by Nella Tyler
“Is he?” Mackenzie’s eyes were bright in the light of the theater.
“Do you want to go to your place or mine?”
Mackenzie considered for a moment. “Mine. Let’s go back to my place.”
Chapter Five - Mackenzie
I felt a little nervous when I unlocked the door to my apartment to let Patrick in; it had been a while since I’d been with anyone—and I hadn’t been with very many guys in the first place. The minute we were through the door, Patrick closed it behind us and wrapped his arms around me, leaning in to kiss me hungrily. His hands wandered all over my body, touching me everywhere, exploring every curve. After a moment or two I started to feel the heat building up inside of me again, every nerve in my body tingling; I started kissing back, letting my hands roam over Patrick’s back, his shoulders, feeling the way his muscles rippled and moved. I pressed my body against his, moaning as he cupped my breasts through my clothes and gave them a careful squeeze.
Patrick started leading me away from the door slowly and I broke away from his lips panting. I was already soaking wet—I could feel the heat throbbing in my core, the tightness in my hips; I wanted him so, so badly. “I—I need you to go slow,” I told Patrick breathlessly. “It’s been a while.” Patrick smiled down at me, one of his thumbs brushing against one of my hardened nipples.
“Me too,” he admitted. “I am fine with going slow.” My heart was racing with a mixture of nervousness and the need to feel Patrick’s body up against mine, to feel him inside of me. I grabbed his hand and led him towards my bedroom, pushing the door open and reaching for the light switch blindly. He wrapped his arms around me again, pulling me close, and I shivered as Patrick’s hand found the zipper at my back and started tugging it down. I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, breaking away from his lips just long enough to actually look at them before Patrick claimed my mouth with his again; somehow I managed to get one button undone, and then the next one.
Patrick slid my dress down over my shoulders, and our arms tangled up as he started guiding the fabric down over my body, even while I continued to struggle with getting his shirt unbuttoned. I felt my dress fall to the floor, and kicked my feet free of it, stepping out of the heels I’d put on. Patrick pulled back, and I blushed as he looked at me from head to toe slowly, his gaze pausing at my breasts, my hips, and my legs. “You are so, so beautiful Mackenzie,” he told me, looking into my eyes. “God—I’m a lucky man tonight.” He tugged his shirt off and tossed it aside, and I pulled the undershirt free of his jeans, kissing him quickly on the lips until I managed to get the silky material up to his chest.
Our clothes fell to the floor bit by bit, and in a matter of minutes I was completely naked, inches away from my bed, and Patrick stepped back once more to look me over slowly. I squirmed a little bit, resisting the impulse to cross my arms over my chest or cover myself with my hands. While he was busy staring at me, I took advantage of the situation to take in every inch of him: broad shoulders, muscled chest, the flat stomach with the washboard abs. He wasn’t hairy—just a little bit of hair around his nipples, a dark line of it leading from his navel down to his thick, hard cock. I licked my lips as I looked at his erection; it had been a long time since I’d been with someone, but I thought Patrick might be bigger than any of the few guys I had slept with before. I gave myself a shake and felt self-conscious again. Patrick met my gaze once more, his hands coming up to cup my bare breasts, his thumbs rubbing slowly over by nipples. “Why are you blushing?” he asked me, smiling a little bit.
“You’re staring at me,” I pointed out, smiling myself.
“Because you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen in years—maybe my whole life,” Patrick said. I blushed even harder. Patrick rolled my nipples between his fingers slowly, sending crackling jolts of sensation through my body even as his lips descended on mine. I shivered against him, exploring his body with my hands, touching him everywhere except his hard cock until finally it was the only part of him in my reach I hadn’t touched. I wrapped my hand around the heat and hardness of Patrick’s erection and he groaned against my lips as I started to stroke him slowly.
