Chapter 29 Mac
29
MAC
“Boo!” Penny yelled, slapping her hand against the bar top with a playful scowl. “You were totally hovering!”
“Was not, little lady!” Harry shot back with a bark of laughter, fanning out a handful of cards like a magician. “You just weren’t quick enough.”
“Me not quick enough?” Penny raised a brow as she picked up her drink. “Please. I’ve got more agility in one toe than you do in your whole body, Harry. Let’s be honest here.”
She brought the straw to her lips and took a long sip of what was now her sixth drink of the night. When she said she was going to try one of everything, she wasn’t bluffing. She was draining the last of the Let’s Not Be Over—a whiskey sour that had clearly added some extra sass to her already fiery charm.
Harry let out a deep, belly-shaking laugh as he slapped his cards onto the bar top in defeat.
Dudley leaned toward me and murmured, “Who knew a card game could get this competitive?”
I smirked, keeping my eyes on the scene unfolding in front of me. “It’s Penny we’re talking about.”
Dudley nodded knowingly and moved off to the other end of the bar to start closing out tabs.
“I hate to break up this championship round,” I said, stepping closer to where Penny and Harry were locked in a dramatic stare-down. “But we’re closing soon, and Harry, I need you to settle your tab.”
Harry huffed, stalling for dramatic effect before finally relenting. He pulled out his wallet with a sigh, muttering something under his breath about “youthful reflexes” as Penny grinned, victorious.
About two hours earlier, she’d run into my office and returned with a deck of cards. Since then, she and Harry had been in a heated battle of slapjack, drawing in the attention of a few locals and even Dudley, who cheered from the sidelines. It was the kind of spontaneous joy only Penny could bring into a room.
As Harry stood from his stool, he leaned over and pressed a quick, gentlemanly kiss to Penny’s cheek.
“This was fun,” he said, his grin warm. “Should we do it again?”
Penny extended her hand, meeting him with a firm shake. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
After closing the tab, I returned and grabbed a bar towel from my back pocket, wiping down the damp rings the glasses left behind.
“Can I do anything to help?” Penny asked, her voice softer now, but still laced with that bubbly energy.
I glanced around. The bar had emptied, save for a few lingering regulars making their way out. Dudley was almost done settling up the last checks. The music softened to background static, and the steady buzz of conversation had finally quieted.
“You can lock the door,” I said with a smile. “Not much left to do at this point.”
With a sparkle in her eye, Penny hopped down from her stool and dashed to the door. She held it open for the last few guests, sending them off with bright goodbyes and that signature Penny warmth that made people feel like they mattered.
Dudley appeared beside me, dragging his own towel along the bar. “Why don’t I handle clean-up?” he offered. “You should walk her home… or at least take her upstairs.”
I raised a brow. “She’s not that bad.”
“I didn’t mean she was,” Dudley said, glancing in her direction with a knowing smirk. “I meant you should spend the time with her.”
I paused, watching her laugh with the last straggler on their way out. Her hair bounced over her shoulders, those beachy waves swaying as she turned back inside. The soft flush on her cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes, the way she moved like the whole world was still full of magic…
Maybe taking her upstairs—if she was willing—wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Like Dudley said, we could spend time together. Real time. Quiet time. Just… us.
I nodded, tossed the towel on the counter, and clapped Dudley on the shoulder.
“Lock up behind yourself after you’re done.”
Dudley gave a lazy salute and turned, gathering the last few glasses and heading for the back.
Penny came skipping up to the bar, light on her feet and glowing from the whiskey and whatever thrill she’d gotten from absolutely demolishing Harry at slapjack. She stopped short, her gaze playful, curious.
“Now what?”
I leaned my elbows on the bar, keeping my voice easy.
“Want to head upstairs… or should I walk you home?”
I asked like it didn’t matter. Like I’d be fine either way. But it wasn’t true. I wanted her to choose upstairs because walking her home meant goodbye. It meant distance. If I got her upstairs, even just for a while, it would mean time.
Her smile wavered. Not gone—but flickering like a candle in the wind. I could see the conflict in her eyes, the way they danced like she was flipping through every version of what this night could become.
I didn’t say anything else. Didn’t push.
Then, finally, she breathed out, almost like surrender, and said the words that lit me up like a goddamn Christmas tree.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
I tried not to react too quickly, but relief and desire surged through me as I rounded the bar. She met me at the end, her eyes a little softer now, a little more open.
“You want to grab your stuff now or later?” I asked.
“Later,” she said with a smile that made my chest tighten.
I held out my hand, not sure if she’d take it, but I hoped she would.
