Just My Type (20 page)
“Calm down,” he said, stepping toward her, stupidly drawn by her distress. “I’m just telling you how it might have sounded.”
“The whole thing sounds stupid,” she declared. “It sounds like they’re all paranoid.”
“Judgmental of newcomers,” Mac admitted. “They think if you’re the new one, you should try to fit in and if you’re obviously different from them, they assume you’re doing it on purpose. And then they’ll assume it’s because you don’t approve of how they are and you don’t want to be one of them.”
“I don’t even know them!” she exclaimed. “How can I know if I want to be one of them? And how can they expect me to get to know them if they’re snotty and suspicious with me?”
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Mac shrugged. It was hard to explain. “They don’t care if you get to know them, honestly. They have their family, their friends, their work, their way of life. And they love it. And they don’t care if you fit in, like them, get to know them, stay here, or not.”
“That isn’t very nice,” she mumbled.
“No, I guess it’s not. It’s like they have their club, and they’re happy. They’re not looking for new members and so anyone who wants to get in is going to have to try hard.”
“I don’t know if I want to be in their club,” Sara pouted. “Why would I want to hang out with women who treat people like this?”
Mac grinned at the top of her head. It was cute to see Sara pout. She was never left out. She was never snubbed or judged. Everyone in Sara’s world loved her and went out of their way to be sure she was happy and cared for and had what she needed.
He’d known Oscar would be like this for her. And he’d thought it would be good for her. Not just because it might convince her even faster that this wasn’t the life she wanted, but because it might knock her down a peg or two. Being humbled once in a while wasn’t a bad thing for anyone.
“I might have offended the grocer too,” she said hesitantly.
Gus? It would be hard to offend Gus. “How?”
“I asked if there was a chance he could special order some things for me.” Mac fought a smile. “What kind of things?”
“Well, I really like nuts and he didn’t have any other than the salted in the can. I wanted to see if he could get some fresh pistachios or almonds. And he only has iceberg lettuce. I was curious about some romaine and some fresh spinach.”
Mac felt his mouth trying harder to curl. “What did he say?”
“No.”
The smile slipped out. “That’s it? Just ‘no’?”
She nodded. “I said, would it be possible for you to special order some nuts and greens? He stared at me and then just said, ‘no’.”
Mac chuckled. “I’ll get you some stuff from Omaha when I come home next time. But don’t tell anyone.”
She shrugged. “Okay. At least I did buy a few things from Gus. Maybe that’s what I should do at the beauty shop—buy some shampoo or something. They probably don’t carry my brand, but I could buy it anyway and just put it in the cupboard.”
“Sara,” Mac interrupted. He didn’t think she was even aware of how Princess-y she sounded sometimes. “Is it possible that your hair could get clean with another brand?”
“Well, yes, clean,” she said slowly. “But the shampoo I use makes my hair…” 112
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“Don’t buy anything you’re not going to use,” he broke in. “Then they’ll expect you to need to buy more occasionally, right? Either you’re going to end up offending them further when you never buy more, or we’re going to have a cupboard full of unused shampoo.” Except she wouldn’t be living here long enough to collect too many bottles, Mac reminded himself.
“Oh, I can take it to the center and let the girls take it,” Sara said quickly. “They’ll love anything.” Mac sighed. “Sara, don’t take this the wrong way. You know I love those kids as much as you do.” Mac spent three evenings a week, minimum, at the Youth Center where Sara had been the administrator. At first it had been to help keep an eye on her and spend more time with her. Now, even though she remained the largest draw for him, he found himself loving the interaction with the kids, the chance to learn about them and influence their decisions and be someone they could talk to and depend on. “If the women here found out you’re buying their shampoo and giving it away to inner-city kids because you don’t like it yourself…not sure that would go over very well.”
She frowned. “That’s ridiculous. Those kids are as deserving as anyone. They’d appreciate it more than most people who can afford it…”
Mac wrapped his hand around her upper arm and tugged her close, and covered her mouth with his.
