by RC Boldt
Foster rummaged through the refrigerator, coming away with a beer before sitting in the chair beside the couch.
“What brings you guys by?”
Foster gave him a look. “Someone forced me to go for a ‘relaxing walk on the beach,’” he used air quotes. “Our versions of relaxing differ greatly. This is what I call relaxing,” his friend gestured to his position on the couch with the beer in his hand.
Laney rolled her eyes at her brother. “Whatever, dude.”
Suddenly, something caught her eye in Mac’s unfolded laundry pile. She reached out and grabbed something black and lacy. He felt himself freeze at the sight of a pair of Raine’s thong underwear mixed in with his clothes. She must have left it here and it had gotten tossed in his hamper.
“Oooh, what have we here?” Laney dangled the panties from her index finger. Peering closely at the label, her eyes widened and she let out a low whistle. “Agent Provocateur. Niiiiice.” Suddenly, her brow furrowed and her eyes found Mac’s, gaze scrutinizing. “This looks an awful lot like one of the pairs Raine bought on sale not long ago.”
He felt Foster’s gaze focus on him. Darting a glance to his friend, something must have communicated to him as Foster suddenly laughed. “Laney, you should know better.” Tossing a thumb in Mac’s direction, he scoffed, “As if this guy were smart enough to keep Raine around and satisfied. Most likely one of Mac’s easy lays left it, thinking it was a way to get a second invite back here.”
Mac was left speechless. Foster knew Mac’s rule about never bringing women back to his place. To have his friend come to his defense and ultimately lie to his own sister was pretty fucking serious, to say the least.
Laney looked at Mac, almost impressed. “Geez, Mac. If you found a chick who wears this kind of beautiful and sexy underwear, you need to keep her.”
“Yeah, Mac. You need to definitely keep this one around.” Foster’s tone was heavy with insinuation. He held Mac’s gaze for a prolonged moment.
“Um, okay. If you two are done with your weird mental guy-chat thingy, then we’d better get going since we still have quite a ways to walk to head home,” Laney eyed both of them oddly, before standing from the couch.
“Need a cup for that, man?” Mac offered to Foster since glass was prohibited on the beach.
“Sure.”
“I’ll wait for you outside, Fos. Bye, Mac,” Laney called out to him as she opened the door to leave.
“And, seriously, think about bringing underwear girl with you on Saturday. I’d love to meet her.” Laney slid the door closed behind her, leaving the two men in silence.
“Thanks, man. I appre-” Mac started to say as he poured the remaining beer into a plastic cup for Foster.
“Don’t thank me, man,” Foster interrupted him. “I shouldn’t be the one covering for you.” He shook his head in disgust. “Hell if I know why I did it in the first place. But, it’s done. And, now, the rest is up to you.”
Foster took the cup from Mac’s extended hand and muttered his thanks before exiting the house, leaving Mac to ponder his words.
“The rest is up to you.”
He just wished he knew what the hell he was supposed to do now.
RAINE’S FRIENDS WERE currently giving her grief as to how happy she’d been lately.
“What has you so glowy all of a sudden?” Tate questioned her, eyeing her up and down.
“I don’t think that’s even a word, Tate.” Raine was getting tired of them peppering her with questions.
“Quit deflecting,” Laney’s eyes narrowed on her. “You’ve been more upbeat lately.” She peered at her closely. “And I have to agree with Tate on the glowy thing.”
“See? I told you,” Tate nodded.
Raine threw up her hands in aggravation. “Seriously! You two need to stop.” She continued to organize her folders and materials for the next day’s experiment.
“Well, when we have friends amongst us who are getting lucky, we have to pump them for details,” Laney told her, hands on her hips.
Raine’s head shot up in surprise. “Friends? As in, plural?”
“Yeah, Raine. Plural. Mac scored some chick who wears Agent Provocateur panties. He was folding laundry when Foster and I stopped by and it was mixed in with his stuff. It looked a lot like the pair you bought. Maybe she got them at the same sale,” Laney shrugged.
“Yeah, probably,” Raine said carefully.
“Ooh, are you doing this experiment with the kids tomorrow? I loved doing this back in the day.” Laney was looking over at the containers of lemon juice, paper towels, pennies and washers used to make a rudimentary battery.
“Yeah, that’s one of my favorite experiments, too.”
Raine walked over to pick up her purse and planner, placed them in her bag and picked up her keys. That was when she noticed Tate’s curious gaze on her. It seemed almost knowing.
“So, Raine. Who’s put this glowy look on your face?” Tate asked her with a pointed glance. “Anyone we might know?” Her brows rose expectantly. Before Raine could respond, Laney interrupted.
“Ooh! You’ve been seeing Miller, haven’t you?” Laney asked her, excitedly.
“What?” Their heads turned sharply in Tate’s direction at her horrified response. As if just now realizing her outburst, she cleared her throat.
“I mean, I just didn’t think you two had any connection or whatever. I thought for sure someone else put that look on your face,” she finished suggestively.
Laney stared at Tate for a moment before turning back to Raine. “So, are you seeing him?” She darted a quick glance back to Tate.