Her gaze flicked from my hand to my face, searching for something. I didn’t move. Instead, I waited.
Then, with an almost imperceptible breath, she slipped her hand into mine.
For the first time in months, I felt her—slim, warm, familiar. I curled my hand around hers, cradling it, anchoring us both, and led her toward the narrow staircase that spiraled up to my apartment.
Each step felt loud in the silence, and with every beat of my heart pounding in my ears, I reminded myself to stay calm.
This was the first time Penny had been back in my space since that morning.
The morning everything shattered.
Still holding her hand, I opened the apartment door, trying to keep it casual even as my pulse throbbed at the base of my throat.
My apartment looked almost the same as when she left—too much the same. Her shampoo was still in the shower. I was pretty sure one of her hair ties was still wrapped around the lamp switch by the bed. And her sweatshirt? That was tucked in the top drawer of my dresser.
Maybe I should’ve cleaned it all up. Maybe it would’ve been less complicated.
But none of this was part of any plan.
The second we stepped inside, I felt the shift in her body. Her hand tensed beneath mine, a little flicker of hesitation in her fingertips.
I turned us around and shut the door, placing my back against it to give her space to breathe. Penny stood in the middle of the living room, illuminated by a slant of moonlight pouring in through the window.
The soft glow wrapped around her like silver ribbon, tracing the outline of her dress, catching in the waves of her hair. She looked like something out of a dream.
No—my dream.
Angus’s loud and heavy footsteps came casually walking toward us. Penny let a soft smile form on her lips as she crouched down and coaxed him to come closer. His tail wagged fast, and excitement bubbled as he picked up speed and trotted over to her.
I stood back and watched them interact. He’d missed her.
Many mornings were spent while the three of us lay in bed, often Angus between. With his size, he had no business being in my bed, but I found it hard to deny a face like that.
“What are you feeding him?” Penny asked, looking at me with a smirk. “He looks like he’s gained like ten pounds since I last saw him.”
“I’ll have you know, the vet thinks his weight is perfect. Angus panicked a little when I told him we’d have to cut back on his nightly ice cream, but that ended up being a false alarm.”
Penny gasped, and I winked, taking a step closer and patting Angus on the head. “Come on, buddy.” I moved toward the bed to slide the door to my bedroom closed to keep him away.
If I let him, he’d soak up every ounce of Penny, and right now I wanted the time to myself.
Angus huffed and followed with a groan, and once he was settled, I slid the door closed.
Like she was seeing my apartment again for the first time, Penny’s eyes scanned the room slowly. She took in the little dining room table we’d spent nights laughing at, the scuffed floorboards she’d walk across barefoot, the bed we’d been wrapped in time and time again. The blanket was the same. I hadn’t washed it. I couldn’t.
“You didn’t change anything,” she said softly.
“No.” I paused, watching the rise and fall of her chest. “Didn’t want to.”
She looked back at me then, her gaze catching mine like a hook. There was something in her eyes that broke me open a little—recognition, sadness, warmth… maybe even longing.
“It’s weird,” she whispered, “how familiar this all still feels.”
Stepping forward, I closed the space between us, one slow footstep in front of the other.
I reached for her hand again, this time bringing it to my chest so she could feel the way my heart pounded. Her fingers curled slightly over the fabric of my shirt.
“I miss this,” I said, voice low. “I miss you.”
Her eyes shimmered, but she blinked quickly, turning her face slightly as if afraid of being too seen.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “Miss you. Miss us. But I do. Every damn day.”
That undid me.
To know she missed me, to hear those words fall from her lips, was everything I needed.
The playful energy that was downstairs hadn’t followed us up here. It was like being in this space again, together, alone, had spun everything into a tangled web of feelings and truths.
I raised my hand to her jaw, brushing my knuckles across her cheek. Her skin was warm, soft, familiar in a way that made my chest ache.
The shift in the air brought a sense of comfort.
“I’ll take it.”
Her laugh was breathless, a little broken, like she was fighting off the same weight I was.
Then she tilted her head, leaning into my palm.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked, needing to know she was sober enough to make this choice. I felt the shift in our energy, felt the pull like we were tethered by a string that kept getting shorter.
Penny had quite a few drinks, I could tell she was fine, but I needed to make sure.
She smiled softly like she appreciated the fact that I checked in, because I cared about her. I wanted to ensure we were doing this the right way.
“Yes. I want this. I want…you.”
That’s all it took to break the restraint I’d been holding on to out of respect for her, but I couldn’t any longer.
I leaned in and took a split second before I pressed my lips against hers. Slow, deep, reverent. The kind of kiss you give someone when you’re scared—but hope like hell she wanted it, too.
