Mac looks down at her watch, squinting just a bit to see the numbers. Her brow furrows, and there’s no telling what is going on inside that magnificent, albeit drunk mind of hers.
She sits up straight on my lap suddenly with a look of supreme confidence and looks over at her bestie. “Hey Macy... I just used the word ‘plethora’ in my mind.”
Macy takes a sip of her vodka tonic and shoots me a grin, before turning back to Mac. “That’s great, Mac. But so what?” She turns back to me and gives me a wink, thoroughly enjoying Mac’s drunken rant.
“W-e-e-e-e-ll,” Mac says slowly, as if she’s talking to a first grader. “I’m obviously not that drunk if I can use big words in my head. Thus, I deserve another Slippery Nipple.”
I start laughing, because fuck, she’s entertaining when she’s drunk. I mean, she’s pretty funny when she’s sober but that’s because she’s got the sharpest of wits. It says something that she can still bring it even while inebriated.
I wrap my arms around her waist and lean in to kiss her neck. “It’s arguments like that that will make you a legal star. I’m convinced. I’ll go get you another Slippery Nipple.”
Pushing Mac off my lap, I head to the bar for another round of drinks for her and Macy, plus a bottled water for myself. The way Mac is going, I may be holding her hair above the toilet tonight so it’s best if I stay sober.
While I wait for my drinks, I glance back over at the table. Mac and Macy have their heads close together, both talking about something girlie and secretive I’m sure. Mac’s eyes are sparkling and her smile is at mega wattage. I wonder what they’re talking about and wonder if it has to do with me.
Probably… they waited until I left the table to get all cozy in their conversation.
The bartender brings me the drinks and I pay for them. As I walk back toward the table, Mac’s head turns my way and she gives me a smile that says, Yes, I’m drunk, but I’m so happy to see you right now, you’ve been gone from me far too long, and I think the sun rises and sets on you, Matt Connover.
Okay, maybe I’m reading too much into it but damn… her smile can practically punch the oxygen right out of my lungs.
Setting the drinks on the table, I pull Mac up from the chair by her arm, sit down, and then drag her back down on to my lap. As long as she keeps her wiggling to a minimum, I should be good. Besides, I find I like having her this close to me.
***
After that last Slippery Nipple, I convince Mac to go home. Actually, I don’t so much as convince her as Macy does, who called it a night saying she was tired and wanted to get to sleep. So I pack Mac and Macy into a cab and we head to their apartment.
When we step inside, I tell Macy goodnight and lead Mac back into her bedroom. She gives Macy a little wave and sort of stumbles along behind me.
I pull her inside and shut the door. When I turn around, Mac is right there, having much more coordination than I gave her credit for because her hands grab ahold of my belt buckle and she tries to take it off. The look on her face is absolutely priceless… her brow furrowed in concentration, her tongue peeking out of the side of her mouth as she squints at her task.
Putting my hands over hers, I tell her, “No way, baby. You’re too drunk.”
She makes a pffft sound and tries to bat my hands away. “But honey… I want it.”
God, she’s fucking adorable. I pull her into my arms and hug her, kissing the top of her head. Mac immediately melts into me, laying her cheek on my chest and sighing in abandonment.
“You can have it,” I tell her conspiratorially. “Tomorrow… when you’re sober. So for now, go brush your teeth and take some aspirin.”
I release her from my hold and turn her toward the bathroom. She wobbles to the side a bit but then pulls herself straight. Giving her a tiny push, I get her going, watching her carefully to make sure she’s okay. She walks into the bathroom and leaves the door open, which is good. I can keep an eye on her.
Removing my clothes, I watch as Mac takes some Tylenol and brushes her teeth. As she starts to take her clothes off, I’m reasonably assured she’s not going to fall over or start puking her guts up, so I crawl in to bed, pulling the sheets up over my hips.
