19. MJ
MJ
F ireworks. Overhead. In my head. Everywhere. Because I’m having sex with Mac! On the Fourth of July!
The tent he set up for us was so thoughtful, filled with cozy sleeping bags and blankets and some of our favorite books.
But the roof is where his genius shines.
I look up again as the pop of fireworks slows, then look back down at Mac.
His molten eyes meet mine, and I tighten my pussy around his cock.
He hisses, closes his eyes, and then moves slowly.
Leaning over me, I’m cocooned between his muscular arms, feeling safe.
I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist, making him fill me even deeper and making sure we’re as close as possible.
I’m pretty sure he bottomed out and I feel so deliciously full.
Mac is unlike any guy I’ve been with—more in every way. I’m loving every minute.
Mac works his hips, thrusting in and out, and I close my eyes. An incoherent string of jumbled words escapes my lips. “Big. Good. Oh, my god.”
My eyes roll into the back of my head as Mac leans down, pressing his lips to mine.
We’re connected in so many ways right now, and it is absolutely perfect.
I’ve had sex. I’ve fucked. But this is something more.
He continues pumping his hips, sliding a hand down to my clit .
The sensations are almost too much and my hips buck into him.
“Mac, I’m gonna . . .” I trail off.
“Come for me,” he commands. My walls flutter around his cock and warmth starts in my lower belly and then blooms throughout my body. The feeling takes over entirely, and I let go, my body tensing and shuddering beneath him. “Yes, good girl. I’m right there too.”
Knowing he’s close prolongs my orgasm and then he pushes into me and stills above me.
I feel his cock pulsing as he spills inside of me, and I moan.
He leans down, our chests sweaty and sliding against each other as he kisses me deeply.
I let my legs drop from his waist onto the air mattress, feeling boneless.
We break the kiss, his cock still inside of me but growing soft. “That was—”
Mac nods. “Yeah, it was.”
We smile at each other and then he leans back up, sliding out of me with a groan.
He gets off the mattress and grabs a small towel from his bag.
His eyes are soft as he looks at me and then returns to the mattress.
My legs remain spread, and usually I would feel self-conscious, but I don’t when I’m with Mac.
Instead, a feeling of rightness fills my body.
It feels right to be vulnerable with him.
Mac runs the towel over my thighs and pussy, cleaning me then wiping his cock which now hangs heavy between his legs.
He gets up, shoving the towel into a ball and into his bag and pulls out boxer briefs.
I get up off the air mattress and head to my own overnight bag, gr abbing my pajamas and shimmying them on.
Mac hands me a flashlight and I head out to the porta potty my parents had installed out here a few years ago. When I return, the smell of Mac and sex hits my nose, and I can’t contain the grin that spreads across my face. I slip inside and zip the tent door closed behind me still smiling.
“What’s that smile for?” Mac asks, a smile on his face too.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, crawling up next to him and resting my head on his chest. “Just smells like sex in here,” I whisper.
Mac barks out a laugh as I get the giggles.
We laugh together for a few minutes, trying to catch our breath and calm down, but every time we do one of us breaks and laughs again.
Finally, I take a deep breath and am able to calm myself.
Looking around the tent I notice there’s more books here than I realized, and Mac already has one on the mattress next to him.
“Want me to read to you like old times?” he asks. I nod, snuggling into him.
July 5
A soft golden glow fills the tent from the open roof overhead as the smell of pine and creek water dances through the breeze.
I sigh contentedly, looking over at Mac.
A smirk tickles my lips when my eyes land on his face, his head propped up on his elbow and looking down at me.
“Were you watching me sleep?” I mumble through a yawn.
He smirks back and his eyes sparkle with playfulness. “Maybe.”
I stretch my arms above my head, murmuring, “Weirdo.” I bounce around as I roll over onto my side to face him properly. Mac reaches up and brushes a few loose strands of hair from my face. Internally, I groan; my hair is a rat’s nest thanks to swimming and not showering or brushing it out.
I don’t have time to think about that, though, because Mac is leaning down and pressing his lips against mine in the sweetest kiss. I lean up into him, chasing the contact as he pulls away.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispers.
“Good morning. How did you sleep?”
