MacNamarasLady (12 page)

T.S. broke their kiss and went down on his
knees in front of her. He yanked her jeans down her thighs. Missy helped him by
lifting her feet one at a time, allowing him to strip away her pants and socks.

Her panties were white and they shone like
a beacon against her dark skin. They were cut low in the front and high on the
sides. The material was so thin he could see her dark pubic hair beneath it. In
spite of the olive tone to his flesh, it looked pale against the darker, richer
tones of her smooth skin. The image was very erotic and turned him on. He
wanted to touch her everywhere.

He kissed her bellybutton, snaking out his
tongue to delve into the little indentation. Her hands burrowed into this hair,
holding him to her. He worked his way down, taking biting kisses, which he
soothed with his tongue. Her hips moved, pushing forward.

He could smell her heat, her arousal and
inhaled it deep into his lungs. His cock was harder than steel and pushing hard
for release from his pants. He flicked open the button and zipper, giving
himself some relief.

“Touch me.” Her words were little more than
a breathy whisper.

“I plan to.” He worked his tongue over her
pussy lips, touching her through the thin fabric of her panties. She sucked in
a breath and then began to pant faster. He stroked the line at the top of her
thighs where the leg band of her panties rested. One finger slipped beneath it.

She was hot and wet and he almost lost his
mind when he touched her. Missy cried out his name, her hips arching. He shoved
the panties down to her ankles, eager to remove every barrier between them.
There was no hesitation as he delved into her heat.

He slid two fingers into her slick channel,
stretching her.

“Yes,” she moaned. “More.”

T.S. captured her clit between his lips and
sucked. He pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt, driving her up fast and
hard.

Missy cried out. His scalp stung where she
tugged on his hair.

“Come for me,” he demanded. He needed her
to come so he could finally get inside her, bury his cock deep in her welcoming
sheath.

He worked a third finger into her. A loud
wail filled the air as her pussy gripped his fingers, rhythmically contracting
around them as she came. He didn’t wait for her to finish spasming. He
couldn’t.

He reached into his pants pocket and
produced a condom. He’d made sure to get a pack when he’d stopped on the way
home to get his prescriptions filled, stashing several of them in his pocket
just in case. He was damn glad he had. No way could he make it to his bedroom
for one. Not with Missy wet and willing.

He shoved down his underwear and quickly
sheathed his cock in latex. Missy was still gasping for breath when he stood
and lifted her left leg over his right hip. He guided the tip of his shaft to
her slit and pushed.

She cried out again as he stretched the
still-contracting muscles, forcing them to make way for him. She squirmed, the
action driving him deeper. He sucked air into his lungs in several big gasps.
He loved the way she felt around him—hot and moist and welcoming.

T.S. circled his hips, grinding his pelvis
against hers. Gradually, she took him, inch by inch until he was buried to the
hilt. Gripping her ass, he began to move. Her breasts rubbed against his chest,
her nipples poking into his skin. Her fingernails dug into his butt as he began
to flex his hips back and forth. His thrusts were short and shallow. He wasn’t
going to last.

He reached between them and found her
swollen clit. He fingered her gently, wanting desperately for her to come
again. He wanted her cunt to close around his dick and squeeze it hard and
tight.

“Theo,” she cried. It was so strange for
someone other than his mother to say his name. No one ever used it. But it felt
right with Missy. An alarm bell rang in the back of his mind but he couldn’t
focus on it. Not with Missy’s slick channel spasming around his shaft.

He thrust harder and faster, withdrawing a
bit farther and driving deeper. Her hands left his butt and clutched at his
back and shoulders. They were plastered together torso to torso, their hips
working furiously as he pounded into her. She met him stroke for stroke.

“Come for me, babe. Again.” He buried his
face in the curve of her neck and gently bit the sensitive skin. She cried out,
her inner muscles rippling over and around his dick.

His balls tightened. His orgasm started in
the base of his cock and shot up through his shaft. He yelled as he came and
continued to pump into her. Missy let out a low moan and her sheath closed
around him in a death grip.

When he was spent, he rested his forehead
against the cool wall. He’d taken her in the kitchen against the wall. Classy.
But she hadn’t seemed to mind. She’d been right there with him all the way.

He shoved away from the wall and stared
down at her. Her skin was moist and dewy with sweat. Her lungs were still
working to pull in enough breath. Her lips were parted. Inviting. So he swooped
down and kissed her.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him
with a glazed look. “Steady now.” He made sure she was okay before he pulled
out and disposed of the condom in the trash.

Missy was looking around for her clothing.
“I should go.”

He didn’t want that. Not yet.

He took her hand in his. “Let’s get a
shower first.” He didn’t give her time to object, but pulled her down the
hallway behind him.

Missy stood in the shower with water
cascading over her, wondering how the heck she’d gotten here. She hadn’t planned
to have sex with T.S. again. Not exactly. Okay, so she’d hoped they have sex
again. It was still the weekend and she was having a fling with him. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow she’d be back at work and back to normal and this weekend would be
nothing but a memory.

Her pussy was still pulsing. She’d had two.
Count them. Two orgasms in the kitchen. T.S. was spontaneous and so it seemed
was she. At least when she was with him. She’d never had any problem
maintaining control before.

Hard hands came around her from behind and
cupped her breasts. Missy pressed deeper into his palms. She couldn’t get
enough of his touch. Soap bubbled up around his fingers as he stroked them over
her nipples before sliding one hand down her torso.

She spread her legs without him having to ask.
In spite of her earlier orgasms, her body was primed and ready once again. He
slipped two fingers into her swollen sheath and slowly separated them.

