by Kyra Fox
Chapter Three
MAC
I was planning on a quiet Saturday night in with a beer or two and a rerun of a game. Any game.
Anything to distract me from Thursday night, from non-stop thoughts about Zoe. At one point I even contemplated inviting one of my mutual benefit acquaintances to take my mind off the petite brunette who had taken residence in it, but as I scrolled through my contacts, none of them seem appealing.
In just a few hours, Zoe managed to get under my skin. I kept dreaming about her laughter, the knowing glint in her eyes which made me feel like I could tell her anything, and how soft her skin felt when I kissed her cheek. I can’t stop imagining how it would have felt to kiss her lavish mouth, maybe give a little nibble to that curvy top lip of hers causing her to gasp. And then I’d take the opportunity to slide my tongue into her mouth and my hands over her breasts…
“No!” I scold myself. “She’s too good for you, and you can’t have her, so just stop.”
Popping open my Blue Moon and propping my feet on the coffee table where I had set up an array of snacks, I point the remote at the TV, when suddenly my phone rings. I assume it’s my brother, so I answer without looking at the screen.
“Hello?” There’s a pause from the other side of the line.
“Hi.” I recognize the voice immediately.
“Zoe. Hi.” We had exchanged numbers on Thursday, but I’m surprised she called considering how the night had ended.
“Is this a bad time?” Her voice is strained, and I wonder if something happened.
“No, it’s fine, is everything okay?”
“I don’t appreciate how we left things after our date, Mac, I’d like to meet.”
“Yeah, sure. You want to come over?” I say it so fast even I’m a bit taken aback. My head scolds me that I should have said no, or at least offered to meet on neutral ground, but other parts of me can’t quite stop themselves from wanting her to come to my apartment, be here alone with me.
“Okay, that sounds good.” Her answer catches me by surprise, as does the apparent relief in her voice. Despite the astonishment, a surge of excitement rushes through me, even the rational part of me is thrilled at the prospect, and whatever excuses I had made to stop myself from pursuing her go flying out the window.
After about twenty minutes, there’s a knock on the door, and I rush to open it, freezing as I do.
“Hey.” Zoe’s standing at the threshold of my Union Square apartment, wearing an olive-green trench coat, cut at her waist with a knotted belt and reaching down to her knees, giving me a peek at her sheer black stockings running all the way down to her black stiletto’s.
Her makeup is more elaborate than Thursday, but still not too overt—Smokey eyelids which serve to make her doe eyes even bigger and more soul-bearing and, to my dismay, lip gloss. She’s carrying that giant bag which clashes terribly with her put-together look.
“Ahem…” Zoe clears her throat as she shifts uncomfortably.
“Sorry! Come in. Hi.” I feel like an idiot for ogling her while she just stands on the other side of my apartment door.
Zoe scans her surroundings, her eyes growing wide when they land on my full wall library, stacked to the brim with books. People are always surprised to find out I'm an avid reader, even more so when they discover my favorite genre is science fiction. It's something I've come to expect, but seeing those chestnut eyes harbor that look somehow bothers me more than usual.
“I like sci-fi, mostly.” I pull my shoulders and shove my hands into the pockets of my gray sweats. “Though I do read quite a few genres.”
“I’m more of a historical novel person myself.” Zoe puts her tote next to the coat rack. “Though I love Hitchhikers Guide.”
“Makes sense, a beautiful genius goes on an adventure in space.” I smile at her, and a blush creeps up her cheeks.
“Well, what do you know?” She laughs and takes a step toward me. “He really can be charming.”
I like how effortlessly she makes me laugh. “How are you, Zo?”
“I’m good.” She’s doing that thing, trying to tuck her bangs behind her ear.
“Really? Because you have a tell when you’re nervous and it’s shooting red flares right now.” I raise an eyebrow, and she stares at me for a few seconds, her eyes studying my face, before pursing her lips together and exhaling through her nose with a small nod.
With a look of determination, she undoes the belt of her coat, letting it drop to the floor.
Wow. That’s all my brain can register.