Her passion for the kids and her work had always drawn him. But with her obviously out of her element, feeling a little vulnerable and unsure for the first time in a very, very long time, he wanted her with an intensity he hadn’t felt before.
Maybe it was because all of this, the life she was contemplating here in Oscar, was going to be fleeting. Maybe it was because he felt a little guilty for putting her in this position. Maybe it was simply because he
could
. Whatever the reason, he had to kiss her and he knew it was going to go far beyond that.
And he wasn’t going to stop it.
His lips pressed, then pulled, breaking contact for only milliseconds, lifting away, coming back to taste from another angle.
She didn’t even hesitate in kissing him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing close. He felt her soft belly press against his rock-hard fly and he cupped her butt with his big hands, lifting her up against an almost-painful erection.
She moaned, he groaned and the kiss grew hotter. She opened for him and he thrust into her, stroking her tongue, her bottom lip, then her tongue again.
Sara unabashedly pulled herself up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Mac walked forward two steps to set her on the countertop beside the uncut fruit. Not needing to hold her up any longer, he let one hand slide along the outside of her hip to her thigh and down to her ankle, then slid up the front of her leg, along the smooth skin to her knee. He paused, dipping his fingers into the softness behind her knee, then slid his hand up over the top of her thigh. His hand was so big that his thumb glided along the silky skin of
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her inner thigh. Until it came to the juncture where her leg met her pelvis. The pad of his thumb met the hot silk of her panties and he simply had to know the color of that silk.
He stroked his thumb back and forth along the lacy edge and reveled in the way her breath hitched.
He trailed his lips along her jaw, to her ear. He sucked the lobe into his mouth, loving her moan, then licked along the side of her neck. “Sara,” he said huskily.
“Yeah?” she breathed, tipping her head to give him better access.
“I need you naked.”
“Okay.” She reached up behind her and untied the string holding the bodice of her dress up.
Just
okay
. He marveled at his luck as he pulled back to watch. The dress dropped away from her breasts. No bra. He knew exactly how this was going to go.
“Lift up,” he commanded.
Sara clamped her legs around him and lifted her butt from the Formica. He tugged the dress down over her hips, then when she released her hold on his waist, he whisked it down her legs and tossed it toward the refrigerator.
He stepped back. Turquoise blue. Her panties were the same color as her dress.
“Did you buy those to go with the dress?” he asked.
She nodded. “Perfect match.”
“They need to go with the dress now too,” he said, tipping his head toward the dress on the floor.
She hooked her thumbs in the top of the panties and wiggled on the counter, working them down one side at a time. They dropped to her ankles and she kicked them in the direction of the fridge.
Mac didn’t look to see where they landed. Didn’t matter.
“On the table,” he said gruffly.
She looked over at the big wooden kitchen table. “What? The panties?”
“You.”
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Her eyes widened. “Me? On the table?”
“Now.” He fisted his hands at his sides. He wanted her to follow his commands freely.
“Why not go upstairs? To the bed?”
He gave her a half smile. “Haven’t you heard? I’m not into conventional sex.” She rolled her eyes. “I remember. The nipple clamps.”
As usual, his body tightened in response to hearing her talk about things he’d never imagined her even knowing about.
“And you mentioned something about more than one woman,” she added.
“Well, there’s a spectrum of unconventional,” he told her.
“Ah.”
“Kitchen tables are not quite as far along the spectrum as ménages. Or, say, orgies.” She narrowed her eyes. “Good to know.” Then she glanced around the kitchen. “It’s the middle of the day.”
“Yep.”
“There are lots of windows down here.”
“Yep.”
“Someone might come by.”
“They might.”
“I…”
“Table. Now, Sara.” He wouldn’t repeat it too many more times. He could quite easily
put
her on the table. But he wanted to watch her get up there, lay back and offer herself up to him.