When Mac comes out of the bathroom, stunningly naked but still stumbling slightly, I can’t help but grin at her. She puts the tip of her finger in her mouth and lets her eyes roam over me as she walks to the bed. As she stands there, looking down at me, I wish with a passion that she wasn’t drunk because I can’t help it… the sight of her gloriously naked body does things to me. Her breasts are perfectly rounded, lush with nipples peaked and begging for my tongue. I so want my mouth on them, and I suppress a groan.
Mac crawls over my body, and I grit my teeth when she brushes against my hardening dick. She giggles and then collapses beside me on the bed, trying to scoot her way under the covers.
When she gets situated, she lays her head on my chest and I pull her in close. She pushes her leg in between mine and wraps her arm around me. Our embrace is sweet and comforting, yet the feel of her naked skin and heavy breasts makes me horny. It’s an odd feeling, but I love that Mac can turn me on even in all her drunken glory.
Reaching my free arm out, I turn off the table lamp beside me, plunging the room into darkness. I concentrate on the sound of Mac’s breathing, wanting to ensure she falls asleep and isn’t going to get sick. While I don’t mind helping her out and will gladly hold her while she throws up, I’m a heavy sleeper and if I go down before she does, there’s a chance I’d sleep through it.
And… Mac is stubborn enough, even when she’s drunk, that she wouldn’t ask for my help.
Her breathing is light, but I know it won’t be long before she succumbs.
“Hey, Matt?” she says loudly. Actually, she’s trying for a whisper but it’s about the closest thing to a whisper-scream I’ve ever heard.
“Yeah?” I ask as I grin in the dark at her.
“I think I love you.”
A sizzle of surprise, a flash of adrenaline, a cramping squeeze to my chest, and a feeling of lightheadedness hit me all at once. She fucking threw out the “L” word, and it does something to me.
Not sure what, but that was a completely visceral reaction to those words.
I don’t know what to say in response, so I just squeeze her so she knows I heard her.
“I’ll probably regret saying that tomorrow,” she says matter-of-factly, “but I just had to say it.”
The cynic in me… the one who refuses to trust and hasn’t given credence to the concept of love in a very long time says, “You won’t remember it tomorrow, Mac.”
It’s so dark in the room that I can’t see much but the vague outline of her body on the bed next to me. I can’t see her face at all, but for some reason… I just know… I can feel rather, that she’s smiling in a patient way.
“Yes, I will. I may not remember telling you, but I will remember I love you. That’s just not something I can forget.”
Fuck… that same sizzle-flash-squeeze feeling courses through me again, and if I had to take a wild-ass guess as to what it was, I might have to give it the name of Euphoria.
Do those words truly please me? And if so, why can’t I just say them back to her?
Nothing comes to mind, so I just lean my head over and glide my lips along her forehead. Like I said, she won’t remember any of this tomorrow. “You’re something else, Mac.”
She doesn’t respond to me but within just a minute or two, her breathing goes deep and I know she’s fallen asleep.
I lay awake for a long time, holding Mac… feeling her heartbeat against mine as we lay together. I can’t deny it… I’m absolutely warmed by her feelings for me. It’s been a long time since someone has cared for me like that, and while I’m convinced I never really missed it after Marissa, I can certainly admit it feels pretty fucking fantastic right now.
Seriously… what do I feel for Mac? Is this love? Is it lust? Is it both, or maybe neit
her? Maybe it’s just a passing fancy and will pale over time.
I hope the latter isn’t true, but I’m prepared if that’s the case.
I’m just not sure that I’m prepared if it’s the former.
Chapter 28
“Dad… when can we go to Coney Island?” Gabe asks as he walks into my home office and grabs ahold of my arm.
Pushing away from the desk, I grab him around the waist and put him on my lap. Leaning my face into his neck, I blow a wet raspberry there that has him shrieking in laughter and trying to propel himself away from me because it tickles.
“Stop it,” he cries through his laughter, lurching left and right as I add some tickling to his ribs.
I finally let him slither off my lap and swat him on his butt. “I told you we’re waiting for Mac to get here, and then we’ll go.”