“No, I wouldn’t say that I’m seeing him,” Raine hedged.
“Then what are you saying?” Tate’s question came out sharp and Raine wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Laney was looking over her with a critical eye. Before she could say anything more, a voice called out from the doorway.
“Yeah, Raine. Are you seeing him or what?”
Was it just her or was there a bite to Mac’s tone?
Hiking her bag upon her shoulder, Raine pointed her finger at the three of them. “I’m tired of this interrogation. If I had anything to tell you, I would have. Let’s leave it at that.”
“I’m tired and ready to go home.” She stopped at the doorway where Mac was standing, blocking her exit. He looked down at her with an indecipherable expression on his face before he finally turned and walked back to his own classroom across the hall without another word.
Laney and Tate followed Raine as she exited and locked her classroom door.
“Sorry, Raine. You’re right. I know you’d tell us if something were going on,” Laney apologized.
Tate reached out to squeeze Raine’s hand. “I’m sorry, too, for pushing you.” Her eyes seemed to be trying to communicate something but she wasn’t sure exactly what her friend was trying to tell her.
Raine nodded at them. “I’ll see you two tomorrow, then.” They exchanged goodbyes and Raine made her way out of the building and to her car.
It wasn’t until she was halfway home that she recalled who had been with her at the store when she had purchased that underwear.
Tate.
MAC FELT LIKE punching something. Hard. The conversation he’d overheard from Raine’s doorway was on replay in his mind. She was fine with letting her friends think she was seeing that Miller guy? Because she was ashamed of him? Was that it?
Damn it. What the hell was wrong with him?
He made his way home, glad he had taken the Triumph to work today. He accelerated as he merged onto I-95 to head up to the Fernandina Beach exit, letting the wind ripple against his body to work away at the emotions he felt were nearly choking him. By the time he turned onto Fletcher Avenue, he felt considerably better and didn’t want to overthink why his bike came to stop in Raine’s driveway. Didn’t want to admit to the tiny seed of desperation to see her, to claim her and put Miller out of her mind.
Just as he had raised his ha
nd to ring her doorbell, the door flew open, taking him by surprise. Raine stood there, still in the dress she wore to school, barefoot, hair twisted up with the pencil she used halfway through the day to do so.
“I thought I heard Betsy,” her voice was a touch husky as she looked up at him, moving to the side so that he could enter the house.
Mac stepped inside, placing his helmet on the small table beside the door that also held her keys, hearing her close and lock the door. Turning around, he saw Raine leaning against the door, watching him closely. He moved toward her slowly, reaching down to pull the pencil from her hair and place it on the table, his eyes watching the black waves as they fell down past her shoulders.
Mac slid his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back slightly as he drew her closer. “Do you want to date Miller?”
He saw the surprise wash over her face at his question.
“No,” she answered succinctly.
“Good. Because you’re mine, Raine,” he touched his lips to hers. “He doesn’t get to do this to you. Only me.”
His fingers tightened in her hair, tilting her head to the side so he could trail a line of kisses along her jawline to her earlobe. When he grazed his teeth along her earlobe and heard her gasp, he whispered, “He doesn’t get to do this.” He wrapped his lips around the lobe, sucking it gently into his mouth.
“Or this,” he added as his hand slid up to her breast, thumb tracing over her nipple through her bra, feeling it harden. He leaned his head back to look deeply into her eyes as his thumb stroked over her nipple.
“You’re mine, Raine.”
“For now,” her gentle reminder was swallowed when Mac took her lips in a demanding kiss, trying to wipe away the temporary feel to what they were doing.
For now. For now. For now.
Her words were like a haunting melody in his head.
Because the more that he was with her, the less he wanted it to be temporary.
RAINE WASN’T SURE she had ever been kissed like this before. The way Mac was kissing her was almost like he wanted to possess her. But, just as soon as it had begun, he softened the kiss and trailed his lips down the side of her neck and continued a path over her breast. His mouth stopped at her nipple, protruding through her bra and dress. When his lips latched onto it and his tongue flicked at it through the layers of fabric, she felt her body arch into his.
“Callum,” she cried out.
She simpered when he moved away from her only to gasp when he lifted her up, one of his strong arms around her waist and the other beneath her knees. Mac carried her to her bedroom and placed her on her feet beside the bed. Just as she reached to pull her dress over her head, his hand stopped her.
“Let me,” his voice was low, quiet.
She let her hand drop away and watched as he reached out and smoothed his hands down over her hair, as if mesmerized by it. When he reached for the hem of her dress, she raised her arms and he slowly lifted it up and off her.
Standing there in only her bra and panties, she saw his eyes darken with desire as he gazed at her. His fingertips ran down over her collarbone and barely grazed her breasts before he pulled at the sides of her panties, sliding them down her legs for her to step out of them.
Standing back up, he reached for the clasp at the back of her bra, sliding this down over her shoulders and off her arms. Mac leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead before lifting her up to place her on the bed.
He rid himself of his jacket before making quick work of his button down shirt and dress pants, his socks and shoes getting tossed to the side.
He crawled onto the bed, lying on his side next to her. “You have no idea how breathtaking you are.” Mac ran his fingers down her body.