Patrick pulled back from my lips and dipped his head down, bringing one of my breasts up to his mouth. I moaned as he latched onto my nipple, sucking and licking, his hand kneading and massaging my other breast. He pressed me back until I started to tumble onto the bed, gasping. Patrick steadied me as I went down, covering my body with his own, caressing me everywhere as he kissed me again and again. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, writhing as Patrick’s hand slipped down between my legs. I felt his fingers brush against the slick folds of my labia and a little moan left my lips, my hips pushing down for better contact. “Mm,” Patrick murmured, his mouth against my neck, brushing up to my ear. “You’re already so wet…god, I’ve dreamed of this.”
I squirmed as Patrick’s fingers worked, rubbing and stroking me slowly. He barely missed my clit with his fingertips, teasing me. I kissed his face, his neck, along his shoulders, my hips moving to get better contact. I trembled as I got more and more turned on by the moment, rubbing against Patrick’s body, against his fingers, hungry—starving—for more. He nibbled along my throat, his mouth dipping down to my breasts again, and I lost all track of time as he worshipped my breasts with his lips and tongue, kissing and sucking and licking, sending crackling electric pleasure through my body that I hadn’t felt in years.
He began rocking his hips, rubbing the heat and hardness of his cock against my thigh even as he worked me with his fingers. Two fingers slid inside of me while Patrick’s thumb swirled around my clit, and I cried out, arching up off of the bed, my hands tightening on his back. “You’re so tight,” Patrick murmured, panting. “It’s going to feel so good to be inside you Mack…fuck.” His fingers wriggled and twisted inside of me, brushing against my inner walls, and all I could do was gasp and shiver and moan, my body moving with a will of its own.
Patrick kissed me again hungrily, and I felt the tension building between my hips, my muscles tightening more and more as he worked me with his hand. I moaned out, whimpering any moment his thumb left my clit even for a second, lost in the feelings coursing through my body.
In minutes—heartbeats, it seemed—I felt the tension between my hips becoming almost unbearably tight. I was on the edge of coming, so close that I could almost taste it. Patrick’s fingertips swirled around inside of me, finding my g-spot, and I almost screamed with pleasure as the tension broke. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through me, making it impossible to think. Patrick kissed me again and again, swallowing down my moans, and his fingers kept working inside of me, his thumb against my clit, as I lost myself in the sensations flowing through my body.
He didn’t stop until I began to slow down, shivering and panting for breath. “God that was good,” I said, opening my eyes and looking up to see Patrick watching me intently. His fingers slid out of me slowly, and he gave my clit a quick brush with his thumb as he settled on the bed next to me.
“I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said with a satisfied little grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve done that to someone.”
“That’s a shame,” I said, giggling almost uncontrollably. “You’re so good at it—that talent’s been going to waste.”
“I’ve been saving it all for you,” Patrick suggested. I rolled my eyes, turning over onto my side. Patrick’s cock was hard as a rock, flushed almost purple.
“Let me at least…” I licked my lips and reached out, feeling a little uncertain. I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and started stroking slowly up and down. “Is this okay?”
“More than okay,” Patrick said, groaning. “Just—fuck—just keep it slow. Don’t speed up. I don’t want to come in your hand.” I chuckled, rubbing the tip of his erection with my thumb as I stroked him. He felt so good, so hot and heavy in my hand. I wasn’t scared of how big he was. I wanted to feel him inside of me maybe as much as he wanted to feel me wra
pped around him.
Patrick’s hands started wandering over me, teasing and caressing, and I struggled to focus on rubbing his cock; it twitched against my palm, the tip going slick with precum, and I started to really get into it. I loved the way his hips moved, I loved the ripple of his muscles as he became more and more turned on. I felt my hand starting to go slick from the precum flowing freely from the tip of Patrick’s cock. He pushed my hand away all at once—and pushed me onto my back at the same time. “Are you ready for me?” I licked my lips and nodded.
Patrick covered my body with his own once again, his hips shifting against mine. He kissed me hungrily, his legs slipping down between mine, and I felt the heat and hardness of his cock rubbing against my soaking wet pussy, barely sliding in. “We’re going slow, right?” Patrick nodded, pulling himself up and balancing on one elbow above me. He reached down between our bodies and guided the tip of his cock against me, rubbing my clit for a moment before he pressed against my inner labia.
