me with a simple choice: get real and deal with the situation or walk away. Baby steps be damned.
Sliding my hand up her thigh, the screaming pain in my shoulder is nothing but a background feeling to the lust that is already there, increasing more the higher up my hand slides. Halfway up her inner thigh, I stop, hesitant to continue. As much as I'd love to, I still have trouble believing that doing this with my own stepsister is acceptable.
"Higher," Amelia whispers, parting her legs for me to show she means it, her cheeks flushed and her eyes full of life. The same eyes that shut tight when the tip of my fingers make contact with her panties. Moaning, she bites her lip, the furrow between her eyebrows and the way she pushes her hips forward telling me all I need to now. Another inch and I can feel the blazing heat of her pussy.
"So, you think this old guy can have his gift sooner?"
Amelia
I'm walking on clouds over here, my pussy drooling and spasming at top capacity. My heart is high on that rosy feeling that has eluded it for so long. I could sit like this forever, Mac's hand near my leaking pink snatch. But I want more. So much more.
Opening my eyes, part of me is scared this was all just a dream, but one look at Mac assures me that I'm not dreaming. His hand is still between my legs and there is no misreading the look in his eyes or the way his square jaw is set. The look of a man ready to devour the woman he has set his sights on.
"I'll have to think about that, Mac," I say slowly, unable to resist the temptation to tease him.
"What?" Mac says, wide-eyed.
"Well, the kind of surprise I had in mind, old man," I say; oh, be still, my beating heart. "You may not be up for it." Savoring the frustration in Mac's face, I teasingly add, "Physically, that is."
"This old man can handle anything you throw at him," Mac says like a fighter challenging his rival.
"Oh really?" I say, all husky and hot. Leaning forward, I reduce the space between our lips to only inches, my hand happy to find its way back to that rock hard stomach of his.
"Try me," Mac says through clenched teeth, gravel in each word.
"Is that a challenge, Mac?" I say, raising one eyebrow questioningly, my nipples tightening as my hand slides down further, not stopped by a silly pillow.
Mac doesn't hesitate to inform me it is.
"Challenge accepted," I whisper, ready to stroke out. Lightheaded, my hand stops the moment it makes contact with the stirring hardness of his cock, my heart skipping a beat.
After a short pause, my fingers start exploring the hard and fat cock that my pussy is aching for, my mind crashing and jaw dropping as the size of that thing registers. Swallowing hard, thrilled at the fatness in my hand, I can't help but give it a light squeeze, my confidence building when Mac grunts in response.
Not thinking, I press my lips against his, lips that part instantly. His tongue shoots out and so does mine. The kiss is long and deep; raw. And as much as I want it to last forever, I still pull back.