Moving his body over hers, he kissed her, again. It felt almost like he was trying to tell her something in his kiss. His body pressed against hers, his hard cock settling between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around him, as if trying to get him closer, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Please, Callum,” she begged. She could feel how wet she was for him. How much she needed him inside her.
“Not yet,” was all he said.
What?
No. Just, no. It was time to bring out the big guns.
Raine reached between their bodies, sliding her fingers over her breast, barely grazing her nipple and continued down. She began to lightly circle her clit, finally getting his attention.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he told her before he grasped both her hands in one of his, reaching them up above her head upon the bed.
He grabbed a condom from her table beside her bed and slid it on before guiding the tip of his cock to her entrance. He leaned closer to her, sliding his lips over hers.
“That’s my job to make you come.” He pressed inside her, little by little.
“Well, then quit your stalling, buddy,” her voice was husky with arousal.
Mac pulled out only to slide all the way inside her, pressing deep. He leaned over her, linking his fingers with hers above their heads.
“I can’t get enough of you.” He thrust in and out, and she felt like he was going impossibly deep. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough.”
As she tightened her legs around him, she heard him groan, her actions making him sink even further inside, her wet heat surrounding him.
He set an even rhythm, thrusting deep until her moans became louder. When she cried out his name, his thrusts became more frantic. Mac reached between their bodies to rub his thumb over her clit and she felt herself tighten around him. Her body arched against his and her inner muscles clenched around him in the throes of her orgasm. Mac followed her over the edge after two more thrusts before collapsing on top of her.
His mouth grazed the sensitive flesh over her ear, making her shiver as a tiny sigh escaped her lips. He lifted his weight off of her, bracing himself on his forearms, and looked down at her before touching his forehead to hers for a brief moment.
Mac raised his head to give her what had to be the softest, sweetest kiss she’d ever had before leaving to go take care of the condom, leaving Raine’s mind to replay his words from earlier.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough.”
The scary part of that wasn’t hearing him say it. The scary part was she wasn’t so sure she’d get enough of him, either.
Ever.
EVER SINCE THAT Thursday when Mac had shown up at her house after what she now referred to as “The Interrogation,” things had been different between them. Not necessarily in a bad way, though.
He was still the same old Mac who would be her wingman when they went out with everyone on karaoke Saturdays, the one who would let her legs drape over his when they got together to watch a movie, the same Mac who was her favorite running partner.
But for the Mac who was her secret fling partner? He had become far more attentive and almost . . . sweet. Like as in boyfriend-sweet. The way he kissed her had seemed to change to a more intimate kiss. Sure, the sex was still deliciously hot but there was an underlying current in it that she just couldn’t place.
“You ready for this?” Mac’s question came as she was getting her sticker ready to affix to the back of her shirt for their half-marathon.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
This race was one of her favorites since all of the race entry fees paid would go straight toward breast cancer research and to provide financial assistance for those fighting breast cancer. But it was also an emotional one for Raine. The large sticker many runners placed on their backs would list who they were running for. Raine’s listed that she was running in memory of her mother . . . and for herself.
Mac held out his hand for her to give him the sticker. After handing it to him, she turned away and he carefully peeled the sticker from the backing to place it on the back of her tank top. Mac pressed the edges and made sure it was secured.
“All set.”
She turned to face him and thanked him.
> “What do you say we get a selfie before we’re all sweaty?” He asked her, his smile showing off that dimple, as he wiggled his phone in his hand.
“Absolutely,” she agreed. “I always have the worst race photos, anyway. They manage to capture me when I look like I’m about to collapse or making a weird face,” she shuddered.
Mac laughed at her. “Then get over here,” his arm tugged her around the shoulders to pull her in closer.
“Ready?” he held the camera out in front of them.
“Ready.”
He took a few pictures and just when she thought they were done, he turned to her. “One more of us, okay?” his voice had dropped, his tone husky.
Before she could respond, he took the arm that had been around her shoulders and cupped the back of her head, bringing her in for a kiss. The kiss wasn’t over the top or inappropriate for where they were. It was sweet, as if he were trying to tell her something.
When he released her, she stared at him for a moment. Her mouth opened to speak but she was interrupted.
“Hey, guys!” Laney’s voice called out to them. Her friends were all walking up to them since they were still in the zone where spectators were permitted. Watching as her friends all walked toward them wearing -wait, good God, what were they wearing?
“Oh, my gosh,” Raine choked on a laugh.
Turning to Mac, she asked him, “Did you know about this?”
“God, no.” His voice sounded strained as if it were a cross between amusement and disbelief.
All of their friends wore shirts with running stick figures on the front with photo cutouts of their faces pasted on the figures. Above that were the bold print words, “GO TEAM RAIMAC!”
Raine nearly laughed as she noticed Lawson who was clearly dragging since they had driven down from Fernandina to Ponte Vedra Beach and battled all the race day traffic to come and cheer her and Mac on.
Lawson had a ball cap drawn down over his face, dark sunglasses and was carrying a large coffee -something Lawson never drank. The biggest clue that he was still half asleep at six fifteen in the morning? The fact that he had yet to speak.