Penny melted against me, her hands finding the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her slightly, just enough for her to rise on her toes.
The tenderness turned to hunger in a matter of seconds. Once you’ve tasted something you thought you’d lost forever, it’s impossible not to want more.
Her fingers slid beneath the collar of my shirt, nails grazing skin. My breath hitched as I guided her backward toward the dining room table, kissing her like she was the only thing that had ever mattered.
Because she was.
We broke apart just long enough for her to whisper, “I don’t want to think tonight.”
I looked her in the eye. “Then don’t. Just feel.”
“I-I don’t know if I’m ready,” she whispered, her eyes flickering between mine—uncertain, vulnerable, beautiful.
I exhaled slowly, leaning in until my forehead touched hers as I caressed her cheek. “I’m here for you, Pen. Whatever you want… whatever you need. Always.”
There wasn’t a part of me that wanted to pressure her. I’d already broken her trust once. And if I’d learned anything, it was that real intimacy was so much more than physical. It was emotional. It was trust rebuilt. It was being willing to wait.
Before Penelope Hudson, I didn’t understand that. But now, I was a man who would wait forever if it meant earning her heart again.
Her hands slid to my sides, grounding me in the moment. I pulled back, and in her gaze, I saw resolve beginning to settle beside hesitation. She stepped back slowly, tugging me with her, until the backs of her knees hit the chair at the table.
She sat.
And I dropped to my knees before her.
There was no performance in it, just reverence. My place was at her feet, worshiping her in all the ways I hadn’t when I was too blind to see what I had.
Penny sat tall, her posture proud, as her hands came up to cradle my face. I looked up at her, lost in the warmth of her touch and the intensity behind her eyes.
The room was quiet, thick with anticipation, with something deep and sparking hanging in the air between us.
I slid my hands slowly up her thighs, feeling the rise of her dress as I went. Inch by inch, fabric gave way to soft skin, to heat, to a glimpse of delicate lace where her legs met. My fingers twitched with restraint, every muscle in my body tense with the desire to touch, to claim, to bend her over the table and lose myself in her.
But I didn’t move. Not until she did.
I dragged my hands back down, a teasing trail of warmth over her skin, and met her stare again. Her lips parted as her eyes fluttered closed, breath catching from the gentle stroke of my fingertips.
Finally, she leaned down and kissed me as she held my face in her hands. Slow. Lingering. Like we had all the time in the world.
Her mouth molded to mine in lazy, sultry kisses that made the world fade away. I gripped her thigh tighter, anchoring myself in her as my heart threatened to burst from my chest.
Then she pulled back, lips brushing mine as she whispered, “Do you know what I want?”
I swallowed, shaking my head slightly.
“Release.” Her voice was like a secret, a confession, a demand wrapped in velvet.
A sound, almost a whimper, escaped me. “Whatever you want, Pen. I’m yours.”
I reached for her again, but she caught my wrist and gently pushed my hand away. Then she leaned back in the chair, a sly smile curving her lips.
“No,” she murmured.
My brow lifted in surprise, but I stayed still, watching as she slowly, tantalizingly, slid the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders.
My breath caught in my throat.
She tugged the neckline down, baring her perfect breasts, silver piercings glinting in the moonlight, my greatest temptation. My mouth watered. Every primal instinct in me screamed to taste her, to run my tongue over those perfect peaks until she begged for mercy.
“I’m going to pleasure myself,” she said, rising from the chair and letting her dress fall to the floor. She stood tall, radiant, stepping out of the fabric and kicking her shoes aside.
Then, with one slow, deliberate motion, she slipped her panties down and off.
My mouth dried. My cock strained painfully against my jeans.
“And you’re going to watch.”
Her bare pussy hovered inches from my mouth, the scent of her driving me wild.
“I’ll be a good boy,” I promised hoarsely. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
She reached out, placing one finger beneath my chin, and tilted my gaze back up to hers.
“I knew I’d like seeing you on your knees for me,” she said, her voice low and teasing, “but I didn’t know I’d love it this much.”
With a groan, I reached down and palmed the rigid line of my cock through my jeans. I was rock fucking hard, my whole body straining with need as Penny stood before me—bare, bold, and about to make one of my most wicked fantasies come true.
As much as I wanted to be the one to pull every moan from her throat, I was more than willing to sit back and watch her unravel herself.
“Submission might just be my new kink,” I growled.
Penny smirked and stepped back, sinking into the chair with deliberate grace. My breath hitched, turning into ragged pants as her hands roamed upward, starting at her breasts and exploring every inch of her body like it was the first time she’d ever touched herself. Every slow glide of her fingers was mesmerizing.
