MacNamaras Lady

Chapter Seven

“The referee needed glasses.” The game was long over but they were still arguing the calls as she drove T.S. across town to pick up his truck, which was still parked down the road from Lucas’ place. He loved the way she’d gotten into the game when it was obvious from the start she hadn’t wanted to even watch it.

“He made the right call.” T.S. sat in the passenger seat, totally relaxed. Spending the day with Missy had been a lot of fun. He never spent much time with a woman, not unless it was a prelude to getting her into bed. And today hadn’t been about that.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to have sex with Missy again, because he most certainly did. But today had been about her resting and relaxing.

She’d been through an ordeal and needed coddling. Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to tell her that. She was a strong woman who hated to admit to any weakness. He admired that about her. Could relate to it.

He knew she’d wanted him to leave. He should have been thankful she didn’t want to cling, didn’t want to prolong the morning-after, which could sometimes be awkward. Once breakfast was done he should have said his goodbyes and left. Surprisingly enough, he hadn’t wanted to.

She’d immediately caved when he’d mentioned he needed help changing his bandage, which she’d done before the game started. By that time there’s been no mention of him leaving until the game was over.

He didn’t feel the least bit guilty about playing the sympathy card. They’d both enjoyed the afternoon—the football, the pizza and the company. Missy was easy to be with. Opinionated and funny, she’d known a lot more about the game than he’d anticipated, given she’d been so resistant to watching it in the first place.

“So you say.”

“You know I’m right.” He couldn’t resist goading her.

“I know you’re deluded enough to think you are, MacNamara.”

He laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun with a woman. “I’m the football expert.”

She sniffed disdainfully. “I’ll have you know I’ve probably seen more games than you have.”

“Is that so?”

“I was a cheerleader all through high school. College too. I know a good call from a bad one.”

“You were a cheerleader?” Oh yeah, he could easily imagine her long, slender body in one of those cute little outfits while she jumped around. She’d been sexy as hell.

“That’s all you got from that statement?” She pulled her car in behind his truck.

“What can I say? My male mind kinda stalled at cheerleader.”

Missy put the car in park and burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

“But you like me.” He leaned over and kissed her square on the lips. She froze but quickly thawed and got into the kiss. Damn, but she made him hotter than a seventeen-year-old with a girl in the backseat of his daddy’s car. Not that T.S. had ever borrowed his dad’s car as a teen. His dad had split when he was four. He barely even remembered the guy. The closest he’d come was driving his older brother’s beater and the one time he’d tried to impress a girl in that car had led to disaster.

He shut out the past. It was easy to do, especially when the present was much more pleasurable. Plus, he’d had a lot of practice. He didn’t talk about his past. Ever.

He eased back. Missy’s eyes were closed. Her lips were soft and damp and slightly parted. Her breathing was erratic. She was as turned on as he was by the simple caress. “Why don’t you follow me back to my place?”

He wasn’t sure why he’d issued the invitation. He’d told himself their time together was done. But he wasn’t quite ready for that yet, hadn’t worked her out of his system.

“Okay.”

He hadn’t been expecting her easy agreement and was inordinately pleased by it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Follow me and don’t get lost.” He dropped another quick kiss on her lips before quickly climbing out of her car, making certain to lock the door behind him. He hurried to his truck and signaled to Missy when he was ready. He drove slowly, making it easy for her to stay with him as they traversed the streets of Chicago.

It usually only took about twenty minutes to get home from Lucas’, but it took a bit longer as they’d stopped at a local pharmacy so he could get his prescriptions filled and pick up some supplies for bandaging his wound.

Finally, they arrived at his place. His apartment was on the top floor of a refurbished brownstone in an older section of the city. It had been a slum more than twenty years ago, but was now a blue-collar neighborhood. He liked it here. He also owned the building. Not many people knew that. He had buildings all over the area that he’d bought cheap and turned into affordable housing for regular families.

He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. He loved coming home. This building had been his first. He’d created a home for himself, as well as a source of income.

He climbed out and waited as Missy walked up the short driveway. “What do you think?”

She studied the older building that he’d lovingly restored. He’d spent more money than he should have on this one, but he’d known he was going to live here and that had made the extra cost worth it. “It’s lovely.”