Gabe puts his index finger in his mouth and stares at me with a shy smile. I had just told him about Mac not long ago, when I got this wild hair up my butt to invite her along, and he looks a bit unsure as to who Mac really is.
I told him this morning, “Gabe… I have a lady friend I’d like to invite with us to go to Coney Island today. Is that okay?”
He stared at me with those golden-brown eyes and asked, “You mean a friend like Anthony?”
I cringed inside, because Mac was so not like Marissa’s young fuck toy. Well, maybe at first, she was… but she’s not now.
“No… my friend… Mac, she’s just a very good friend that I like spending time with and I’d like you to meet her. Is that cool?”
“Will she stay the night like Anthony does?”
“No,” I say quickly. “She’s not that type of friend.”
God, it was so fucking confusing… explaining Mac to my son, because she was that “type of friend”. I just didn’t want him to know that yet.
“She’ll just go to Coney Island today with us, but then she’ll go home. But if you like her, we can invite her some other time to hang with us. How’s that sound?”
Gabe grinned and nodded. I prayed silently, Please let him like her. If he doesn’t like her, I don’t know what I’ll do. Well, yeah… I do. It means I’d have to cut Mac loose, but not before I wouldn’t try desperately to get Gabe to like her.
This was all so spur of the moment. I hoped to God I was doing the right thing by having her meet him this early on. This had so much potential to blow up in my face, but it just seemed like the right thing to do at this time.
Just yesterday, as the workweek was closing down, I walked into Mac’s office. We had plans to go out to dinner, but Marissa called me around four PM to tell me she wanted to take an impromptu trip out of town with Anthony. I guess the make-up sex must be really good at this point.
She asked if I’d mind taking Gabe for the weekend. Of course, I had to clarify with her what exactly she meant. “Do I still get my regular time with him next weekend?” I asked.
“Yes,” she snapped at me. “Will that make you happy?”
“Immeasurably,” I assured her, because… two weekends in a row with Gabe? Fucking major win in my book!
The only downside was that I would have to cancel plans with Mac for the weekend. So, I knocked on her office door, and she looked up at me with a smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I said softly and then walked up to her for a kiss.
“You about ready to get the weekend started?” she asked as she pulled her lips away, wearing that starry-eyed look I’ve come to recognize after I kiss her.
“Actually… I’m going to have to cancel,” I told her reluctantly. Because, yes… I was damn reluctant to do it, because although I love spending time with Gabe, and he would always come first, I was going to miss the hell out of Mac. “Marissa asked if I could take Gabe this weekend, so I’m going to have to go pick him up.”
Mac… being Mac… which means understanding, wonderful, kind, fucking hot as hell, best blow job giver ever, and just a generally perfect woman, said, “That’s awesome. I mean… that you get Gabe… not that we can’t go out this weekend, but we can do that any time. Your times with Gabe are too few and precious.”
I know I just stared at her for a moment… blank and confused, because honestly, for a brief moment, I sort of expected her to throw a fit. Or at the least make me feel guilty. Because, that’s sure as shit something Marissa would do.
But not Mac.
Never Mac.
She gave me a hug, then a sweet kiss, and told me that she’d see me at work next Monday. Told me to have a great time with Gabe.
She didn’t even ask me to call her. Just told me, and I quote, “You spend every waking minute loving on that boy.”
God, my fucking heart cramps in appreciation just now thinking of it, and I’m convinced I’m turning into a pussy.
So, I went and picked Gabe up, we made pizza at my apartment that night, played with his Legos for a while, and then watched a movie. He was zonked out by ten PM, and I put him to bed.
I thought about going to bed myself, but before I knew it, I was calling Mac. We talked for two hours and then had some amazing fucking phone sex that caused me to come spectacularly all over my clean sheets and ensured I’d have more laundry to do in the morning.
And when morning rolled around, I woke up missing Mac like I’d miss a lung, feeling all oxygen deprived and shit, so I called her.
I didn’t weigh out the pros and cons… I didn’t spend too much time thinking of any psychological repercussions—I just did it.
