by A. C. Bextor
“His name was Scotch and he died. Dogs don’t live forever, or didn’t you know that?” Mace smirks to me, as she answers my not so bright date. Her claws are out, which means she’s not unaffected, interestingly enough.
I move my arm around Ginger to mirror Greyson’s possessive gesture, and Mace scowls at my movement. I’m getting to her as much as she’s getting to me.
Two can play, sweetheart … and I always win.
“I’ve already ordered for us, I hope that’s alright. The wine here is absolutely delightful, and the glazed duck is mouthwatering.”
Delightful. Mouthwatering. Seriously, Greyson? I look to Hem, who is trying to control a laugh, and watch Sadey grab his hand as it rests on the table’s surface as she gives him a warning look. He quiets down, but fuck it’s tough. If I wasn’t concentrating on the fact that Greyson’s touching my girl, I would find it humorous, as well.
“That’s fine. Duck sounds delicious.” Sure. Right, Ginger. Like you’ve ever had it? Doubtful.
I hear a cell phone ring, and look around the table to see who’s going to answer it. Greyson, the suit, must be getting a call from the office. I don’t even realize I’ve let out a disgusted grunt under my breath until Ginger puts her hand on my knee under the table, squeezing it to get my attention.
Greyson gets up to take the call, leaving Mace alone with us momentarily.
“So, sweetheart, after dinner where are you and the ‘suit’ goin'?”
She doesn’t answer. She stares at me with hurt in her eyes, then looks to Ginger’s other hand, which is currently stroking my arm seductively. I know Mace is searching for the hand that’s still holding my knee under the table. I like the way Mace wears her jealousy. It’s a good look.
“I … I…”
“Knock it off, Shame. Leave her alone. She was nervous enough about this before you showed up with … her.” I’m glad Hem still stands up for his little sister, but I’ve got no interest in hurting her, not in that way at least.
I rephrase my question, expecting an answer. “Mace? What are you and Greyson doing tonight?”
“I don’t know. We thought maybe just dinner. Mom and dad are gone, so we’re staying at the house. Dad doesn’t like it left alone in that ‘neighborhood’.”
“What the fuck?”
She smiles at me. “Shame, you know I’m twenty, right? I can share a bed…”
Instantly, I’m pissed off. I stand and start to move away from my friends. She’s right, I know she’s twenty, but I don’t think about her being old enough to have sex with any other person but me. This isn’t so much an ‘age’ issue as much as it’s a ‘mine’ issue.
Throwing my napkin down, grabbing Ginger by her arm, I turn to leave, but I’m stopped when I see Greyson coming from around the corner. He looks pissed, but once he reaches Mace, his face softens. Fuckin’ pussy, if you got something to be pissed about then be pissed, don’t mask it from my woman … your woman. Fuck!
“Love, that was the office. I need to go. I’ll take you home and call you later?”
“Are you sure? We’re going to miss dinner. Do you want to wait and take some with you? You haven’t eaten anything.” I hate the way she’s looking at him as if he holds the key to all her future happiness. I hate that she’s nurturing him. I hate him.
“I’m good, love. It’s alright.”
“I’m going to stay with my friends. Call me when you’ve finished, and I can meet you later.”
“It’s going to be late. The issue is a sensitive one.” He glares at Hem as he says that. What did I miss? “Here’s some money for a taxi. See that you text me when you’re back at the house, so I don’t worry.”
He bends down to kiss Mace’s cheek, then turns to all of us and nods his goodbye. Sadey is the only one with any interest in watching him walk away, and I just saw Hem shoot her a quick look. He doesn’t like the way Sadey is checking out Greyson from behind. Funny.
“Well, I’m out of a ride, and I hate public transportation, I get enough of that at school. Hem, can you take me home after dinner?”
“No, I’m taking you home. Hem has Sadey, and he can take Ginger with him when he goes.”
All of a sudden I feel like I’m at an animal petting zoo, and I can only hear the shrieking sounds of baby pigs. Ginger is going ape shit, in a crowded restaurant, on a busy night.
