15. MJ
M J
K issing Mac is nothing and everything like I expected.
He tastes like citrus and mint, and I can’t get enough.
Even though we can both touch the bottom, I am held tight in the water by his powerful arms. The current is weak, but he clings tightly as if I’ll be swept away.
With my legs wrapped around his waist, I pull him closer, relishing the sensation of his kisses on my lips, cheek, and neck.
His cock grows hard between us and if it weren’t for the water, I would be slick with arousal.
A soft moan escapes my lips as he kisses down to my collarbone.
As he kisses back up my neck to my lips, his lips quirk into a smile.
We are a tangle of limbs and heat, pouring everything into this moment.
The fear of it being over in an instant forces me to give him everything.
Pulling away from each other, panting, his arms tighten around me, almost in reassurance.
Chests heaving, hearts beating wildly, our eyes lock.
We don’t need words. All my words were in that kiss.
Everything he’s not saying is in his blue-green eyes.
I slide my hands up into his hair. Gripping him, I pull his face toward mine again and kiss him softly, tentatively.
Peppering kisses across his cheek, jawlin e to under his ear, I feel him huff out a laugh.
Kissing back to his lips, he smiles against mine and hugs me tight, his voice raspy. “We should probably get you home.”
Nodding, I dislodge myself from his body, instantly missing his warmth.
Water splashes as we wade out of the creek, and he leads me back to his car.
Grabbing our clothes from the stump, he sets them on the hood and opens the back door.
“Figure this will work. I’m not prepared like you.
” He holds up a large sweatshirt and opens it up for me to step into.
“It’ll work.” I step into him, and he wraps it around me, rubbing my shoulders. Satisfied I’m dry enough, he runs the sweatshirt over his body and I slide my dress back on. Handing him his clothes, I watch his muscles ripple as he bends and twists to get dressed while not fully dry.
Mac drives slowly back to my parents’ house, where he parks and looks over at me. He looks tired, and I feel tired, but I don’t want this night to end. I reach down to grab my bag.
“So, did you decide?” Mac asks, quirking his eyebrow.
“Decide what?”
A grin completely takes over his face. “Did you decide if this was a date or not?”
I huff out a laugh. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I lean across the center console into his space and look him dead in the eyes and whisper, “Best first date ever.”
“Thank fuck,” he groans before leaning into me and kissing me as passionately as he did down in the creek.
His hands tangle in my damp hair as he tugs me toward him.
Without disconnecting our lips, I maneuver my body through the labyrinth that is the inside of his Chevelle.
Careful not to nudge the stick shift or any other buttons or knobs, I end up straddling him in the driver’s seat.
He’s hard beneath me, the outline of his cock rubbing deliciously against my core through my panties, and I moan against his lips.
He lowers his hand from the back of my head to the side of my neck, the other fists my dress as he slips his tongue inside my mouth.
I moan as my hips rock back and forth. A guttural sound escapes him, and he nips at my bottom lip.
“MJ, we—” he’s breathing heavily, “we can’t.”
I groan, knowing he’s right, but not wanting to stop.
“Please, Mac, just . . .” I trail off and kiss him again.
My mind is foggy. I’m not thinking straight because I am overwhelmed with desire and pure need at this point.
I rock my hips again and press my body into his, feeling the friction of his jeans hit me right where I need.
Mac lifts his hips to meet mine, and he groans before kissing down my neck to my collarbone. “You like rubbing yourself on my cock?” he mumbles. I nod my head as my hips move faster, pressing down on him even harder.
“Yes. Oh, my god . . .” Both of Mac’s hands are on my hips now. He’s lifting his hips up and pushing mine down to give me the most friction possible, and I think I might lose my mind.
“Good girl , use me. Take what you need.” And that’s all it takes. My body flushes, the orgasm barreling through me like a wildfire in the middle of summer, and I moan. I think I say his name. My words are incoherent as I come down from the peak he’s just taken me to.
Mac lessens his grip on my hips, bringing one hand up to my neck again and holds me as I slump against him.
“I’ve got you,” he reassures me. I curl into him, my breathing leveling out, coming down from the high.
He strokes my hair, his cock still huge and thick beneath me.