I moaned out as Patrick thrust into me slowly, filling me up inch by inch. It had been forever—at least it felt like that—since I’d been with someone, and I moaned again as Patrick pushed past the resistance of my body. He felt so thick, so hot inside of me. I arched up off of the bed, pushing my hips down to meet Patrick’s, taking him deeper and deeper by the moment.
We started moving together, touching each other everywhere, kissing everywhere our mouths could reach, and I lost myself again in the feeling of Patrick’s body against mine, his cock inside of me, rubbing along my inner walls. The tip of his cock brushed against my g-spot, and I cried out in pleasure, my thighs tightening around him, my whole body shuddering. Every time his cock brushed against my pleasure center I came closer and closer to climax, my body crackling with the sensations rushing through my veins. I clung to Patrick as if I was clinging to life itself, moving in time to his thrusts, my body completely in charge.
All at once, the last of my control dissolved and I came again, moaning out as Patrick moved inside me. Waves of pleasure washed through me, blotting out any thought, and all I could do was move with him, my muscles flexing and relaxing around the thick, hard cock buried deep inside me in little spasms. My climax intensified as Patrick sped up, thrusting harder and faster, rubbing against my g-spot again and again. I barely even noticed as he shuddered against me; I barely even heard the long, low groan of pleasure that left him. I felt his cock twitching inside of me and then the sticky-slick gush as he came. We both kept moving until we couldn’t anymore, and I smiled to myself as Patrick collapsed against me, panting as hard as I was, soaked with sweat. “We need…to do that again soon,” I told him. “As soon as we catch our breath.”
“I agree,” Patrick said. He pressed a lazy kiss to my cheek. “Give me ten minutes.”
Chapter Six - Patrick
I gulped down coffee as I pulled away from my parents’ house, glancing back into the back seat to see Landon. I was exhausted—I hadn’t stayed up until two in the morning with someone else for years—but it was worth it, as far as I was concerned. I smiled to myself. “Did you have a good time with Granny and Pop?”
“Yeah!” Landon looked up from his toy and smiled. “Granny made ice cream for dessert. It had chocolate in it—she let me watch!”
“Ice cream,” I said, nodding as I maneuvered into traffic carefully. “That does sound like a good night.”
“Did you have a good night Dad?” Landon watched me from the back seat. “You were with Mack, right?”
“I was,” I told him. I smiled again to myself, probably looking like an idiot—but I didn’t care.
“What did you do?” That was a trickier question; obviously I couldn’t tell my five-year-old son about mauling the mattress with his gorgeous physical therapist.
“We had dinner together and saw a movie.”
“You should take her to Fun Town,” Landon suggested. “That’s where I would take someone if I wanted to impress her.” I chuckled.
“Maybe I will,” I told him. “Fun Town is probably a better idea if you come with us on a date sometime.”
“Are you going to take me with you?” Landon sounded—and looked—surprised at the idea.
“If I see her a few more times I will,” I told him. “Would you want to see Mack outside of your sessions?”
“She’s nice,” Landon said with a shrug. “I like her.”
“I’m glad to hear it buddy,” I told him, thinking about how good it had felt to be with Mackenzie, how much better it had felt to doze off with my arms wrapped around her than it had ever felt to lie in bed alone. I had a vivid flash in my head of pinning Mackenzie down on the bed, of kissing her as I slid inside of her the second time, feeling her muscles tighten around me, feeling her wet heat wrap around my hard cock. Don’t think about that with your son in the car, I reminded myself. “It’s still the early days though,” I said out loud. “I don’t know if she wants to see me again.”
“Did you make her mad?” I chuckled as quietly as I could.
“Nope, I managed not to do that.”
“Then why wouldn’t she want to see you again?” I considered the question. From Landon’s perspective, the boy had a point. Why wouldn’t Mackenzie want to see me again? We’d had a good time, and the sex had been incredible. When I’d left her place in the early hours of the morning to catch some sleep before I went to pick Landon up to take him to school, we’d both agreed that we wanted to get together again. But she’d told me more than once that she felt weird about the ethics of dating a patient’s parent and I had to respect that.