“No, not again! This is not happening again. I accept your dinner invitation; I get dressed, suck your dick and let you come down my throat, get ignored through dinner and now … now you tell me you’re not even going to take me home. No, not again!”
Hem looks to Ginger and laughs. “Darlin’, you really should stop talkin’ if you don’t want a repeat of the entire evening we had all those years ago. Shame’s about to blow.”
With that, my bitch of a date gets up and storms off, but not without turning around to flip me off on her way out. Yeah, sweetie, that hurts.
The waiter interrupts comedy hour by bringing our food and the disgustingly ‘delicious’ wine. Immediately, I order us all what we really drink, including Mace and Sadey’s water.
We spend the rest of the evening relaxed as we laugh and enjoy each other’s company again. It’s like the two years the girls were gone never happened.
Sadey continues to complain about the dorm as Mace tells us all about the perverted professor she has for English literature. The same professor that I’m willing to make a justified visit to if I hear that he touches her again - in any manner.
After I pay the bill, I help Mace up from the table, sliding the chair away for her to stand. She puts her hand on my chest, stopping my motions the moment she touches me. “I had fun, Shame. Thank you for coming. I’m glad you did.”
I wrap my hand around her small one - holding it tightly against my chest, and use my other to hold her chin in place, capturing her eyes so she knows my words are true, “Me too. I’ve missed you.”
She smiles as I take her hand from my chest, holding it in mine as I lead her to the front door.
Sadey has her arm in Hem's as they walk to her car, and Mace continues to follow me. She stops before I open the truck door for her. Looking up, she takes a second to think, and I would give anything to know what’s goin’ on in that head of hers at this moment.
“Shame…”
“Yeah, baby?” I move a piece of hair from her face, pulling it behind her ear feeling the slight chill in the air that the spring has brought with it.
When she doesn’t say anything, I open the door, and she climbs in, never finishing the thought.
Once we get to her house I know it’s a bad idea, but I’ve been known to have worse. “I’m comin’ in. Is that alright? Nothing’s goin’ on tonight and my date left me.”
She laughs as she fidgets with her house keys. “Your date left because you got rid of her. She still hates me, doesn’t she?”
“Fuck her.”
She laughs again, and my jeans tighten at the sound.
“Are you with her again?”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb. Are you … with her again?”
“No, Mace. You know I’m never ‘with’ anyone.” But you.
She doesn’t respond, just turns to open her door and hops out. I follow her in the house and immediately go to the fridge. I’ve never seen Mace drink. I'm unsure if she ever has had any ‘delicious’ wine, but thinking about that fuck stick giving it to her is enough to piss me off again. I pull out the bottle and open it, pouring her a glass.
“I’m going to go change.” She says to my back as she leaves the room.
The silence is deafening as I wait for her return. When she comes back, my dick once again wants to come alive. Mace is wearing nothing more than a spaghetti strap nightshirt and a pair of men’s boxers that only enhance the shape of her athletic build.
I want those boxers removed, and those legs wrapped around me.
“You poured me a glass of wine? Are you tryin’ to get me drunk?�
��
“No.” Yes.
She narrows her eyes and tilts her head. “Are you sure you’re not trying to get me even a little tipsy?”
“Nope.” Yep.
“You would like me drunk. I’m pretty feisty.” Fuck yes, I would.
Right now my mind is attempting to think of anything other than Mace underneath me as I taste the residual wine left on her breath.
“Shame? Hello? Hey, I said - do you want to watch a movie?”
Fuck, I need to get it together.
“Yeah, sure.”
She picks out an action movie, thank fuck. I don’t need to be holding her during a fuck scene.
We’re laying on the couch. It’s innocent, because it’s nothing we haven’t done before. We’ve watched movies together for years. Granted, they used to be full on Disney movies, always ending in happily ever after, but a movie is a movie. As she got older, her movie choices changed, and she would bury her head in my neck during scary and intense scenes.
