Sidelined (7 page)

I smile into her temple. “But does it make you come like I do?”

“We’re talking generalities. For the record, it also doesn’t pin me against my door all alpha-asshole just because it doesn’t get its own way.”

“Then it definitely doesn’t make you come like I do,” I mutter, fighting a laugh. “Baby, give it a go. Come on. You have nothing to lose.”

“Except my sanity,” Macey mutters back. “Especially since my aunt doesn’t seem to realize that sending me pictures of the potato-head doesn’t make matters better.”

“Potato-head?”

“The baby.”

“Again…potato-head?” I release her hands, and she looks up, her dark eyes shimmering.

“It looks like a potato,” she whispers, her shoulders quivering with the laughter I see in her eyes. “Poor kid.”

I laugh. “All babies look like potatoes, M. Especially at first. You should see pictures of Reid’s son when he was first born.”

“Reid has a son?”

“Yeah. Long story. He’s seven now.” I shrug, thinking of Leo’s grinning face. “But never mind them.” I catch her again before she moves away. “You never answered me. Try me.”

Macey’s chest heaves, and once again, slowly, she pulls her eyes up to mine. “I don’t know.”

“You still in love with him?”

“What?” she breathes, her eyes widening.

“Your ex. You still love him?”

“No. I haven’t for a long time, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. That doesn’t mean I’m not still scarred by what he did to me.”

“Then try me.”

A long moment of silence passes between us. She chews on her lip, the inside of her cheek, her tongue. She flicks her eyes away and back over and over, the embodiment of uncertainty.

“My terms,” she finally says. “You don’t call me—I call you. I tell you everything from food to the time. And if you can’t do it, tough shit. You have to wait until I’m ready to call you again.”

She’s defiant and totally set on this plan. And…fuck. I don’t stand by and let girls tell me what to do, and I sure as hell had no intentions of starting that. Ever. But this chick—Macey…

“Fine,” I whisper in a low voice, bringing her body against mine and winding my fingers into her hair. “But as soon as the food is over, you give yourself to me and the control is mine. Understand?”

“Understand,” she says, her voice just as quietly as mine.

“And, baby?” I ghost my lips along her jaw. “No fucking anyone else.”

“I didn’t agree to that.”

“Doesn’t matter. It ain’t gonna happen anyway. I won’t fuck another girl, so you don’t fuck another guy.”

“Dumb-ass ploy to make me call you more often.”

I smile against her skin. Shit. I should have known that wouldn’t get past her. “Call it dumb when you’re writhing beneath me with my name on your lips.”

“It’ll always be dumb.”

“But it’ll work.”

She clicks her tongue in response and looks up. I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her long and slow, deep and hard, moving my tongue against hers in a way that leaves her with no doubt that it’ll work.

I pull back, leaving her cheeks flushed, her eyes glossy, and her lips parted, and whisper, “Try me?”

“I’ll try you,” she confirms softly.

“D
o you have a size four in these?”

I turn to the blonde behind me. She’s holding up a hot-pink pair of panties with an impatient look on her face.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but if there isn’t one on the rack, we don’t have any in stock. Our next delivery is tomorrow morning.”

The woman huffs. “They’re stretchy. I suppose the two will fit.”

She turns and stalks to the register, looking far more a size two than the four she just asked for. I close my eyes, count to five, and turn back to reorganizing the underwear on the wall.

Retail sucks. I fucking hate working in retail, and I only do sixteen hours per week. Maybe retail would be nicer anywhere other than Los Angeles, where the women are tiny and their clothes have to be tinier. But I don’t know, and quite honestly, I have zero desire to discover that.

When I graduate for the second time, I’m never, ever working in a store again. I’d rather collect trash.

The only good thing about retail is the staff discount—and when you work in Agent Provocateur and have a penchant for panties, this is a very good thing.

It’s probably the only reason I’m still working here.

“Your underwear costs more than my weekly food bill,” Ryann’s voice says from behind me.

I grin and stand. “That’s why you tell me what you want and I get you your discount.”

“This is true,” she says, her eyes going up over my head to peruse the new collection. “Oooh, that teal set is cute!”

“You don’t wear cute underwear, Ry.”

“You do when you’re not getting laid.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be shooting?”

“Yes.” She steps to the side and looks at the items on the other side of me. “But the producer decided today was a great time to get food poisoning, so they’ve called it a day and I’m shopping for new panties.”