Finally, with a deep breath, she slid from the counter and padded across the linoleum to the table. He watched her breasts bounce slightly, the sway of her hips and the flush of excitement on her skin. She was breathing faster than usual.
He smiled. She’d started this.
“I brought your mail too,” he said.
She turned to face him, the table right behind her. She braced her hands on the top of the table and pushed herself up to sit on the edge. “Thanks.”
“There was a package.”
Erin Nicholas
“Oh?”
“Right there.”
She looked in the direction he was pointing. The box from Scandalous Somethings sat at the other end of the table.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “It came!” She hopped back down to the floor, seeming oblivious to her nakedness and the windows suddenly.
The box was, of course, already open and she gave him a grin when she noticed. Mac forced himself to stay where he was. For now.
She took everything out of the box, laying it on the table, like it was her birthday or Christmas morning.
“I’ve been wondering about this,” she said, turning to face him and unscrewing the lid to one of the jars of body powder. She watched him as she lifted her index finger to her mouth and slid it past her lips.
Withdrawing the wet digit, she dipped it into the jar, then pulled it out covered with yellow powder. She licked her tongue along the length of her finger. Slowly. Twice.
“You’re not laying on the table,” he said, crossing his arms and intentionally looking displeased.
She wasn’t buying it. “No, I’m not. Yet.” She crossed to where he stood. Her nipples were erect, her pulse beating rapidly at the hollow of her throat. Her eyes held mischief. She dipped her finger into the jar again and then held it up to him.
He circled her wrist with his hand, tugging her forward, until her breasts brushed the soft cotton of his T-shirt. She sucked in a quick breath and he smiled, feeling hungry suddenly. His closed his lips around her finger, his eyes locked on hers. He dragged his tongue from the base to the tip of her finger, swirled it around the pad, then sucked as he slowly pulled her finger free. She was holding her breath now. The powder tasted pretty good. He did love banana splits.
“I don’t think this powder was made for fingers,” he said huskily.
She licked her lips. “It’s for…anything we want.”
“I want, Sara,” he said, his voice dropping to a near growl. “I want badly.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
“Get on the table.”
He’d promised himself he wasn’t going to have sex with her. He had not, however, promised not to touch her. Not touching her would have been smarter and easier in the long run. Hell, not touching her might have sped along the breakup he was trying for. But not touching her simply wasn’t a possibility. He was a smart guy. He wasn’t going to try to tell himself he could keep his hands to himself while living with Sara, even if it was for only a few days at a time.
And maybe all of the “unconventional” things he wanted to do would help convince her this wasn’t what she wanted. But he was sure as hell going to enjoy them until she said stop.
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Sara slid back up on the table.
Mac took the jar of banana split body powder from her. “Lay back.” He hooked his arm under her knees and turned her as she lay back so that her legs were up on the table too. “And as long as this is here.” He slid the pink fur-covered wedge down the table to her hips.
Wordlessly, she bent her knees and lifted her butt off the table. Mac slid the wedge under her so she lay on an incline, her hips up.
Perfect.
He took the powder puff that came with the jar and dipped it in the powder. Then he lightly skimmed it over her collarbones from one side to the other.
“Mmm.” Sara closed her eyes and stretched her arms over her head.
Mac leaned over and licked the powder up.
She arched her back slightly, toward his mouth. He smiled and added more powder to the puff, then dragged it over her skin from collarbone to nipple. When the fluffy cotton touched the sensitive tip, Sara sucked in a breath.
He followed the trail of powder with his tongue, over her chest, to the nipple. She gasped and arched closer, and he couldn’t resist. Foregoing the powder puff, he took a pinch of powder between thumb and forefinger and sprinkled it over her nipple and the areola. He licked it off, sucking on the tip before licking again, then sucking.
She was moaning, her head moving restlessly against the table.
“You know my favorite part of banana splits?” Mac asked, powdering the opposite breast.
“Um…” she murmured, clearly not focused on the question. Or forming words at all.
Mac bent and tasted her right nipple.
