God, have I ever.
I lost the woman I thought was the love of my life. I lost her for absolutely no-good fucking reason other than the fact she was selfish, cruel, and without conscience. It was a loss that may not have been quite the same as death, but for the way my shredded heart felt, I think I felt it just as keenly as what Mac is feeling right now. It may not be the same type of love, but I felt its loss deep in my soul. It’s the exact pain I am trying to avoid by never getting that lost to someone again.
By never succumbing to the concept of infinite love and commitment. It’s a fallacy… a perversion to my senses. It has no place in my life ever again.
I know, however, Mac is not asking about that. She’s talking about true death, so I answer her, “My grandfather… on my dad’s side. About three years ago.”
“Were you close?”
“Not really, but only because he and my grandmother live down in southern Florida. We just didn’t see them very often.”
Mac doesn’t make any comment about it, preferring to walk along in silence. I find myself curious though. “I’m assuming you don’t have any siblings?”
“I’m an only child. I have a few cousins, but they all live out in California.”
“So, no other family then in this area?”
“Nope. All alone.”
The sun is warm, and the grass is green. It’s a beautiful day, and it feels like we left the heaviness of despair far behind us.
“So what about you?” Mac asks curiously. “What’s your family situation?”
Every instinct in me screams at me to lie to her. To tell her I don’t have any and leave it at that. But I can’t. It’s not fair to feed her falsehoods in any circumstance, but not particularly when she has suffered the way she has.
“My mom and dad live in Pennsylvania, where we’re from originally. Just outside of Philadelphia. My mom’s parents are there as well, and my other grandmother is still down in Florida.”
I sneak a look down at Mac’s face, and she’s smiling softly. “So you’re an only child too?”
“That I am,” I confirm.
We walk along in silence for a bit more, Mac turning us back around to head to the hospital where we can get a cab back to the hotel so I can get my suitcase. “Thanks for the walk. That was nice, and I needed that.”
I open my mouth to say, “Your Welcome,” but instead I say, “I have a son.”
Mac stops and turns to look at me, her head cocked to the side. Her face is soft and open, and she doesn’t appear to be pissed she’s just hearing this.
“His name is Gabe, and he’s seven years old. He’s pretty much the most perfect kid ever, and I know parents are supposed to say that, but it’s fucking true in my case.”
“I know,” Mac says gently. “Cal told me.”
Just the mention of his name and I’m suffused with anger. I’m pissed that Cal told her something personal that was for me to tell her, and I’m pissed that she was in a situation that required a conversation of the magnitude that would reveal I have a child.
I’m just pissed.
But then Mac leans into me, laying her head on my chest. “But I’m so glad you feel comfortable enough with me to share that. It means a lot.”
Well fuck… my fury dissipates as I wrap my arms around Mac and pull her in close. I don’t like her having a friendship with Cal but, in the grand scheme of things… as I stand in Nashville, Tennessee, holding my lover in my arms not even an hour after her mother died in her arms… well, I have to push my shit aside and stand strong for Mac right now.
I can worry about all this other stuff later.
Chapter 19
I’m well aware that there is no such magical thing as a do-over, you having been privy to my thoughts previously on the matter.
But I need something.
I need something because I royally screwed the pooch when I went to Nashville. I broke the biggest rule of all, and that was allowing myself to care for Mac in a way that caused all of my common sense to fly out the window. I cared for her, I opened myself up, and I made myself vulnerable. The worst part is that now Mac is probably going to expect that warm and fuzzy Matt all the time, and I don’t have that in me to give consistently. That was a one-time only fluke.
I have to do something to fix that.
A reset, perhaps.
Yes, I need to put things back in their rightful order, so I’m hitting the reset button. It’s time to get back to doing what I do best.
And that’s fucking.
I walk up to Mac’s office. Today is her first day back since her mother’s funeral, and I want to say hello. She and I have texted for the past few days while she was in Tennessee, but I’ve carefully avoided having an actual phone conversation.
Looking in, she’s sitting at her desk, reading a sympathy card signed by all the attorneys and staff, which was with a huge bouquet of stargazer lilies on her desk. I know this because I approved the purchase to Karen yesterday when she suggested doing something for her return.
I wait to be overwhelmed with a mirage of conflicting feelings regarding Mac, especially since I crossed so many boundaries I had imposed on myself already. She sits there, so visually stunning and very desirable.
Also vulnerable and sad.
And as expected, I’m hit from all angles. I’m flooded with lust, my mind already playing out all the inappropriate things I want to do with her, and my heart is happy to see her again even though my brain is shaking its head saying “You stupid motherfucker”. I decide to push my heart to the rear and listen to my brain and my dick.
“Welcome back,” I tell her from her doorway as I hold onto the doorframe with both hands and lean in.
Mac turns her head toward me, and I see her hastily blink back tears.
“Hey,” she says, giving me a friendly smile.
I stare at her hard, trying to figure out what’s going through her mind right now. Is she going to hold me to some impossible standard that I inadvertently set by my actions in Nashville?
