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Two months later
TODAY HAS BEEN A GOOD day. I know better than to expect to feel like this very often, but I got six hours of uninterrupted sleep last night plus a nap this afternoon. I kind of feel like a new person. I just finished a feeding, and Mac is rocking Kenzie to sleep. Well, she’s already asleep. He’s just rocking her. She’s a little pink lump on his massive chest, so small in his big man hands. The sound of his heartbeat always soothes her so much. She must know she’s safe. Nothing can hurt her when she’s in his gentle hands.
What’s not safe is my libido. Holy fuckballs. A beefy alpha man with a teeny tiny baby on his chest would put a little spring in any woman’s ovaries. The fact that it’s my teeny tiny baby adds a triple Axel to that spring. “You going to put that baby to bed soon?”
He grunts. “I like her when she’s sleeping.”
“You don’t fool me. You like that baby all the time. So much for being my grouchy neighbor.”
He gets out of the chair with this masculine grace that makes me jealous. Especially since he does it without waking the baby. Something I haven’t mastered yet. “We should take her to the park tomorrow.”
“She’s a little young for the slide.”
“I was thinking more about fresh air. And that maybe you could use some too.”
It’s been a few days since I left the apartment. Two? Three? “Yeah, you know, that might be a good idea.” Since I can’t remember what outside feels like.
He tucks Kenzie into her crib and winces when he straightens.
“What's wrong? You hurt yourself at the gym?”
He rubs his shoulder. “I pushed too hard today. My traps and lats,” he says like that’s something I would understand.
“That means...”
“That means I should get you down to the gym. Then you’d know.”
“Ha. Not happening. Unless that’s your way of insinuating I’m out of shape.” More like he’s just kind of bossy about what he thinks is good for me. Which I allow because it’s nice to be cared for.
Mac gets down two glasses and pours the non-alcoholic wine for us. “I wouldn’t mind if you were stronger just because I want you to be able to defend yourself.”
“You’re just tired of opening all my jars.”
“I’ll always open jars for you.”
We sort of pause there, like our conversation is on DVR. There is this long exchange where the two of us just stare into each other's eyes. In a moment that should have been uncomfortable or strange, instead there is a connection. I don’t want to read too much into what he said, but “always” is a long time, and I’m having a hard time with remembering we’re just friends lately. He’s with us a lot. He takes care of Kenzie like a dad. He even spent the night in my bed last week when she was getting up every twenty minutes. A very platonic night in my bed, but still.
He’s in boyfriend mode except for the part where there is any kind of affection that isn’t platonic.
We still haven’t addressed what we were doing on the couch when I went into labor. It was stricken from the record, I guess. And for a while, it needed to be. But my girl parts are defrosting again after their hiatus, and my hot neighbor fantasies are warming up.
I need to break this weird silence, though. “So, what is a...what did you call it that’s sore? Trats?”
He hands me a glass. “Lats and traps. Turn around.”
I take a sip and turn as he places a large, strong, warm hand on my upper back.
“Here and...” He slides his hand onto my shoulder. “Here.”
My heart sprints from his touch, giving me a good workout after all. My breath grows heavy. “Oh.” I wish this wine had real booze right now. I could use the liquid courage. No drinking until I’m done nursing, though.
“Wow, you're pretty tense, too.” His hand gently kneads my shoulder.
He’s touched me plenty in the last three months. I’m not sure what is different right now. Why his hot breath on my skin causes my nipples to pucker under my shirt. Why, when I let myself go lax against his hard body behind me, I have to hold in the moan.
“You're all knotted up. Your shoulders are stiffer than mine.”
Why don’t you show me how stiff you are?
Down, girl.
I groan when he works out one of those knots with his thick hands. “I think my knots have knots. This isn’t hurting your right hand, is it? You just stopped wearing the brace.”
“Don’t worry about my hand. Just relax.”
I loll my head to one side and release all the tension in my body. Mac’s breathing becomes louder, and his dick presses against my ass but neither of us comment on it. Is he taking as much pleasure from massaging me as I am from his magic hands? “It feels really good, Stryker.” I take a chance and press my ass against his hardening dick.
He doesn’t say a word as he slowly slides one of his hands down my side to the waistband of my shorts and tugs lightly at my nursing top, exposing a patch of skin to his tracing fingers.
