Grind (Cal and Macy's Story 2)

Leaning down, I capture her lips to seal the bargain. Her tongue slips inside my mouth, and the kiss is erotically sweet. Tempting without inflaming me. It's the type of kiss that could go on forever and you'd never get tired of it or want to come up for air, but would rather be content to let it ride for hours.

I half expect Macy to break away, because the kiss is warmly intimate, an emotion she seems to shy away from. It's definitely why she has to be bribed just to stay an evening in my bed.

But she doesn't.

She continues to kiss me as we stand under the hot water spray, and it feels fucking fantastic.

Chapter 12

I stare at my computer screen, the lines and lines of research seeming to blur together. I've been trying to read this Court of Appeals case for the last half hour, but none of it's sinking in.

Because, as usual, I have Macy on the brain.

I ended up fucking her slowly up against the shower wall after we sealed our exchange-of-fantasies deal, then we ordered some appetizers from room service, after which we fucked again. And then, because Macy has intimacy issues, we both left and went our separate ways.

And I have to wonder... if she thinks about me throughout the day, the way I am so obviously obsessing about her.

My cell phone ringing startles me, and I pick it up from the charger on my desk. I can't help the little trip of excitement when I see Macy's name on the Caller ID.

Vindication.

She is clearly thinking about me at this moment, maybe not in the frustratingly intrigued way that I am thinking about her, but still... she's the one calling me.

"Hey," I say as I answer the phone.

"Hey stud," she purrs, and my pulse starts slamming inside my constricted veins. "What are you doing?"

"Legal research," I say, the lie tripping out of my mouth.

Because telling her I was thinking about what makes a woman like her tick would surely send her running fast.

"Well, I was thinking dirty things about you," she says, and that perks up my dick's interest.

"Like what?" I glance toward my open office door, wishing it were closed. The thought of her talking dirty to me while I jacked off has a certain appeal.

"I made reservations for us for Saturday night at Voyeur," she murmurs.

And I don't even have to ask what that is. It has to be the sex club she wants to take me to. I can figure this out not only from the name, but also from the annoying fact that Macy doesn't seem to want to go anywhere else with me in public, so I know it can't be a trendy New York eatery.

"What time should I pick you up?" I ask, my chest squeezing with nerves and excitement at the same time. I'm still not sure this is a great idea, but I promised her I'd try. And as I mentioned before, there isn't anything I wouldn't try for her if it gives her pleasure.

Because I get off on giving her pleasure.

"I'll text you the address," she says. "Meet me there at nine."

I don't bother to argue. It would be futile. So instead, I ask, "Are we going to see each other before then?"

She's silent for just a moment, but I'm rewarded with clear regret in her voice. "I can't. I have to have dinner with my parents tonight, and then tomorrow, Mac and I have plans."

Yup... that's clear disappointment I'm feeling at having to wait another two days until I can see Macy, and it's not just disappointment at having to wait to fuck her again. I'd really just like to... well, talk to her, I guess.

"Care to get together for lunch?" I throw out.

"I'm sorry," she says, and fuck... she actually sounds sorry. Maybe even a little sad. "It wouldn't be a good idea."

A knock on my door jerks my attention from Macy and I'm startled to see Matt standing there, just inside the threshold. I hold my finger up at him to indicate I need just a moment, and then I spin my chair to give him my back. "Alright... I'll see you on Saturday then."

"I can't wait," she breathes into the phone, and then she's gone.

"Am I interrupting?" I hear Matt say, and I startle again, completely forgetting he was there.

I turn my chair back around and wave him in my office.

For the life of me, I can't imagine why he's here.

Yes, Mac and I rent office space from him, and so we work not less than a hundred feet from each other. But in the two years that I've had this office, Matt hasn't once ever stepped foot in here. And why would he? We're not friends. We're not business colleagues. The only thing we have in common is a mutual love and respect for Mac, and it's not something that we need to discuss. It's just understood.

"What's up?" I ask as he walks in and shuts the door.

This surprises me, because that means whatever he wants to say to me is private. My insides clench, because while Matt and I have been able to maintain a sort of casual acquaintance recently, I can't imagine anything that would require him to have a serious conversation with me.

He walks to one of the chairs sitting opposite of my desk and sits down, casually crossing one leg over the other. He's the epitome of cool collection--a man that has everything going right in his life--and he wears that self-esteem like a coat of armor. It's actually a little intimidating, especially when I will never be able to look at him without remembering the way Marissa climbed on my cock when I was drunk.

Or the way I almost puked in my mouth when I confessed all to Matt.

Or the way my eyes bore burst blood vessels in them for two weeks after Matt beat the shit out of me.

"I saw you and Macy together at The Heritage last night," he says coolly. "Mac and I were in the bar having a drink after dinner with some friends."

My stomach flips over, gets queasy, and I break out into a clammy sweat. He must have seen us as we walked through the lobby together, my hand resting intimately on her lower back because I was fucking compelled to touch her in some way. "Did Mac see us?"

Matt blinks at me in surprise. "No. She had her back to you."

I let out a sigh of relief and scrape my fingers through my hair. Why the fuck is Macy insisting this stay a secret? I'm not good at secrets, as evidence by the way that I eagerly confessed my sin of fucking Marissa to Matt, even though he would have probably never found out.

"What's going on with you two?" Matt asks suspiciously, no doubt on edge by the fact I'm relieved to have kept this a secret from Mac.

"What the fuck do you think is going on?" I ask him in annoyance. "You saw us leaving a hotel together."

"You two are seeing each other?" he asks in surprise, and while I think he probably got the gist of it, I can still tell the concept is foreign to him.

"No," I tell him in resignation. "We are not seeing each other."

"Oh," he says in equal relief, but I'm not about to lead him on. Like I said, I don't lie well... especially to Matt.

"We're fucking each other," I tell him with a direct look. "Isn't that what you suggested we do?"

Matt's mouth drops open in astonishment. "Well... yeah, but I didn't think you'd take me seriously, though."

"It's just sex," I grit out. "Nothing more."

"But Macy doesn't do repeats," Matt says in confusion. "I'm not understanding here."

"What's to understand?" I practically sneer in frustration. "The woman likes me fucking her. She won't let me take her out to dinner, and she won't sleep with me at night, but she likes my cock well enough to keep coming back for more."

"Whoa," Matt says with his lips curved upward slightly. "Someone's a little angsty over this. Care to enlighten me?"

"Just fucking forget it," I spit out at him. "We're not friends, so don't pretend to really care about this."

"But Mac and Macy are friends," he retorts almost menacingly as he leans forward in his chair. "And clearly, you think this whole thing is wrong or otherwise, you wouldn't be keeping it a secret from her."

I stand up from my desk abruptly, my chair rolling back and slamming into the credenza behind me. Leaning forward, I slap my hands on my desk and snarl, "I'm not the one that wants to keep it secret from your wife. That's all Macy's doing."

"But Macy tells Mac everything," he says thoughtfully, rubbing his finger on his chin.

"Look... just forget you saw us," I say as I pull my chair back and sink down into it. I don't look back at Matt again; I just pull my chair forward and start flipping through a file on my desk, trying my best to ignore him.

"Yeah, not going to happen," he says, and I don't even have to look up to see the slight grin on his face. That annoys the fuck out of me.