Zoe’s wearing silky pink lingerie with black lace mesh trimmings; her push-up bra shaping the top of her breasts into perfect globes, a matching thong that 's held by three flimsy strips of fabric on her narrow hips leaving very little room for imagination, and a garter belt that accentuates the slight curve of her waist holding up sheer black thigh-highs hugging her toned legs, the entire look completed by the spiky heeled shoes on her feet, and I’m pretty sure I have maybe two brain cells still functioning. Sort of.
She’s more compact than petite, I note, not just skinny and small, and damn that stupid sweater for giving an illusion of a flat chest. Her breasts are amazing, the exact right size to fit perfectly in the palms of my hands.
Zoe leans back against the wall and lets me take her in for as long as I want. She’s attempting to look calm and collected, but she keeps tucking her bangs behind her ear, a gesture I’m finding increasingly adorable.
A sparkle from the garter belt catches my eye, and I realize it’s from the foil wrapper of a condom. That’s all the invitation I need, and with a growl I reach Zoe in two long strides and pull her in, my lips finding hers, and she lets out a soft sigh that I swear is a sigh of relief as her fingers tangle into my hair.
I start deepening the kiss only to be stopped by her palm on my chest and a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“My turn to inspect the goods, Mr. Mackenzie.” She waves her hand in a “step back” motion, and I contemplate ignoring her. But the way she’s looking at me, her lips slightly parted and her big eyes scanning me up and down with heat, makes me want to do anything she asks of me.
So, I dutifully comply, backing up enough for her to have a full view as I start undressing. First I bare my feet, then I fist the back of my shirt and pull it over my head, folding it before carefully placing it on the floor next to my discarded socks.
I flex my pecks and wiggle my eyebrows and Zoe lets out a soft giggle, but I don’t miss how the tip of her tongue darts out to lick her upper lip.
This time I don’t bother to suppress the groan it elicits from me, and Zoe looks surprised, as if she didn’t believe until that moment that I find her sexy in any way, but then smiles coyly and wiggles a finger at my sweatpants with a raised eyebrow.
“First you have to do something for me.” I grab some napkins from the coffee table and hand them to her before backing up again. “Could you please wipe off the lip-gloss?”
Zoe looks baffled by my request but starts wiping her lips anyway, and damn if it isn’t one of the most sensual things I have ever witnessed.
“Better?” Zoe pouts her lips in my direction, and my breath catches in my chest.
“Perfect.” I undo the string of my sweats, letting them drop around my ankles and then shrug them off, placing them with the rest of my clothes in a tidy pile.
“Going commando, I see.” Zoe’s gaze is raking over my body with appreciation, her mouth slightly open, and her breathing uneven. She makes a twirling motion with her finger, and I slowly spin, giving her time to take in as much of me as she desires.
The entire scenario is making me feel very aware of my nakedness and of Zoe staring at me. I’m not a shy guy, I know I look good, but this feels very exposed, kind of intimate.
I’ve made a full 360 and am about to say something smartass about Zoe enjoying the show. But when I face her again, her fingers are stroking the patch of fabric between her legs as she looks at me with an e
lectric stare that could light up the entire city of Boston for the night, and both my functioning neurons just got fried.
Her other hand stretches out to me, beckoning me to come to her, and I’m so hazed in lust that I barely register I’ve moved until my body is pressed against hers pinning her to the wall, her eyes a dark storm of lust as our gazes connect.
I lean closer, and her breath hitches.
“That’s my job.” I press my lips to hers with a firm kiss, causing us both to groan at the contact. My hand caresses her neck, traveling down her collarbone, and when I run my thumb over the top of her breast, she moans, giving me an opening to slide my tongue into her mouth.
The kiss is quickly becoming heated. Zoe’s stroking me softly, nothing that’s supposed to drive me crazy, but her small delicate hands do things to me that I can’t explain, and when my fingers find the front of her panties soaked through, I can’t hold it together any longer, it’s all too intense.
I swear, ripping the strips of fabric holding her thong together with ease and crashing my mouth back on hers, pushing my tongue past her lips with urgent desire which she mirrors as her tongue glides against mine.
