Working_Out (8 page)

Mac suddenly stood and cleared their plates.

“I’ll wash.” She moved to stand, but he barked at her to sit down. “Again. Do I really need to remind you I’m not a dog?”

“You know, there are so many ways I could take this conversation. But I don’t want to totally strike out. So I’m gonna put the dishes in the kitchen. You’re going to go sit in the living room, and we’ll finish up the night—”

“Getting naked?” There. She’d put her cards on the table. She wanted to have sex, so why not take what they both clearly wanted? Except the answer he gave her wasn’t what she’d anticipated.

“Watching the new detective movie on TV. And don’t even try acting like you don’t want to see it. I overheard you the other day talking to Shelby about it.” 

“You have big ears.” So no on the sex, but companionship and an agreement to watch a television movie she’d been looking forward to? The man paid attention to things she liked. How…odd.

She figured out which remote to use and how to use it just as he joined her. Before she could turn the channel, he plucked the remote from her hand and settled her right next to him, hip to hip. His body heat bled through to hers, though she’d have bitten her tongue before telling him how much she liked him sitting so close.

“I am not a doll. You can’t just twist me around and bend me ov—”

His laughter made her reconsider what she’d been about to say.

“Oh, shut up and watch the movie, Jameson.”

He whispered, “Mac,” then nipped her ear.

Her entire body warmed and her nipples hardened. She thought about asking him to skip the movie and move on to the main course—them, in bed. But he pulled his head back and broke the mood. Instead, he cuddled her against his chest and put his arm around her shoulder. The movie started, and they watched together.

Maggie felt comfortable, turned on yet content.

Content.
Such a strange feeling to put together with Mac Jameson, but there it was.

The movie droned on, and everything started to blur.

“Maggie, wake up.”

She blinked her eyes open to see the credits rolling on the screen. She immediately brushed her mouth.

His laughter vibrated through his broad chest. “Don’t worry. No drool. But you do snore a little. It’s cute.”

“I do not.” Her cheeks heated. “So tell me who did it. Was it the CEO’s niece or his stepson?”

“I’ll never tell.”

“Evil man.” She scooted out of his embrace and sought the bathroom. She returned moments later to see him standing by the door. He hadn’t been kidding about no sex.

Part of her liked him for simply spending the night with her, no strings attached. The other part of her worried he didn’t find her to his liking, despite the many times he’d flattered her.

“It’s late, and we have work tomorrow.”

“Problem with dating your boss is he’s all about the schedule.” She sighed. “But I am tired.”

She gave him another shot to make his move.

When he leaned closer, she felt a moment of relief. Predictable Mac. Her previous notions about the man hadn’t been that off the mark.

He placed a kiss on her
cheek
and then moved around her to the closet, where he fetched her jacket. He put it on her while she stared at him in confusion. Wait. He seriously intended to take her home?

“Come on,” he growled and dragged her into the bitterly cold night. The drive back to her apartment was over before it had begun, only the sound of classic rock breaking the silence between them. He pulled in front of the old Victorian house and idled the car.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, still not quite believing tonight had been so enjoyable or so nonsexual.
Should I invite him in? Is this part of the script?
He didn’t appear to be in a hurry to leave the car, yet he’d been adamant thus far to remain casual friends.

“No goodnight kiss?” he teased.

“I thought we did that at your house.”

“Please.” He huffed. “That peck on the cheek? Woman, I made you dinner. I didn’t spoil the ending of the movie,
and
I drove you home without molesting you. That’s got to be worth some tongue.”

She rolled her eyes. “First you don’t want sex, then you do?”

“It’s just a kiss.” His lips quirked in the moonlight. “Unless you’re afraid you won’t be able to control yourself.”

“Yeah, right. A kiss, you said. Okay, buddy. Pucker up.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid closer to him. Then she palmed his face, and a spark of desire raced through her at the contact. He closed his eyes, and she closed hers as she leaned closer to kiss him.

Maggie wanted to thank him for being such a gentleman at the same time she wanted to punish him for not making a move. How dare he be so
nice
?  All her assumptions about Mac Jameson had gone to the wayside. A womanizer? Maybe, but not a complete jerk. He didn’t muscle in on her or try to take advantage.

What the hell?

The kiss started soft until she traced his lips with her tongue. His hands moved to her shoulders, and she scooted closer, angling her mouth over his. She thrust her tongue between his lips, stroking his tongue with hers while she deepened the kiss.

Tingles lit her from her mouth all the way to her core, dampening her panties and making her want much more from the man.

He gripped her jacket and soon took charge of the kiss, drawing on her tongue and nipping at her lips while he intoxicated her with desire.

Mac Jameson would be hell on wheels in the sack…if she could get him there.

The bastard pulled away, panting. His eyes were darker blue, his mouth parted, slick, and sexy as hell.

“
Fuck.
You and I are definitely getting horizontal.”

“When?” she rasped, irked to have to follow
his
timetable. Her body screamed at her to straddle his hips slide over that thick shaft, taking it inside her where it would do the most good
.

“When?” he moaned. “I’d say right the hell now, but that negates my good behavior all evening.”

“Negates? Big word for you, Mac.”

He chuckled. “You’re looking frustrated, sweetheart.”

“Oh?” She unbuckled his seatbelt and gripped the bar in his pants, gratified by his hiss. “What’s this, then? A little of your own
frustration
for me?”

“Damn it. Let me go.”

But he thrust into her hand. Not the actions of a man not interested.

“Why don’t we end the night the way we ended last night?”

“What?”

She unbuttoned his fly, all the way down, while keeping her gaze on his. The need on his face exacerbated her arousal, to the extent she almost didn’t care that they were in his vehicle…in front of the house.