We’ve gone too far to call this an innocent massage now. I guess it’s time to do the big girl thing and make a move. A real one.
I reach behind me and rub his erection. “Feels like you’re stiff, too, Stryker. I think you need a rubdown as much as I do.”
––––––––
I GROAN AND REST MY chin on her shoulder, inhaling the soft skin of her neck. Fuck, I want her... I want Hillary so badly. I’ve spent countless nights either jacking myself to sleep thinking about her or dreaming of her in ways I felt guilty about in the morning. I want to see her naked little body, put my hands on the breasts that are incredibly generous for her frame, hold her hips as I discover how tight and hot she is...
But this isn’t right. She’s just had a baby and surgery. I have nothing to offer her. I’m still not cleared to go back to work. I still can’t talk about the last call I went on and what happened to Ricky. I still wake up in a cold sweat most nights. I feel like half the man I used to be, and that guy was no prize either. Not good enough for her or Kenzie. “Hillary...”
“Shhhh,” she says, “you don't have to say anything.” She turns so she’s facing me and sets her NA wine on the counter. The pulse in her throat is leaping as she runs her hands from my wrists up to my shoulders and then curls them around the back of my neck. She stands on tiptoe and gently lays her lips on mine. She pulls back and tenderly traces my lower lip with the pad of her thumb.
Fuck if I know what to do with this sweetness. I clutch her arms, my limbs shaky and weak. “I’m not sure this—”
Hillary pulls my head down to rest my forehead against hers with a sigh. Cupping both my cheeks, she softly uses her fingertips to comb through my hair. Stretching up to me again, just a breath away from my lips, she whispers, “I’m sure.” She leans forward just enough to barely touch her lips to mine. Then she whispers again, “I’m very, very sure.” With a smile, she pulls me closer to meet her lips fully. Her mouth slides over mine, lips clinging, sipping.
Her mouth curves in pleasure when I return her kiss. I don’t rush this, though part of me wants to. It’s just a soft, gentle exploration, like we have all the time in the world. I tell myself we’ll stop soon. Take it slow. There’s this feeling inside me that keeps fluttering just out of my grasp, and I know if I try to hold it, it will disappear. I need to just let this sweetness happen.
I part my lips in invitation, not wanting to push. But it’s getting harder. I’m getting harder. Softly, she touches the inside of my mouth, tasting and exploring me, like she’s learning my flavor as she slides her tongue against mine.
Time spins out, and I lose myself in her. My hands are in her hair, her body flush against mine. All that softness and warmth that I don’t deserve, yet I take. And take.
Her hands are under my shirt, stroking my chest and torso, creating little patterns of sparks wherever her fingertips land. I try to reach for her wrists. “Wait.”
“Done waiting.” Her hands are pulling up the hem of my shirt, and any war I might have been fighting is over when I see the sheer delight in her eyes as she uncovers me. Fuck, her desire undoes me. I rip the shirt off and tug her to me, delving back into her luscious lips. It’s not sweet kisses anymore. I’m all-out assaulting her mouth, fucking her with my tongue, bringing as much of her body against me as I can and holding her tightly. Maybe too tightly. Months of stored sexual tension just broke the dam of careful control I’d cultivated, and I can’t give a fuck.
I pick her up, mauling her on the way to her bedroom. Her legs wrap around my waist and she grinds on my cock. Damn, that’s good.
I set her on her feet next to the bed and I try to find thoughts through the haze of lust. “Wait. Are you okay to do this? Is it too soon?”
“Doctor cleared me at my last appointment. I didn’t say anything because, well, we weren’t...we haven’t been...”
“And we are now?”
“We are now for sure.” She bites her lip and looks at the tent in my shorts. “I need you, Mac.”
Rockets burst in my damned ribcage. Want can’t begin to describe what I’m feeling. “Baby, there’s two men warring inside me right now. One wants to make love to you slow and sweet and treat you like a princess.”
“And the other?”
Dare I? Will I scare her off? Maybe that’s best. If she sees the ugly parts, maybe she’ll protect herself.
I wind her hair around my hand and tug, exposing her throat to me. I close my mouth over her skin and nip, then lave it with my tongue. “The other wants to fuck you dirty and raw and treat you like a toy.”