His shoulders straightened and he felt proud as a peacock. Not that he needed her approval, but he wanted her to like his home. “Let me show you the inside.” He ushered her up the three steps to the front door. He unlocked it and stepped inside. There was a closed door with a brass knocker off to the right. “There are four apartments in the place. Two small ones on this floor, and one large one on each of the next two floors. I have the one on the third floor.”

“The penthouse,” she teased.

“Exactly.”

Missy ran her fingers over the oak banister as they walked up the stairs. “This place is really something. My building is new and clean, but it’s generic. This is…special.”

“I think so.” He unlocked the door to his apartment and ushered her inside. The foyer opened up right into the living area of his home. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable with a leather sectional, a big screen television and several chairs. A large bookcase flanked one wall, displaying books and art pieces he’d collected over time.

“This is really nice.” Missy kicked off her shoes and wandered into the room, trailing her fingers over the back of the sofa.

His balls drew up tight as he watched her fingers stroke the soft leather. He wanted those fingers on his body, specifically on his cock. “Glad you think so.”

She shot him a grin as she took off her coat. “More settled, less frat boy than I imagined.”

“What can I say? I’m fairly domesticated.” He toed off his shoes and hung up the ruined tuxedo jacket he’d worn home. He’d worn it more for warmth than anything else. He was going to have to buy the damn thing from the rental place. The pants weren’t in much better shape than the jacket.

He’d deal with that tomorrow. For now, he was happy to be home and have Missy here with him. He walked into the kitchen and noticed the answering machine was blinking. He hadn’t been home since Saturday afternoon so he’d probably missed quite a few calls. He didn’t worry, though. Anyone with an emergency could have reached him on his cell.

He hit the button and waited. Two hang-ups, a couple of telemarketers, but the final message was from his mom. “Theo, are you home? I hate talking to machines,” she muttered. “Call me.”

He sensed Missy behind him, her curiosity as she joined him. His hope that she’d missed the message was dashed when she smiled. “Theo, huh?”

“Don’t start.” He wagged a finger at her.

“Is it short for Theodore?”

“No, it’s not.”

“What does the S stand for?”

God, she looked gorgeous standing there with a huge smile on her face while she teased him about his name. She’d changed before they’d left her place. She’d pulled on a faded pair of jeans that molded to her long, lean legs and clung to her curves. She’d paired it with a soft, blue sweater that just hit the waistband of her jeans. T.S. kept watching it, hoping it would rise up and show a dark swathe of her stomach.

“I’m not telling.”

She walked two fingers up his chest. “Come on, tell me.” She pouted, bringing his attention to her mouth, specifically her slightly moist lips. She’d slicked some kind of gloss on them before they’d left her place. Made them look even more lush than usual. He wanted to lick them. His cock twitched and his balls drew up tighter.

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I was named after both my grandfathers on my mother’s side. Unfortunately, neither of them had very good names. I’ve got to make a quick call.”

Reluctantly, he released her hand and reached for the phone. His mother would worry if he didn’t call her. She’d already lost one son. Cameron had died as he’d lived. Violently. Caught in a prison fight with someone bigger and meaner than himself.

T.S. dialed and waited while the phone rang. It was picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mama. You looking for me?”

“Theo.” The way she said his name made his chest tighten. No matter what had happened in his life, his mother had always been there for him. “You didn’t call, so I worried.”

He always called his mother on Saturday. With everything that had happened it had slipped his mind. “Sorry about that. But I told you I had the wedding to go to this weekend.”

“How was it? That Lucas is such a good boy. Such a hard worker.” He grinned. Only his mother would call Lucas Squires a boy. “The wedding was great.” He chatted for a few more minutes, very aware of Missy watching him and listening while trying desperately to appear like she wasn’t.

“Listen, Mama. I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” It took another minute to get off the phone, but his mother was reassured and happy. That was all that mattered to him.

Missy was perched on his kitchen countertop, her expression was…sad. That was the only word he could come up with to describe it. Maybe wistful. Melancholy. “Everything okay?”

She nodded, but didn’t look any more convinced than he was. “You and your mom are close.”