Her head tipped back, lips parting in a soft gasp as she brushed her fingertips over her flushed skin. My mind filled with every memory of those curves under my hands—how her nipples would harden when I teased them, how she’d whimper when I sucked a little too hard, how her back would arch when I found just the right rhythm.
Then her fingers drifted lower, slipping between her legs.
And fuck me, I almost lost it.
She started slow, rubbing gentle circles into her thigh, edging toward the place I was desperate to be. Her lip caught between her teeth, eyes fluttering closed as she began to stroke herself.
“Fuck, Pen,” I moaned, grabbing myself again and adjusting against the painful pressure in my jeans. I wasn’t going to last. Watching her touch herself like this? It was the most erotic thing I’d seen.
She moaned softly, adding another finger as she picked up speed. Her free hand found her breast again, rolling the soft peak between her fingers. My mind flashed with images of my tongue tracing that same path, of my hands spreading her open and tasting her until she begged for more.
“Faster,” I groaned, hips shifting helplessly. “You like it faster. You always have.”
She let out a breathy sound, pushing her fingers deeper. “Yes…”
She worked herself with practiced rhythm, two fingers dipping down, gathering her slickness, then circling her clit again. Her legs were spread wide, and the view was heaven and hell all at once.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” I whispered hoarsely. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”
My palm rubbed against my length, stroking it with the friction of the fabric, adding a deeper sensation.
“Mac…” Her voice broke on my name, thick with need. “God, it’s so good…”
My name on her lips, said like a prayer, was the final push. I came, groaning low as release rushed through me, hot and uncontrollable, spilling into my jeans with the kind of intensity that made my body tremble.
When I finally opened my eyes, hers were on me as she bit her bottom lip, and her eyes gleamed with victory
“You like watching?” she asked.
“I love watching,” I said honestly, still breathless. “But now?”
I stood, towering over her as she sat sprawled in the chair, glowing and fucking wild. I reached out and slid my thumb along her cheek, then down to trace her jaw. “Now I want my turn.”
Without waiting for permission, I dropped to my knees again—but this time, not to worship from afar.
This time, I was going to taste her, and I wasn’t stopping until she screamed my name again.
Penny didn’t protest when I latched my mouth onto her center. Her thighs parted like an invitation, and I dove in, my tongue flicking out to taste her, savoring every drop of her arousal like it was the only thing I’d ever crave again.
She moaned, head falling back with a sharp gasp as her fingers tangled in my hair. She gripped hard, pulling me closer, practically shoving my face into her like she couldn’t get enough. I never wanted her to.
Growling low in my throat, I shook my head side to side, devouring her like a man who hadn’t eaten in months. I licked, sucked, gave her clit every ounce of attention it deserved before dipping lower and pushing my tongue into her tight, wet heat.
“Yes—yes,” she cried, her legs starting to tremble.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
I pushed her right past that first wave of release, straight through the eye of the storm and off the edge into something deeper, wilder. Her body tried to retreat, instinctively twitching away from the intensity, but I wasn’t letting her go.
I pressed a firm hand to her lower stomach, anchoring her in place as I finished her off. And when she finally came—loud and unfiltered—I licked her clean, drinking down every last drop of her pleasure.
Penny screamed, her voice cracking, then whimpered and moaned as her entire body went boneless.
“You…” she managed between breaths, voice airy and spent.
“I know,” I murmured, sitting back and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “You said I couldn’t touch. I promised I’d be a good boy… but no one makes you come like I do, Pen.”
She let out a breathless laugh.
“That is true.”
I reached down to grab her dress from the floor, then stood and offered her my hand. She slipped hers into mine without hesitation, and I helped her to her feet, steadying her when her knees wobbled.
Lowering to one knee, I held the dress open for her. She placed a hand on my shoulder for balance, and carefully, I guided the fabric back over her legs, then up her body. Once she was covered, I stood and adjusted the straps over her shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to her skin as I did.
“Why don’t you stay a little longer?” I asked, my voice low, warm. “We can talk, throw on a movie… whatever you want. I just want you here. With me.”
Her arms circled my neck, and she rested her head against my chest, quiet for a moment before answering.
“If I say no,” she whispered, “it’ll look like I’m not giving you a fair shot at winning me back.”
My lips curved against her temple.
“So, because I’m a woman of equal opportunity,” she added with a playful smirk, “I’ll stay a little longer.”
I chuckled, voice rough with affection. “No other reason?”
“Nope,” she said, popping the p with a grin.
But her eyes said everything her words didn’t.
She wanted to stay for more than just equal opportunity.