Mac groans, stretching his legs out. “I loved sleeping next to you, but we are not sixteen anymore, are we?” I giggle and shake my head, also feeling tight and sore from sleeping on an air mattress all night.
I revel in part of the soreness, as it’s from the multiple orgasms from Mac.
We read last night, but not for more than a chapter before we were touching and kissing each other, leading to rounds two and three.
Mac kisses the top of my head, and I snuggle down into him. “I want to tell you something,” Mac says, barely above a whisper.
I pull away from his chest, sitting up with my legs tucked to the side. He follows suit, sitting across from me, and I try to read his face. Fuck, he looks nervous. He’s changed his mind, hasn’t he?
As if reading my mind, he leans t oward me and cups my face with both hands. “Shhh, I can hear the wheels turning in your head, baby. It’s not a bad thing.”
I shake my head. “Okay, what is it?”
I’m not convinced yet because I’ve never seen Mac look this nervous. We sit in silence for what feels like a decade. I worry my lip between my teeth. Mac can’t look me in the eye. What the hell is going on ?
Mac wipes his hand down his face, and I hear him mumbling. “Fuck, I didn’t think this would be that hard. Maybe . . .” I sit up, not saying anything and giving him space. He continues, “Maybe I can show you?”
Show me? I nod, the butterflies in my stomach preparing for a gymnastics routine.
Mac climbs off the air mattress, sending me bouncing around like I’m adrift on a boat. Regaining my balance, I sit and watch as he rummages through his bag, pulling out book after book. There was already a handful on the floor. Another one on the mattress from last night.
He opens each one, finding a specific page, maybe? He lays them down on the tent floor. Taking a seat in the middle of the floor, he looks over at me and then nods. I take the cue and bounce my way off the air mattress, sitting down across from him.
“Mac, what is all this?” I ask.
Silently, he picks up a book and hands it to me.
I take it from him, seeing his handwriting intertwined with mine across the pages.
In fact, looking at the other books he’s laid out, they all have writing in them.
Some have tabs that I usually use when I annotate sticki ng out the sides, but others are just filled with his handwriting.
I look down at the book he handed me and read the highlighted text. It’s a beautiful proclamation of love in one of our favorite fantasy series. The male main protagonist swearing to the main female character he will find her, even if it takes chasing her to the ends of the earth.
Shaking my head, I hand the book back to Mac.
He exchanges it for another, and I inspect it.
It’s a romantic comedy. I forced him to read it, and it’s one of the last books we read together.
The highlighted passage this time is the male main character telling the female main character he can’t get her out of his head and the fake relationship hasn’t been fake for him for a while.
I look up at Mac and he reaches forward, exchanging that book for another.
Another proclamation of love in the highlighted text and I think I’m getting it, but I don’t want to be wrong.
“Mac, what are you trying to tell me?” I ask.
He sighs, sets the book down, and takes my hand in his, squeezing them three times, and I smile. “I’m fucking this up. But MJ, baby, I love you.”
My breath hitches.
He continues, his voice shaky, “I think I’ve loved you for a long time, and maybe was afraid to admit it or afraid to fuck up our friendship—but I love you.”
My nose burns and my vision blurs with tears.
“Hey, baby, don’t cry. Why are you crying? Damn it! I fucked up. MJ, I’m so sorry—”
I drop his hands and tackle him to the ground, burying my face in his shoulder. “You didn’t fuck up. I love you too, honey!” He squeezes my waist and exhales against my neck.
“Oh, thank fuck!” He chuckles and I laugh too.
I pull away from him, wiping my eyes. “Mac, I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since I was seven years old.”
I giggle, admitting that feels good. He laughs with me and then I’m on top of him again, kissing him.
He grabs my hips, pulling me against his pelvis where he’s already growing hard, and he lets out a groan.
I giggle and kiss him more, grinding my hips into his.
I start to pull off my pajama shirt but drop it quickly with a gasp when something hits the tent outside.
“Fuck,” Mac curses.
My heart is racing, and then I hear a deep chuckle belonging to Austin. “Okay, you two, good lord! Breakfast is almost ready.”
We dissolve into laughter, and I slip my shirt over my head. The mood is dead, but I still need to change into my bathing suit, determined to get some more swimming in before Mac has to leave me to go work at the shop.