“Good choice,” I agree. “How’s it going?”

“I’m exhausted. Can’t you see these bags under my eyes?” She taps under her eyes.

I raise my eyebrows. “Nothing there, doll.”

“Well, that’s because makeup is fantastic.”

“Hey, how’s shooting going with Cole?”

Her cheeks flush. “Oh, don’t. We had to reshoot a scene three times yesterday then break because I couldn’t stop blushing. He just has this…grin. You know?”

Unbidden, Jack’s face flashes into my mind.

I bat it away with the thought of pizza for dinner. Pizza without Jack. His agreement to let me decide when we sleep together has, so far, bought me three days of peace, and I’m half anticipating
him
to call and call the shots. I already know he isn’t patient and doesn’t take crap, so I’m surprised he’s let it go this long.

Maybe I’ll call him tomorrow.

“Mace? Hello? You in there, girl?”

I blink sharply and nod. “Yep. Hey, what’s the time?”

“Three.”

“Awesome. I’m done here. Wait there a sec.” I go out to the back of the store and find my manager, Alice, in the office. I knock twice and poke my head around the door.

“Macey. You done, hon?”

“Yep. Just letting you know I’m leaving.”

“Okay. See you on Friday.”

“Bye.” I wave, grab my purse from the staff room, then go back down to see Ry lovingly eying up that teal set. “Get it,” I mutter, nudging her back.

“Ahhh…” She bites her lip. “Okay.”

Well, that took a whole lot of convincing.

I take the set from her and put it on the register. Julie smiles, scans, and takes my discount card without a word. We’re not supposed to use it for purchases of friends and family, but everyone does, so we all just ignore it. Even Alice ignores it.

“Thanks, Julie. Bye!” I wave, and as soon as we leave the store and turn the corner, I hand Ryann her bag.

“You’re the best.” She squeezes my shoulder. “So, did you call Jack yet?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to tonight?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel like sharing my pizza.”

Ryann laughs. “Right. Sex or a pizza to yourself. I can’t imagine what would be better.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously, don’t you have lines to go home and learn? Because you’re bugging me.”

She laughs again. “You want me to set you up again?”

“Yeah, why not? It worked so well last time.”

“First, you’re upset with Leah because she turned down sex on tap. Now, you got it and you’re refusing it. I don’t understand you.” She shakes her head and pulls her car keys from her pocket. “You drive here?”

“Yep.” I pull my keys from my purse. “Look, if I decide my pickle needs a tickle, I’ll call him, and then you, tomorrow, okay?”

“When you do.”

“If I do!” I call after her, narrowing my eyes.

Fuck me. I’m pretty sure my friends are more invested in my sex life than I am.

I stare at my phone.

Calling someone to bring pizza and have sex with me seems so…seedy. Like…the reason I told Jack I would call him is because, yes, I wanted to have control over when and where, but also because I didn’t want to feel like a cheap whore when he called.

Instead, I feel like a cheap pimp.

I nibble on the skin at the side of my thumbnail and stare at my phone some more.

It’s a really pretty phone.

If you ignore the scratch on the side casing.

Jesus—who am I kidding? I can no more call Jack Carr for sex than I can fly a space shuttle.

I drop backward onto the sofa and stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Ho-hum. I want sex. But not cheap sex. And I sure as hell don’t want pizza in exchange for sex.

Well, maybe. Kinda.

Maybe I was a guy in a past life.

I slap my hand over my face.
Tangent, Macey. Control the tangent urges.

Okay. I roll my shoulders and sit up straight. Then I lean immediately forward so my elbows are on my knees and my hands are cupping my chin. Wow. This mental thought train is productive. And helpful.

Right. That’s it. I’m just going to call for pizza.

I pick up the phone and go to “call,” but before I can punch the number in, the phone shrills loudly. I scream and answer it. “Oh, fuck me! Hello?”

“Is that an invitation?” Jack’s voice smoothly travels down the line.

“Ha. Ha, ha, ha,” I retort dryly. “Isn’t this breaking the rules?”

“Baby, you took so long to come to me that I thought I’d come to you instead.”

“Three days is hardly an age, Jack.”

“Tell that to my right hand.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered to be your jack-off material or offended.”

He sniggers. “Jack-off.”

I close my eyes. “I should have seen that one coming.”

“Yep. You shoulda.”

My buzzer rings.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”