Snatching the condom from the garter, I roll it on in record time and cup Zoe’s ass. Lifting her, her legs wrapping around me, she hooks her ankles at the small of my back and her arms around my neck.
Pushing her against the wall, the head of my cock finds her opening and I bury myself inside her with one firm thrust, causing her to break our intoxicating kiss with a gasp.
“Fuck, Zoe, you’re so tight,” I groan, burying my face in her shoulder.
This insatiable thirst for her body had gotten me so frenzied that it hadn’t occurred to me that this part I should take slow, measured, let her get used to me gradually. She’s a petite woman, and I’m a big man, and despite the maddening sexual energy between us—I had no intention of losing myself to the point of hurting her in the name of my own pleasure.
One of Zoe’s hands slides from my neck into my hair. Tangling her fingers into it, she gives my head a firm yank, so I’m forced to look up at her face.
“I’m not some porcelain doll you have to be gentle with so she won’t break, Mac.” Her legs tighten around me. “Now fuck me.”
My hesitation lasts for only a second more before I let myself get lost in the electrical storm between us. I pull out almost all the way and thrust back into her.
“Yes,” she hisses, lightning flashing through her eyes as she holds my gaze. “Like that.”
My pace keeps deep and hard, and very soon we’re both panting, gasping for air, a thin layer of sweat covering our bodies. Zoe tightens her arm around my neck, pulling me closer to her.
“Faster,” she whispers, and I obey, pounding into her with tenacity.
I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to hold back, the tightness and intensity pulling and pushing at me, my body starting to beg for sweet relief.
Zoe’s crying out softly, fisting my hair in a way that’s almost painful and pressing her heels into my back, urging me on, asking for more. I can feel her inner muscles starting to clench, pulling me even deeper, the tension in my body starting to become unbearable.
“Come for me, Zoe.” And with a silent cry, she comes apart around me. I force myself to hold on until the peak of her orgasm is over, only then letting myself fall into my own blissful release.
Through the hazy fog of my post-apocalyptic orgasm, a single thought manages to penetrate—I’m in way over my head.
ZOE
“That was nice,” I murmur into Mac’s shoulder.
“Nice?” Mac raises an eyebrow and slowly slides out of me, gently placing me on the ground.
I have to lean on the wall to steady myself as my knees feel like jelly.
“B+, maybe A-.” I give him a cheeky grin as he walks to the kitchen to discard the condom and pour us water. “We both know you can do better, Mr. Mackenzie.”
He turns and points at me with a stern look, fighting the upward tug at the corners of his lips.
“That was an A+ performance with extra credit for outstanding results, Professor, and you know it!” He hands me a glass, and I take a sip, letting my gaze drift over the strappingly built man in front of me.
His skin is tanned from working outdoors, and I can see the roughness of manual labor on his large hands, his blacker than black hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. The darkness of it only serves to make his emerald green eyes blaze even brighter.
The muscles of his strong neck flex as his head moves slightly up so he can gulp down his water, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.
I picture the liquid flow down his esophagus, through his sculpted chest with black hair sprinkled over it, all the way to his stomach where the hair trails a thin line between the muscles of his six-pack abs. Then my gaze keeps following the line of hair over his narrowed hips all the way down to a remarkably beautiful penis.
I never thought I’d be one to refer to a man’s penis as beautiful, but being around Mac is causing me to do all sorts of things I had never thought about doing before.
“Well, you can always get a do-over if you feel my grading is unfair.” I’m standing very close to him, the static charge that seems to manifest between our bodies humming as it starts building up, and I can already feel the wetness between my thighs. Mac slides his fingers into my short hair and an arm around my waist and pulls me in, our bodies pressing against each other.
Rubbing the small of my back, he leans down and gently presses his lips to mine, kissing me with tender intent, prying my lips open with his as I nip and suck on his lower lip until I feel the tip of his tongue asking permission to go further which I eagerly give.