I slide my hand between us, down to his belt buckle, wanting to return the favor.
He grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together, and holds it between our bodies, shaking his head. I jut out my bottom lip. “But—”
“No, baby, I’m good. I’m more than good.” He leans in and kisses my lips again, and I sigh.
Self-conscious that my now-soaked panties are seeping into his jeans, I make my way back over to the passenger side of his car.
I smooth my dress down then flip the visor to assess the damage.
Mac’s hands were all over my face and in my hair, so the tousled look was about what I was expecting, but I still suck in a breath.
Mac chuckles. “Yeah, you look freshly fucked.”
“Shit! What if my parents are awake?” I ask, glancing at him as panic replaces the smirk on his face.
Patting down my hair as best as I can, I pull a hair tie out of my bag, twisting it into a messy bun.
Worst-case, I can just say I got hot and had to put it up.
When I turn back to Mac, his smirk returns.
“Yeah, that’ll he lp,” he says. I don’t believe him for a second, but here’s to hoping no one is up. Biting my lip, I grab my bag and reach for the door handle before turning back to him.
“I think it’ll be best if you stay in the car, just in case.”
“Okay.” He leans across the car and kisses me softly. “Forgive me for not getting the door for you this one time?”
I smack his chest with the back of my hand. “Yeah, you goofball! Text me when you’re home?”
“Of course.” We lean away from each other, and I can feel his eyes on me as I walk up to the house.
Pushing open the front door, I’m hoping I can sneak upstairs without waking anyone up. Closing the door gently behind me, I tiptoe across the marble tiles toward the stairs. Buttery light pours out of the library. Shit .
Hopeful he hasn’t heard me, I take a tentative step onto the bottom stair. The wood groans softly beneath my foot. Double shit .
“Emmalynn, come in here, please,” my father’s baritone voice disrupts the quiet space. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath and pivot toward the library. I smooth my dress down, hoping I don’t look as disheveled and freshly-fucked as Mac suggested.
“Yes, Daddy.” I give him my most saccharine tone.
He’s sitting in an oversized high-back chair with a book on his lap.
Pulling his glasses off his face, he sighs.
As he lowers his arm, he rolls his glasses between his fingers.
They swing back and forth like a pendulum, ticking down the seconds to my doom. Tick-tock.
“I heard you were o ut with Alexander tonight.” The accusation rolls off his lips.
“How did you—” Ah yes, the small-town rumor mill works harder and faster than anything else in this town. I saw the stares, heard the whispers, I should've known he’d already be aware. “Yes, I was. We went to the Movie in the Park with some friends.”
My dad sighs, and I can feel the disappointment radiating off him.
“Emmalynn, you’re a smart girl. Do you think that boy is the type of company you should keep?”
“Daddy, he’s my friend, just like Blake, Austin, and Shannon.”
“Yes, but he’s also trouble, Emmalynn.” He doesn’t raise his voice, not really.
But his stern tone is enough to startle me, and I take a step back.
I’ve never been afraid of my father. He’s never laid a hand on any of us.
The tone he’s using reminds me of when he’s in the zone at work, and I know he’s intent on getting his way.
Accepting defeat, I stand there in silence.
He sighs again, this time his tone is softer. “I just don’t want you to get into trouble, too. You have a bright future ahead of you and I would hate to see it ruined because of some boy.”
Rolling my lips I continue my silence, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. I know he wants what’s best for me, but does anyone know what’s best for someone else’s heart?
“Go on upstairs and get some rest. We can talk more about this with your mother as well.” He dismisses me.
I offer him a curt no d and then turn to the stairs, racing up them as quickly as possible.
Closing my door silently, I strip my clothes off and turn the water on as hot as it will go.
The water rains down on me, warming the chill that has taken hold of my bones.
My mind replays the night with Mac and then with the conversation with my dad.
He’s so convinced that Mac is bad news, but I still don’t one hundred percent believe he even committed the crime he’s being accused of.
Why can’t he see Mac how I do? The way I always have?
Why has no one even questioned if he actually did it?
What happened to innocent until proven guilty?
He may have plead guilty but . . . the water turns cool, pulling me from my thoughts.
June 22