“Turn off the car.”

“Why?” he asked even as he turned the key and shut off the engine and lights.

The silence was broken by his low moan as she reached inside his boxer briefs and found him hard, his slit wet.

“You know why.” She leaned close to kiss him again and started pumping him.

He met her more than halfway, wrapping his hand around hers over his cock. Their groans mixed until he was bucking and she was stroking faster, harder.

“Fuck, yeah. I’m coming,” he moaned.

She pulled harder and felt the sticky jet of his desire all over her hand while he whispered her name. She leaned back from him and looked down, enthralled with his large cock covered in cum.

“You made a mess,” she teased and kissed his jaw.

“Shit.” He was breathing hard and leaned his head back against the head rest. His eyes closed, and he sat there, panting.

“For such a bully, you’re surprisingly sexy.” She rubbed his seed over his semi-hard cock, wondering when she’d finally feel him inside her. “Now we’re even.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Even?”

“For last night.”

“Hell, no. We’re not even.” He tugged her hand from his cock and cleaned them both with a few tissues he grabbed from the tissue box on the floor. “I gave you an orgasm last night, and I made you dinner tonight. One measly orgasm from you is way less than I deserve.”

She frowned while he buttoned up. “Measly? Nothing small about the mess you made in your lap. I’d say that was a whopper of an orgasm. Heck. You owe me another dinner for that handjob.”

He just stared at her.

“What?”

“Hearing you say handjob. That innocent face and the sex talk. I’m hard again.”

“Shut up.” She blushed. “Well, I suppose I should get going. My boss is an ogre, and if I’m late tomorrow, he’ll probably fire me.”

“Not if you blow him in the office. You know how many fantasies I’ve had of you on your knees, or bending you over my desk and—”

“
Goodnight
, Mac.” She scooted away and yanked on the door handle.

He stopped her before she could leave. “For the record, we’re not even. When I’m coming deep inside you and you’re crying out my name? Then we’ll be even.”

“Well when will that be?” she asked, annoyed he seemed to be toying with her. “Why wait? Let’s just get it over with.” She wanted to end her sexual dormancy with the man, and he didn’t seem to be getting the hint.

“Get it over with?” He scowled. “Seriously, Doran. You need help with that attitude. Make sure to wear something tight tomorrow.”

Interesting how natural it felt to revert to their previous roles as combatants. She liked that she felt at ease with him. After their recent intimacy, she would have thought she’d be blushing and stammering. Yet Mac made it all seem normal to be so close to him. “Don’t be an ass, Jameson.”

“It’s okay, honeybuns. I’m
your
ass for the time being.” He smiled and wiggled his brows. “Now get inside. It’s cold out. And don’t be late tomorrow.”

She left the car and slammed the door on his laughter. But he was right. It was cold outside. She hustled inside her apartment and locked the door behind her. Then she peered through her curtains, not surprised he’d waited until he’d seen her inside before he left.

Mac Jameson. An ass. A dictator. A skilled lover. A true puzzle she had every intention of figuring out.
Because he’s a potential friend with benefits and nothing more.

And wasn’t that what she wanted? No more emotional pitfalls, just a sexy man with whom she could end her dry spell. So why did she sense her date with Mac as the beginning of so much more?

Chapter Six

Mac thought he’d done an impressive job by holding out last night. He hadn’t jumped Maggie when he’d seen her wearing those form-hugging jeans and pretty pink tee. When she’d fallen asleep on him, he’d been the perfect gentleman, even though her breasts had been pressing into his side and giving him the hard-on from hell.

And even when she’d come on to him in the SUV, he hadn’t done more than let her handle him, when every cell in his body had demanded
he
take charge, put her in the back of the vehicle, and fuck the shit out of her.

He blew out a breath.
So far, so good, Jameson.

As the morning flew by and Maggie did no more than scowl at him before tending to her class, Mac felt on even keel once more. Though the day passed by with agonizing slowness, he didn’t feel as if he’d damaged their relationship, such as it was. He got hives just thinking about the R word, but with Maggie, he defined it as a friendship first, one that would hopefully lead to some fucking incredible sex. He just needed to layer the trust between them, to see if the subtle submissive vibes he’d sensed rang true.

For all that the woman lashed out at him like a Doberman, she obeyed at the oddest times, when she should have been protesting his control. Telling her what to do concerning their date? Taking charge of her climax the other night? She’d melted for him. And he just knew she’d be perfect on her knees, obeying him.

That’s
if
he could get her there.

Stubborn thing would make him work to own her. Yet he looked forward to the challenge. Nothing worth having in life had ever been easy. And sure as shit, Maggie Doran screamed
difficult
.

He watched her leave work, heard more chatter about her fine ass, and did his best to steer clear of the women who tended to want more of his attention than he felt comfortable giving.

Normally he didn’t mind their flattery. He admitted it soothed his bruised ego, considering Maggie hadn’t come on to him before he’d made his move. Knowing she’d been celibate helped cool his ardor, but not by much. After their last two days spent with each other, he knew he could seal the deal and make a memory with her he’d never forget.

Yet he didn’t think he’d given them enough time to really know each other. The woman thought he had trust issues? Learning she’d been abandoned as a kid offered some valuable insight. Shelby had been less than forthcoming, and Shane’s knowledge of the blond beauty was limited to what Shelby had shared with him, which wasn’t much more than what Mac had already known. Mac’s future lover had an older brother named Trevor. She worked at an art gallery called The Beholder for a woman named Kim. She designed paper sculptures and worked part time teaching aerobics to make ends meet.