Unfortunately, she gives nothing away, and it’s one of the reasons she’ll be a great litigator. Instead, her face looks at me with open curiosity for my visit.
“So… everything okay? Sure you’re ready to be back to work already?” I ask her hesitantly, trying to open the door to some generic conversation. Since her face isn’t giving anything away, maybe her words will.
“I’m sure,” she says with absolute conviction.
Hmmm. That told me absolutely nothing. Maybe I need to bait her a little… see if I can offend her sensibilities. I’m sure she is expecting something from me… something beyond an orgasm.
“Good,” I say aloofly. “There’s a new case I just assigned to you… You’ll see an email about it. Review it, and you’ll be handling the depositions next month.”
“Oh-kay,” she says in confusion, and now I’m starting to get somewhere. She is indeed expecting something more than what I would have normally given her before.
I engage in a bit of a staring war with her, having to literally force myself not to ask her how she’s feeling. I may be acting like a cold bastard to her right now, but deep down… I really want to know she’s okay. I’m just going to have to assume she is, so I can go through with my plan to hit the reset button. I must maintain my “aloof asshole mode”, which really should be my only mode from here on out.
When I can see the confusion on her face start to melt into sadness, it spurs me into action. Looking left and right down the hallway to make sure no one is coming, I lean into her office further and speak quietly so no one can hear. “Can I see you tonight?”
“Yes,” she says as relief washes over her face, which, in turn, causes relief to gush through my entire body. While I thought she would still want me, I was sort of prepared for her to push me away when she realized that we were going back to status quo.
“What do you want me to bring to eat?” I ask her, although I know without a doubt what I want to
eat. More than once.
“Surprise me,” she says playfully.
I give her a wink, nod my head, then I turn around and walk away.
***
Operation Reset is in full swing, and it’s going fucking fantastic as far as I can tell. Every night this week, I’ve gone to Mac’s apartment with food after work. We eat… talk about a little of this, a little of that. Nothing really heavy.
After we clean up, we fuck like animals. Sometimes, I leave after just one round, and this is part of a calculated plan. I’ll cuddle with her just a tiny bit, until I can get my heart rate under control and feeling back in my legs. Then I’ll give her some excuse like an early morning meeting I have to prepare for, which necessitates my having to leave. The calculated part is that I want her to start understanding and accepting that I had to go back to the safer place of sex-only with no emotional ties.
Other times, I may lay with her in the bed for quite a while, talking or watching TV. This is not part of a calculated plan and occurs because it’s something I subconsciously want. I try to make myself pull away, running various excuses through my head. But on those occasions, I don’t listen to my common sense and stay in her arms because, damn it, if feels shamefully good. We will usually fuck at least once or twice more, but it’s done at a leisurely pace and with no regard for time. On those occasions, I won’t leave her place until usually two or three in the morning.
The only kink in the calculated portion of the plan was the first night Mac was back. She tried to get warm and fuzzy with me, but I shut that shit down quickly.
We had been frantic when we went at each other since it had been several days since we had sex. We were practically clawing each other in need and her headboard was hitting the wall so hard, I know people in the apartment next to us had to have been pissed. When we were done, we lay on our backs, gasping for breath, and I was already thinking of hitting it again, when she rolled over to face me.
“I wanted to thank you again for coming to Nashville. That really meant a lot to me,” she said softly.
I didn’t roll over to look at her, but just angled my head slightly her way. “It was no biggie,” I said distantly.
“It was a big deal,” she said with so much gratitude that it made me cringe. “It changes things… don’t you think?”
No, Mac… it changes nothing, is what I wanted to tell her, but I didn’t have it in me to see hurt fill her eyes. She’d had enough of that recently.
Instead, I rolled over on top of her and kissed her deeply, pushing my hand between her legs. I kissed her to distraction, and then I said, “I have a better idea—less talk and more action.”
Since then, Mac hasn’t tried once to get me to engage in anything more than witty banter or maybe some shop talk.
The formula seems to be working. Eat, fuck, and leave.
When it is time to depart, I usually wait until Mac falls asleep and quietly make my exit. I always lean over and kiss her forehead, which is a fucking weakness… I get it. But she’s sleeping and doesn’t know I’m doing it, so no harm, no foul.
Even though I’ve come to love staying in bed all night with Mac, I don’t allow myself to do it because I have to make sure that my message stays clear to her. That this is all it’s ever going to be. The longer we can go on like this… developing this habit, the better it will be for all involved.
I knock on her door on this, her fifth night back, and wait patiently for her to open it. We decided to order pizza tonight so I thought I’d have her as an appetizer first, which ensures I have a semi when she opens the door.
Immediately, I know something is off, and I’d have to say it’s because her face looks grim. “We need to talk,” she says quietly.
Yeah, that’s not going to work with me, not when I’ve just been fantasizing about my tongue between her legs. I step inside and walk right up to her, causing her to tilt her head back to look at me. I hook the tips of my fingers in the waistband of the white shorts she’s wearing and give a quick jerk, causing her body to fall into mine. I love the feel of her softness against me, and my semi goes completely hard.
