Page 37 of Long Shot

“Good luck.” Cam winked as she sent the elevator back to the lobby.

Alone in the hallway, Mac took a deep breath as she lifted her hand to the door. She gently rapped against the door.

From inside, soft footsteps crossed the floor toward the door.

Taylor swung the door open, a sexy smile playing at her lips. “Hey, Bennett.”

Mac couldn’t stop herself from smiling when Taylor’s voice hit her ears. “Hi, Young.”

Turning back into the apartment, Taylor flung the door open for Mac to enter. Only when Taylor was walking away did Mac let her eyes scan Taylor’s outfit. She wore a slinky red, silk dress. It fell off of her hips like water off oil. Her heels clicked against the polished wood floors as she walked down the hallway. With each step, the red bottoms peeked out from the black pumps.

Mac felt wrong walking on such gorgeous floors with her city-worn dress shoes. But she wasn’t about to let Taylor have such a major height advantage.

As Taylor entered the living room, she glanced over her shoulder at Mac. Her blonde hair fell off her shoulders and downthe exposed skin of her back. Mac’s throat tightened at the sight, wanting to place her lips on the tender skin.

Trying to shake herself out of it, Mac looked at the art on the walls. The hallway alone was lined with dozens of pieces.

Mac laughed. “I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure these weren’t the pieces hung up here when Architectural Digest came by.”

Taylor chuckled as she disappeared behind a wall. “No, Kim made me put the gay sex art away for that. But I collect it.”

“Art’s a good investment.” Mac bit her lip as she looked at a Hannah Hoch piece. Three pairs of eyes collaged against the body parts of women in magazines. Although she hadn’t spent a lot of time looking at traditional art, Mac couldn’t stop herself from looking.

After a minute, Taylor reappeared from around the corner with an old fashioned hand. She held it out toward Mac, inviting her to take the benerage.

Mac laughed and sauntered down the hallway. Her dress shoes clicked against the floor as she met Taylor in the living room. But before she could grab the drink, Mac’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit, Taylor.”

She walked past the stunning blonde, looking out the massive windows instead. Outside, a private terrace opened to an endless view of Central Park and upper Manhattan.

Taylor shrugged. “I thought you saw the magazine.”

Mac shook her head. “Yeah but this is… a picture couldn’t capture this”. She couldn’t count the time she’d looked up at buildings just like this and wondered what the view from inside looked like.

Sidling up, Taylor put the cold drink in Mac’s hand. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Make yourself at home.”

Mac nodded. The sound of Taylor’s heels drew her eyes from one view to another. Taylor’s ass looked incredible. Her five inchheels drew Mac’s eye from her muscular calves to her toned thighs and plump ass. Mac licked her lips, her body following Taylor without being told to.

The apartment was stunning, as if no one lived there. Mac stopped in front of the wall of trophies in the dining room.

Taylor chuckled. “You’ll have a wall like that soon.”

Mac shook her head. “Is that so? I thought you had notes on my game.”

“Well, I do.” Taylor went back to the kitchen. “And if you listen, like a good girl, you’ll be a champion.”

Scoffing, Mac walked into the kitchen. “Seems like someone’s been plenty good.” The kitchen cabinets were a warm, yellowish wood. The gold handles – which might have looked tacky anywhere else – felt seamless in this space. Four pans steamed on the stove. A sweet smell filled Mac’s nose.

“Jesus, I didn’t know you could cook.” Mac waltzed over to the food and peeked into the pots. “At camp, you barely knew how to make a PB&J.”

Taylor, with a wood spatula in hand, rolled her eyes. “It’s an off-season hobby.”

Mac leaned on the marble island and rested her chin in her hands. “Does going to Michelin star restaurants get boring?”

Grabbing a piece of bread from beside the stove, Taylor chucked a piece at Mac. “Maybe it does, asshole.” Taylor brought her attention back to the pots, simmering and splattering behind her.

“You know, I really thought you’d hire a cook and claim it was you.” Mac sat in a bar stool and crossed her arms. She knew it was one of her best poses, the muscles in her forearm flexing and creating a picturesque line for Taylor to ogle.

Taylor shook her head. “You just missed them. I’m surprised you didn’t catch the fifty person team in the elevator.”

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