I’m flat on my back, and she’s laying on top of me. I can feel her flinch when something surprises her on the screen. She hasn’t changed at all, but now every single move she makes creates friction and my cock is answering her motions on my body’s behalf.
I squeeze her, giving her a hug, and in reaction she nestles her head further under my chin. Her smell is enough to make my eyes roll to the back of my head, but the kicker is when she starts to move her hands on either side of my body, pushing her chest into mine.
I’m hard. She’s got to feel this, but she doesn’t say anything.
Scrambled eggs, lettuce, milk … wait … no milk, no milk … fuck, her chest is killin’ me.
“Babe, you gotta get up.”
She doesn’t move. She just grabs at my chest and tightens her hold on my t-shirt.
I know she heard me, but she’s ignoring my demand. “Mace, seriously, you have to get up.”
“No, I’m comfortable. You let me drink too much wine. I never want to move. This feels too nice.”
Mental note: Wine. Always give Mace wine.
I push her up at the same time I make my way to sit up. She’s on her knees, staring at me. That look. Fuck. If could capture that, I wouldn’t ever need another bitch to get me off again.
“Mace…”
She whispers as her brown eyes stare at my lower lip piercing. “What, Shame?”
“Fuck.” I stand up, and since she’s still sitting on the couch, I can only look down at her as she moves her neck to follow my upward motion. “I should go.”
“No. Please. Don’t go. Spend the night. You can sleep on the couch. I hate sleeping here alone when mom and dad are gone.”
No, don’t beg, Mace. Yes, beg. God, let me hear you beg … for me.
“Sweetheart, do you realize what I’m feeling right now? I mean, it’s…”
Spend the night? I want to spend the night, with her, in her bed. No, I can’t. Can I?
She blushes, her soft olive skin turns crimson under my gaze. She moves her head to look directly at my waist. My reaction to her is staring right at her.
She answers, still giving notice to my extended zipper. “Yes.”
“Mace, I can’t…”
“Please. Stay with me.”
She licks her bottom lip, her pink tongue drawing something inside me and bringing it to the surface. If I’m not blind, which I don’t believe that I am, I see her eyes fill with lust.
Running my hands through my hair, I pull it tightly to let out a moment of frustration. “Not a good idea…”
She doesn’t respond. She just continues to look at me with an expression I’ve never truly seen her wear. I know this guise. I’ve been with many women, and oftentimes have made them work for it. Her eyes are laced with lust, and her lips are still open, revealing that beautiful pink tongue.
Jesus H. Christ.
“Mace, what are you doing?”
“What?” She really has no clue about my ability to read her body. I’ve been able to read her since she was a kid, fuck I miss that … her being a kid.
“Stop, I can’t. You don’t know what you’re asking…”
She drops her eyes and looks down to avoid my eyes. “Okay.”
She looks sad, and I’m being a dick. I remember as a kid she didn’t like to sleep alone. She had to have stuffed animals surrounding her before she felt safe enough to close her eyes. I need to man the fuck up and do this, proving to myself – and her – that I can handle it. She’s Greyson’s, and although I hate that fucker, I have to accept it. He’s good for her; I’m not.
This is a bad idea, I know it as I think it … but fuck it. “Well, c’mon then. Let’s go to bed.”
She hops off the couch, smiling ear to ear, and takes my hand as she leads me to her room. Man, I’m going to miss that couch tonight.
It takes her a few minutes to pull about fifteen decorative pillows off her small bed, as she talks animatedly about the movie we just watched and how she hated the ending because the bad guy got away. I can’t agree or disagree because I didn’t watch the damn thing. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have a raging hard-on trying to escape my fuckin’ jeans.
With my clothes on and above the covers, I lay with her, and as she continues to talk I lose myself in her voice. I can’t touch her. If I touch her, then no fuckin’ way will I stop. My dick is still begging for attention, and mentally I plan to take care of it as soon as Chatty Cathy here falls asleep.