It wasn’t a question but he answered her anyway. “Yeah, we are. It’s just her and me now. My dad split when I was little more than a baby. My brother died about ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It is what it is.” He didn’t want to talk about it. “How about you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not close to my family at all.”

Now he was curious. He walked over and crowded her until she parted her legs to make room for him. He rested his hands on the countertop, effectively caging her in. “Any brothers or sisters?”

Her features tightened with anger. “Two brothers. Both older. But I haven’t seen them in years. One sister. We exchange Christmas cards and talk once or twice a year.”

“That’s too bad.”

“It is what it is.” She threw his words back at him. “We weren’t close when we were kids so it’s nothing new.”

And it was time to drop the subject, especially if he hoped to coax her into his bed, which he most certainly did. He leaned forward and nuzzled her neck. “You smell good, like summer.” And she did. Whatever soap or lotion or perfume she used permeated her skin. It was a subtle fragrance, not overpowering.

He left a trail of kisses as he worked his way up to her ear. The short hairstyle she wore left it exposed. She wore a tiny diamond stud in her lobe. Very sexy. He captured it between his teeth and tugged gently. She gasped and some of the tension fled her body.

Using his tongue, he traced the whorls of her ear. “You’re so damn sexy. I love those high heels you wear all the time.”

“Really?” He could hear the disbelief in her voice.

“Really. Why would you think otherwise? They make your legs look hot.”

She gave a muffled laugh. “Most men complain about them. They don’t like being shorter than me.”

“Most men are idiots.” He nibbled on her jawline.

She laughed again. Damn but he loved the sound, husky and deep. His dick liked it too. The damn thing was standing at attention, ready to rock and roll. “I agree.”

“But not me.” He captured her lips in a torrid kiss. Wet heat surrounded his tongue as he thrust it into her mouth. She sucked on it, making a hot little mewling sound in the back of her throat.

T.S. captured her hips in his hands and pulled her to the edge of the counter, grinding her pelvis against him. The height was wrong for what he wanted, so he lifted her.

Her legs automatically closed around him, her arms winding around his neck. Oh yeah, this was what he wanted. Chest to chest, his cock pressed against her mound. He shoved her up against the wall for support as he continued to plunder her incredible mouth. Their tongues twined and their teeth clinked several times as they tried to get even closer.

He had to have her. Now.

He tore his mouth from hers. “Missy.” He wanted to say so much more but could only get her name out before he had to kiss her again. They were both panting hard when he leaned back. This time he reached for her top. She helped him by raising her arms.

“Fuck me.” The words came out more as adulation than a curse. She wasn’t wearing a bra beneath her sweater. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he savored the sight of her firm breasts. Her skin was like dark chocolate, smooth and sweet. He bent his head and lapped at one puckered nipple.

Missy laughed. “No, fuck me.” Her laugh turned to a moan when he tugged on her nipple. She pulled on his shirt, careful not to jar his injured arm. “You need to take this off.”

Absolutely. He was totally on board with that suggestion. He teased her other nipple with his teeth and tongue, drawing another moan from her before he decided it was time for him to lose some of his clothing and more of hers.

Her feet hit the ground and she steadied herself. T.S. didn’t waste any time. He yanked off the hated green scrub top. The damn thing was going in the garbage. He never wanted to see it again.

Missy didn’t hesitate. She moved in quick, using her wicked mouth on him. Her hands caressed his torso while her tongue flicked at his flat nipples. It was his turn to moan. Damn, she turned him on so quick it was crazy.

He went to work on her jeans, flipping open the button and easing down the zipper. He eased his hands past the waistband and lower to cup her rounded butt. The panties she was wearing were little barrier against his touch. He couldn’t wait to get them off her.

First, he had to kiss her again. Taste her. He squeezed her ass as he delved into her mouth. Exploring. Claiming.

Her hands were everywhere—shoulders, biceps, stomach, back. She was careful of his wounded arm. He could have told her it didn’t matter. Sure the injury hurt but he didn’t care. Having her hands on him was more important. Besides, that’s what painkillers were for and he’d take one later if he needed to.

Everywhere she touched him his skin tightened, wanting more. Her nails dug into his back, the sting an erotic caress.

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.