I invited her to go to Coney Island with Gabe and me.
She had asked, “Are you sure, Matt? You want me to meet Gabe?”
I never thought twice about it. “Absolutely.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” she said, still a bit hesitantly. “I’d really love to meet him. And I really miss you, so bonus!”
I laughed, hung up, and then I went to find Gabe to explain Mac to him.
The doorbell rings, jarring me out of my reflection. My pulse starts hammering because that would be Mac and I’m nervous about her meeting Gabe, but I’m fucking excited as hell to see her. I hope to God I don’t pop wood the minute I lay my eyes on her, which has been known to randomly happen when she’s in the immediate vicinity.
“Hey buddy… how about going to let Mac in so I can finish just one more thing? I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay,” he says, turning to run out of my office.
“Gabe?” I call out, and he turns to look at me. “Be nice.”
He flashes me another grin and then bolts down the hallway. I really don’t have anything to finish up, but I wanted to give Mac some alone time with Gabe. I imagine she’s got to be pretty nervous and doesn’t need me overlooking their introduction. Besides, Gabe is so outgoing, he’ll have no problem entertaining her all on his own.
I log off my computer and sit back in my chair, listening to their conversation.
It’s fucking awesome. Gabe immediately takes her into the living room and talks her into playing Wii bowling with him.
“I’m really good,” I hear him brag to Mac. “I beat Dad all the time, and I’ll probably beat you.”
I listen as Gabe chatters away at Mac, trying to explain the game to her. She talks to him like a natural, bringing it down to a seven-year-old level, but also understanding that he’s bright and mature for his age, so she doesn’t treat him like a baby.
I hear Gabe yell out, “In your face, Mac,” and I can’t help the laugh that pops out of my mouth. I can hear Mac laugh too, and it’s such a beautiful sound that my smile doesn’t melt away.
After about twenty minutes, I get up and walk into the living room, where I’m treated to a phenomenal view of Mac as she bends over slightly, aiming up her bowling shot. Luckily, I do not pop wood but fuck, she has an amazing ass that I cannot wait to tap one day.
“Poor form, Mac,” I tease her, trying to keep the huskiness out of my voice so Gabe doesn’t pick up on any vibes. “I think you need to bend ov
er a little more.”
She shoots me a smirk over her shoulder, and then turns back to the TV. “Behave yourself.”
I hop over the back of the couch and sit down, one arm resting over the back, and cross my legs. I then watch as Gabe totally smokes Mac and then mocks her with a little victory dance. And yes, he actually learned that move from me when I beat him at Candy Land once… I got up and danced around the table, yelling, “In your face,” to him. But damn… the kid always beats me and I was not about to let that victory go to waste.
Mac hands the Wii controller to my son with a laugh. “You are just too good, Gabe. I’ll never be able to beat you.”
Gabe looks pleased as punch from the compliment, and then turns to me. “Want to play?”
Reaching out, I ruffle his hair. “Maybe later, buddy. Let’s get ready to head out to Coney Island. Go get your shoes on.”
Gabe leaps up and yells, “Hooray,” before he takes off running to his room.
I watch Gabe’s retreating form before turning to Mac, crooking my finger at her. “Get over here and give me a proper hello.”
She gives me a sexy smile and then she’s in my lap, letting me kiss her. While I have a brief moment of privacy, I make the kiss scorching hot before I pull away.
“So, what do you think of Gabe?”
“He’s wonderful,” she says with genuine affection. Then she about kills me when she says, “He’s you.”
Mac sees a lot of things, and I respect her because of her perception. But that she sees my son in the same vein she sees me… that she thinks my son is like me… well, in this moment, I think I may truly love Mac. Our eyes hold one another and something passes between us… an understanding maybe.
Gabe comes flying back into the room, and because kids have no concept of personal space, the moment is broken as he launches himself right at Mac and me
“I need you to tie my shoes, Dad,” he says after smacking hard into my ribs and landing an elbow against Mac’s shoulder.
“Nope. You know how to do it,” I tell him firmly.
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