Once she catches her breath, she leans over into me, grabbing my shirt at the chest and tucking her head under my chin again. “Thanks for staying with me.”
“No problem, Mace. Go to sleep.”
“You want me to sleep?”
“Fuck yeah, woman, I need for you to sleep.” My dick needs you to sleep.
“I’m not exactly tired anymore. I was comfy on the couch, weren’t you?”
“No.” No, but yes.
She lets out a sigh, and I feel a smile underneath it because she knows she’s making me uncomfortable a-fuckin'-gain. “You’re mad.”
“Mad about what?”
“Mad about how comfortable you were with me. Admit it.”
“Mace…”
Fuckin’ little shit is baiting me.
Moonlight is shining through her blinds, and I am watching her look at me. She’s staring at my face and neck. She licks that bottom lip again, and my body gets tense. Once she recognizes that I’m fighting for control, she answers. “Fine.”
She curls the covers around her, moves, and turns her back to me. It takes me about one minute before I turn myself into her, holding her to me, as my mind races with visions of what having her like this for the rest of my life would feel like.
It feels right.
Before I fall asleep I lean my face into the back of her neck, savoring this moment. “I love your face, baby. Goodnight.”
She doesn’t respond because she’s already asleep.
~~~~~
My intentions were good. I didn’t mean to stay with her that night as long as I did. I sure as hell didn’t mean to fall asleep. Fuck, I meant to wake up in the middle of the night and leave her there to continue her sweet dreams and wake up to her happy life with Greyson.
None of that happened. Instead, I slept well beside her, as if we had done this every night before. It was natural, and it made me feel alive.
Chapter Nineteen
“All men have a sweetness in their life. That is what helps them go on. It is towards that they turn when they feel too worn out."
-Albert Camus
Mace’s twenty second birthday marked the last birthday that would pass without her in my life on a daily basis. Even though my mind wouldn’t allow it, my heart knew that the night I met Greyson had changed Mace and I both. That same night at her house, when I didn’t want to let her go - I had seen two precarious emotions she held for me in her eyes – love and lust. That moment I knew I was done wasting time. Soon she was going to be finished with schoo
l and coming back here, to me - for good.
I just didn’t know it would take me another year to fully commit to making her mine. I had to be sure. During that year, I kept my distance from everyone. Avoiding both Sadey and Mace during the visits home wasn’t easy, but I did it. Oftentimes, I would ask Doc to let me out on a ride just to get me out of town and away from what I wanted.
She and I never spoke of that night again. It was as if we were capable of burying it to just a small memory that both of us guarded, away from all others. As if no one in our lives had the right to know our feelings were finally being faced, but we weren’t ready to expose them – not even to each other.
~~~~~
“How are you, sweetheart?”
Mace is home this weekend for her twenty second birthday. Another fuckin’ dinner. I can’t stay away any longer.
“I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m around.” Lighting a cigarette, I stand with her, on the porch of her parent’s house, waiting for Hem to get here and pick us up. The thought of sitting through another dinner with her and Greyson agitates me. Now, for extra fun, Warren will be in attendance.
“Hem says you’ve been busy at the club, and that you’re not around here much. Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
I can feel her eyes on me as I look to the street ahead and watch the cars pass us by. It’s quiet between us. We’ve rarely been wrapped in awkward silence, and I hate that we are now.
“Are you seeing anyone? I mean … someone specifically that you … ummm…”
Turning my head to look towards her, I smile when our eyes meet. Mace is generally a straight shooter, but right now she’s fearing my answer. Not because she wants me, but because she’s wanting to be sure I’m not alone and desolate – without her.
“Yeah, I am. Things are good, babe. I’m not alone, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
A shadow of disappointment casts over her face. “Okay. I’m happy for you. I want to meet her.”
“You’ve met.”
“We have?”
Her eyebrows come together in thought. She’s trying to put a face to a name I’ve yet to give her. “Yes, Mace. You remember Bloom?”