Leaning down, I place my lips lightly on her neck and give her a tiny lick. “Talk later… I want you too much right now.”
She immediately sags into me, and I start to wrap my arms around her. I have so many depraved things I want to do. But then she puts her hands up onto my chest and gives me a slight push back.
Looking down at her in surprise, I see that grim determination on her face again.
“No. Talk now. Sex later.” Her eyes flash with challenge and dare me to refuse.
There are so many ways I could handle this scenario. I could capitulate and let her talk my ear off. I have a feeling she wants to discuss our “relationship”. Or I could distract her, because I know there are certain spots on her body I can touch, and she won’t be able string two words together.
Hmmm. Which way do I want to go?
“I tell you what,” I say with deliberation. “If you can carry on a rational conversation with me for just thirty seconds while I try to seduce you, I’ll give you my undivided attention for the next two hours. You can talk until you’re blue in the face. Deal?”
Mac is so transparent sometimes, especially when sex is involved. Her eyes flare hot with the idea of me seducing her but also reflect challenge back at me. She doesn’t like to lose, and I knew that would make my offer irresistible to her.
She only hesitates for a moment before she says, “Deal.”
If Mac was expecting some time to acclimate to the challenge, she has another thing coming. I go in for the kill right away, lunging at her. I pick her up around her waist, walk three paces to the couch and toss her down… albeit, a bit roughly. Her face registers shock as she bounces, but I don’t spare it another glance. I’m already ripping her shorts and her underwear off.
Sadly, I’m going to leave her breasts covered, because thirty seconds is not long and I need to put on my most skilled moves if I’m going to avert a two-hour blah, blah, blah session.
I put my hand on her chest and push her back, then spread her legs wide. Leaning over, I look down at my target for just a moment, all glistening and pink just for me, and then raise my eyes to Mac briefly. She’s still wearing that same stunned expression that within ten seconds, I had her stripped and splayed before me.
“Come on, Mac,” I taunt her. “You have about twenty seconds left to carry on a conversation. Let’s make it easy. Tell me about your favorite movie.”
I don’t spare her another glance though, opening my mouth and covering her pussy. I give just a quick swipe up her center with my tongue but then I wrap my lips around her clit and start sucking… hard. As an afterthought, I push my thumb inside of her, gently massaging, but it’s my lips and tongue that are the distractions here. Mac’s hips buck hard against me, almost knocking me loose. I just growl my displeasure against her clit, flutter my tongue against it for good measure, and then start sucking again on her.
She cries out in such a way that tells me that she’s loving this. She may be losing the challenge, but she is immensely turned on by what I’m doing to her. But hell, so am I. My dick is aching to get inside of her.
Mac is so responsive to me that I’m afraid she may come almost instantaneously and manage to get a few words out of her mouth afterward, so I ease up on her clit just a bit, licking gently for a few moments, just to get her down a bit, but not enough to allow rational thought back in her head.
When I’m confident that the thirty seconds has expired, I renew my attack on her, tonguing her almost viciously, until she explodes in my mouth.
It is so fucking hot that I can’t control myself. Before Mac can even recover, I pull her limp body up and half carry, half walk her around the back of the couch. I push her chest forward over the back, and keep pushing until her face is almost touching the cushions and she’s on the very tips of her toes with her ass tipped up beautifully to me.
Fuck, sh
e has a gorgeous ass. It’s not the first time I’ve had an overwhelming urge to take her there, but there’s no way that’s happening right now. Hell, it hasn’t happened yet because we are always going at it so fast and hard, and sorry… but any guy worth his fucking salt knows you have to work gently into those things.
Maybe one day, but it isn’t today.
I pop my button and unzip my fly, pulling my engorged cock out and rubbing it between her folds, relishing how slick she is.
Then I slam into her, all the way, no warning, and she cries out and I have to stifle my groan.
I fuck her mercilessly, pumping into her so hard that my balls hurt a little from the way they’re slapping against her. But I dig the pleasure-pain principle so I don’t let up.
Pounding in Mac while she hangs practically upside down on the couch makes me feel powerful, and alive, and I’m reminded why Matt Fucking Connover is the way he is.
This is the only fucking way to live life, and I hope I’m fucking some sense into her because if she’s honest, she’ll admit this is a pretty damn good way to live.
My orgasm slams through me so hard, that I can’t help the words that pour out of me in sync to the way I’m shooting inside of her. “Mac… Mac… Mac…”
When I’m drained and with my chest still heaving, I pull back and slip out of her, reaching forward to pull her back up. When she gets her legs underneath of her, I start to turn her in my arms for a gentle kiss.
Instead, she practically shrieks at me, slapping my arms away. “I can’t do this anymore, Matt.”
I can’t help but smile at her. She looks magnificent with her hair wild, her neck red from an explosive orgasm, and anger sparking hot in her eyes.
Makes me want to fuck her again.
“Yes, you can,” I gloat. “Want me to prove it to you right now?”
“No,” she says, her voice now back under control and sounding fatigued. “I’m tired of being controlled by you sexually. I’m tired of this… this… I don’t even know what this is, but I’m tired of it.”
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