“I’m just saying, if Mack doesn’t want to go with us to Fun Town, you and me will go by ourselves. Maybe next month.”
“Sure,” Landon said, shrugging again. “But if she doesn’t want to go with us to Fun Town, I don’t think I’d want to go with her anyway.” I turned into the gate at Landon’s school and laughed a little bit.
“That’s an excellent point.” I settled in to wait for my turn at the drop-off line, looking in front of me at the cars inching forward. “Let’s see how it pans out, okay?” I thought about the wager that Landon had made: that I couldn’t find him a new mom before the New Year. I’d probably been an idiot to accept it, since even if things went absolutely great with me and Mackenzie it wasn’t like I could marry her after knowing her for less than a month, but I thought—I hoped—that maybe we’d be on the track to at least having a good relationship by the New Year.
We went through the usual drop-off ritual, with me telling Landon to be good, asking him if he had his homework ready to turn in, if there was anything that he needed me to sign for his teacher. Landon informed me that he was fine—he had his homework done, with help from his grandparents, that he was ready for the school day. Finally I pulled up into the drop-off zone and put the car in park briefly; I had gotten a placard for the car when Landon broke his leg, so the people in line behind me, waiting to drop their kids off, wouldn’t start bitching. I helped Landon out of the car and gave him the cane he was allowed to use as he needed, made sure he had his lunch and his backpack, and then rushed back into the driver’s seat to get out of the way.
As soon as I was off school property, my thoughts turned back to Mackenzie. I’d worried that the flowers I’d gotten her were stupid, that it was something guys just didn’t do anymore and would make me look like an old man and a creep. But she’d loved them. In fact, she’d walked me to my car at the end of the night to get them out of the passenger seat where they’d been left behind in our rush to get to her bedroom.
I remembered what she’d said about liking peonies even better—and I reminded myself that I should track some down before our next date. Whenever that is… I shook off the possibility that she wouldn’t want to see me again, playing back every moment my tired brain could remember: how she’d loved the food at Girl and The Goat, the way she’d responded when I’d started kissing her. I was almost glad that it had taken more than one date for me to get int
o bed with her; it made it that much better.
I had hooked up a few times with women after Joanne died. I was never proud of it, and I tried to keep it to the bare minimum, but it had been years since I’d decided to focus completely on Landon and making sure that my son had what he needed. If I was honest with myself I was more than a little afraid when we went up to her apartment together that I wouldn’t be as good in bed as Mackenzie would want—or as good as she deserved. I grinned to myself as I maneuvered through busy Chicago traffic, making my way back towards the office. It had been like being in a diet for years and then going out to an enormous steak dinner; I was glad we’d gone slow the first time.
A shudder went down my spine at the memory of Mack’s hand wrapping around my cock, the way she’d started stroking me slowly, her thumb against the tip. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to get hard again—and there was no Mack in the car with me to take care of the problem. Cool off, man. Think of something else. I pushed the thought of more sex with her out of my mind and focused on the date itself; the conversation we’d had over dinner, the way she was so beautiful when she was comfortable and at ease.
Mack was exactly the kind of woman you’d think was putting you off because other guys hit her on constantly. Even in her scrubs—the most shapeless, sexless clothes on the planet—she looked fit and comfortable in her own skin, and when she dressed up she looked like an absolute angel. I shook my head, smiling to myself. She looked good, she smelled good, she was smart and funny; she was exactly what I would have told anyone I wanted in a woman. Part of my brain thought that Mack might even be more beautiful than Joanne had been—but I couldn’t let myself think that. I loved Joanne, and I would miss her for the rest of my life.
But I couldn’t let myself compare Joanne and Mackenzie. They were two different women, who had appeared in my life at two very different points. I had to keep them separate in my mind. I couldn’t even give myself the freedom to think that one might be better at something than the other; it would feel too much like cheating one of them. Mackenzie was who she was: beautiful, smart, good at her job, passionate about helping kids get back into shape after injuries and helping them to cope with disabilities. She was someone I thought I could come to care about a lot, if things worked out between us. She was someone I hoped Landon could get along with outside of the physical therapy sessions.