Tomorrow. She went up on her toes and
moaned as he pushed his fingers deeper. She’d worry about the implications of
this weekend tomorrow.

T.S. slowly worked his fingers in and out
of her slick channel. She reached behind and gripped his head, turning hers so
she could see him. His eyes were burning with sexual fire as she went up on her
toes and kissed him.

Tomorrow was soon enough.

Chapter Eight

“So what’s going on between you and T.S.?”

Missy did her best to ignore her friend’s
question. She didn’t have a clue what was going on between her and T.S. In
spite of her resolve that their time together was nothing more than a wedding
and drama-induced weekend fling, they were still seeing each other.

The past two weeks had gone by in a blur of
activity. Missy had signed her statement at the police station. The second
assailant was still at large. She shivered, trying not to think about it.

T.S.’ arm was healed, the stitches removed.
She still couldn’t believe everything they’d done that weekend and him with a
bad arm. Not once had he complained or even seemed to notice his injury. At
least not when she was around, even though she knew it had to have hurt.

He’d called her that first Monday and
somehow they’d ended up having dinner together almost every night over the past
two weeks—mostly at her place, twice at his and at a restaurant three other
times. It surprised her how much they found to talk about—politics, religion,
movies, music, friends and work. The only subject off limits was family.
Neither one of them wanted to talk about that.

They went to see a movie. Surprisingly
enough, it hadn’t been one with fifty explosions, but a dramatic piece. T.S.
had enjoyed it. He’d also seemed to have fun at the concert she’d invited him
to. The artist was a folk singer she particularly liked. T.S. was proving to be
a man of many layers. And maybe she was guilty of judging a book by its cover.

“Are you listening to me?” Candy sat down
on the corner of Missy’s desk, waving her hand up and down.

“I’m listening. I’m just not answering.”

“So there is something going on,” Candy
crowed. “I knew it. I could tell there was a spark between you two ever since
the night of the wedding.”

The night of the attack. There was no way
Missy could separate the two things in her mind. She wrapped her arms around
herself to get warm. She always felt cold these days. She was still having
nightmares and some flashbacks about the attack, but they were lessening as
time went on.

“I’m sorry.” Candy rubbed her hand
soothingly over Missy’s arm. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“You’re not.” She had to stop acting like
this. The past was just that. All she could do was move forward with her life.
And that was part of the problem. T.S. was messing up her plans. She still had
to expand her career before she found a permanent partner, a potential husband.
She didn’t have time for a fling, a man. Not now.

Although, she’d had no problem finding time
for him these past few weeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her friend’s
genuine concern jolted her from her thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Missy glanced at the
clock. “How about we go out for lunch?” It was a bit early, but that only meant
they’d beat the crowd.

“I’d love to.” Candy swung off her desk.
“I’ll get my coat and meet you in the lobby.”

Missy shut down her computer and grabbed
her jacket and purse. Her body still had twinges from last night. T.S. had come
over with Chinese takeout and a movie. He’d stayed for a few hours after and
made love to her several times. No, it wasn’t making love. It was having sex.
Two mature adults having sex. Nothing wrong with that.

She closed her eyes and resisted the urge
to beat her head against the nearest wall. T.S. was completely wrong for her.
She’d made a list of what characteristics her perfect man would have and he
didn’t fit many of the criteria.

Maybe her standards were a bit skewed. It
had focused more on outward trappings and less on values. She’d liked him
before that fateful weekend, but since then she’d come to
really
like
him. She wouldn’t say the “L” word. It was too soon. And it didn’t matter. He
wasn’t looking for anything permanent, which in a way made him the perfect guy
for her at this stage of her life.

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy,” she
muttered. She pulled on her coat and strode toward the lobby where Candy was
waiting.

She needed to stop over-thinking things and
simply enjoy the sex. Their relationship wouldn’t last. He’d get tired of being
with one woman soon enough or she’d get tired of him. A little voice in the
back of her head cautioned her that wasn’t going to happen. She ignored the
warning voice and plastered a smile on her face as she joined Candy. “Ready?”

* * * * *

T.S. finished fitting the last piece of
baseboard into place and set aside the nail gun. The apartment was really
coming along. He flexed his left arm and was pleased there wasn’t so much as a
twinge. It had healed well.

“That it for today?” Lucas’ brother-in-law,
Justin, swiped his arm across his forehead. They’d been working side-by-side
for the past several weeks on the apartment in Lucas’ building. It would belong
to Justin when it was done.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He gazed around the
room, pleased with the progress they’d made.

“The kitchen looks great.” Justin stood
with his hands on his hips and surveyed the room, which opened into the living
area. A six-foot counter with a marble top separated the two rooms and would serve
as a workspace and breakfast bar.

“It does. You’ll be able to move in as soon
as the bathroom is done. Shouldn’t be more than another week.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

He knew that Justin was staying in a cheap
apartment downtown and that he and Candy had been estranged for more than a
decade before he’d suddenly turned back up in his sister’s life again. There
was a story there for sure, but T.S. wasn’t asking. He had his own secrets to
keep.

“You coming up for supper?” Justin asked.

Candy had stopped in earlier and invited
both of them to dinner. She’d also invited Missy. He could have told her there
was no need to matchmake. He and Missy were doing just fine all on their own.
Neither of them was looking for anything permanent. They were just enjoying
each other’s company.

Usually, he didn’t like to spend too much
time with one woman. It made him feel hemmed in, tied down. Plus it gave a
woman ideas about making things permanent. But it wasn’t like that with Missy.
She was independent. To a fault sometimes. She didn’t need him. Maybe that was
the draw.