It’s a soft exploring kiss, it feels a lot like a first kiss, and I realize this is a first kiss, the one I was hoping to get on Thursday night.
As far as first kisses go, this one sets the bar very high. His tongue explores my mouth, rubbing against mine as I moan softly, the erotic strokes sending jolts of desire down to my abdomen, a growing ball of energy filling my body. Mac’s feeling it too, he’s already hard again. I reach down and run my finger over his length, causing him to curse under his breath.
“I believe you owe me a little show first.” He steps back and indicates the lingerie I’m still wearing.
I feel my insecurities start to creep in; I’d look silly and awkward stripping, and Mac would never find me sexy once he got a good, close look.
But I force myself to push the thoughts back, instead, concentrating on Mac’s lust-filled gaze. I came here for a single purpose, and self-doubting serves nothing for it. I decide that if Mac wants a show, I’ll put on one hell of a performance.
“Where’s the bedroom?” Mac points at a room down the hall to the left. I turn my back to him, shooting him what I hope is a come hither look over my shoulder before heading toward the room, swaying my hips to the best of my ability, unhooking my garter belt’s fastener as I walk, only to stop and bend down, taking my time as I unclip my stockings, first left then right.
“Perfect,” Mac mutters as he comes up behind me, smoothing his rough worker hands over my ass, sending a shudder up my spine.
I’m not used to dating guys who perform manual labor on a regular basis, but Mac’s coarse palms on my soft skin, caressing and kneading my butt cheeks, feel better than any soft hand that ever touched me.
When I’m done unclipping, I straighten up, stretching my hand to the side and letting the garter belt drop to the floor. I keep walking toward the bedroom, never looking back, feeling Mac’s heated gaze on me as he follows.
Reaching for the clasp of my bra, I unhook it and slide off one strap while holding the cups firmly in place. Continuing toward the bed I repeat the motion with the other strap but keep my chest covered until I reach my destination.
Turning around and letting the bra drop to the floor, I revel as Mac’s gaze flares. He treads toward me, and I sit o
n the bed, lifting my leg to him. Mac holds my ankle and releases my foot from one shoe. A relieved sigh escapes my lips as he does. He picks up on it and gently rubs my foot to relieve some of the tension, repeating with the other side.
He drops to his knees in front of me, slowly rolling the stockings down my thighs, his fingers brushing my tender skin as he does, pausing only to run his thumb over the tattoo of an oxytocin molecule on my right foot, then placing everything at the foot of the bed in a neat pile, my discarded garter included.
“You are stunning.” His intense eyes never leave mine. “And those eyes, Zoe, I could look at them for hours.”
I feel a blush creep up to my cheeks and notice Mac’s gaze drift down to my neck all the way to my chest. A triumphant grin spreads across his face as he traces my collarbone with his finger.
“You give the best compliments.” I lean forward and cup his face in my hands, pulling him in for a searing kiss which he answers with the same earnestness I feel.
He breaks the kiss to graze my jaw with his teeth, descending to my shoulder and moving to my neck, where he latches on with an open mouth kiss and sucks with eagerness while his hands find my breasts, his palms covering them perfectly as his thumbs stroke my sensitive skin.
“Mac!” I gasp, and he catches my moans with a kiss as he plays with my nipples and caresses my soft flesh, studying my reactions to him, taking his time with me to make up for the impatient frenzy of our first round.
“God, I adore your hands.”
He lets out a low rumbly chuckle and catches my nipple between his lips. “I adore your entire body,” Mac whispers. My breaths are short and shaky as I let Mac explore my body with his hands and mouth, but when he starts kissing up my thighs, I freeze. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not a big fan of that.” I gesture at his face and then between my legs, feeling a blush creep up again as I’m sure he’ll mock my admission. “It always feels weird and uncomfortable.”
Mac responds with a soft kiss. “Well, I promise you that’s because they were doing it wrong.” He starts rubbing my inner thighs with the pad of his thumbs, venturing higher with every stroke. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’m sure we can find other ways to pleasure you, maybe with some of those body parts you adore.” He runs his thumb over my wet pussy and presses it on my clit.