Page 24 of Calling the Shots

“Okay, okay.” I hold my hands up in surrender, palms in the air. Bending down, I scoop up my sweatshirt and toss it over my head, uncomfortable being naked in front of him right now. Way too vulnerable.

Together, we pad to the front door. I shift awkwardly from foot to foot, not really sure what to say.

See you around?

Thanks for the sex?

Luckily, Mack swoops in and saves me from saying anything embarrassing. Instead, he grips me by the hips and kisses me one last time.

“Night, Firecracker.”

Then he lets himself out and I sink my forehead against the cool wood, deflated.

“Lock the door, baby.” His muffled voice drifts through the door and I do as he asks, sliding the deadbolt into place. Only then do I hear the shuffling of his footsteps as he walks away.

A few seconds later, a chirp sounds from across the dark living room. I saunter over, picking up my cell.

Mack: Good girl

Despite my disappointment, those words ooze through my veins like warm, reassuring honey. Some warped primal pleasing instinct I wish I didn’t have, but clearly do.

I’m one twisted sister, that’s for sure. The man didn’t even stay the night with me and deep-down, I still care what he thinks of me.

So much for feminism.

Just to fuck with him, I tap out a teasing text back.

Gracelyn: Thanks, Daddy

Mack: You trying to get me to come back right now?

Mack: Because you’re turning me on again

I smile down at the screen. Good, I hope he has a raging hard-on the whole drive home and regrets leaving very, very much.

Gracelyn: Perfect

Gracelyn: Remember me when you’re alone tonight

Mack: Like I could forget you, baby girl

I squint at the words, trying to figure Mack out. If I’m that memorable, that desirable, why didn’t he stay? We could have chatted late into the night, learning about each other. Sharing funny stories, cuddling and kissing. Maybe fucking again.

Instead, he left, chipping away a tiny piece of my already-tender heart in the process.

Deciding to let it go for tonight, I tap out one last quick flirtatious text before plugging in my phone.

Gracelyn: Night, Daddy

Mack doesn’t let me down. Five seconds later, my phone dings.

Mack: Night, baby girl

Smiling, I skip to my bedroom and toss my phone on the nightstand, peeling my sweatshirt off and climbing back into bed naked. I burrow into the pillows, the spicy scent of Mack and sex clinging to the rumpled cotton sheets. A few seconds later, I’m fast asleep, dreaming of a particularly sexy carpenter.

CHAPTER9

MACK

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