Page 45 of Hot Doggin'
I don’t know. I don’t have any answers for that. All I know is that the feelings Mac stirs in me every time he touches me, every time we kiss, every time he looks at me like he is right now, like he wants to get out of here and go find a quiet corner to be alone with me, doesn't feel like a choice. The feelings feel inevitable. Undeniable. Like I‘m a prisoner of my desire for him, and I have no choice but to act on it.
Nash slaps my arm. “Did you hear me?”
Shaking off my thoughts, I give him my full attention. “What?”
“I asked if you want to share nachos with me. Brewer won’t eat them.”
“Of course. I love nachos.”
Mac is watching me again. I feel like he’s undressing me with his eyes. His piercing blue stare burns through me, and I feel hot all over.
“So when are you moving back to your apartment?” Nash asks. “They’ve got to be rid of the fleas by now.”
“I don’t know. I can’t get a hold of my landlord.” Total lie, but what am I supposed to say? Mac and I still haven’t discussed me moving back to my apartment. We’ve just fallen into a routine of living together that feels so comfortable, neither of us are in a hurry to put an end to it. I guess if we address it, we have to voice our reasons why we feel so comfortable. Maybe he’s not ready for that.
Am I ready for that?
Mac saves me with his answer. “There’s so much to do there. We’re just going to wait until after the holidays and everythingsettles down. We’ve got to wash everything and clean every surface. It’s a whole job.”
“Yeah, that.” Sounds like a plausible lie.
“Well, if you need help cleaning up, you can always call us. And by us, I mean Mandy,” Nash teases.
Mandy laughs. “Of course, I’ll help. Just say the word.”
Jax leans forward, adding his grumpy take. “You’re not sick of each other yet?”
Sick of each other? Not even a little bit. “Not yet. With Mac around, I’m never late for anything anymore.” Mac laughs at the joke, but his foot finds mine under the table. At least, I think it’s his. I’m not going to duck under and look.
He pushes his chair back. “Going to hit the head. I’ll be back.”
The parting look he shoots me is an unmistakable invitation to join him.
“I’ll be right back.” Excusing myself from the table, I follow Mac into the bathroom, and as soon as the door shuts behind us, I crowd him against the counter. His back against the sink.
“What’s with the way you’ve been watching me all night?” I confront him. His blue stare drops to my mouth, telling me exactly why he’s been watching me. “That your way of telling me you want my mouth on you?”
Mac smirks. “I wondered when you would get the message.”
His warm breath puffs over my lips. I can taste it, and I want to swallow it along with his tongue. Dipping my head, I brush my lips over his, softly, testing to see how badly he wants my kiss. Mac attacks, crushing his mouth against mine, his hands wrapping around the back of my head to pull me closer. He pushes his tongue into my mouth and I swallow it greedily. It’s a lot like the kiss on the couch that first time, where I can’t get enough of him, and I don’t need air, and I don’t need to breathe, I just need more.
More Mac.
The heat rises from zero to sixty in point-two seconds and my hard cock pushes against his. I could fuck him right now if we weren’t in this bathroom. Actually, maybe I could?—
The door swings open, and I push him away faster than we came together. It’s Pharo. He looks at us as if he can see right through us, as if he knows every secret in my head and my heart. His golden eyes narrow shrewdly.
Mac ducks down, looking into my mouth. “Yeah, it’s definitely a cavity. You need to have that checked with your dentist.” He straightens. “I’ll make an appointment for you.”
Pharo disappears into the stall, and I smack my hand against Mac's chest. “Close fucking call,” I whisper.
“Too close,” he agrees.
Just to make it seem like I have a reason to be here, I wash my hands at the sink, and Mac follows my lead, but we make sure to clear out of the bathroom before Pharo finishes. I don’t need those knowing eyes looking through my soul again.
When we return to our seats, the nachos are sitting in front of me and I dig in. Down the table, West and Brandt are arguing over whether or not to sing another song. Mandy and Rhett are debating what sauce they want on their wings. And Jax's eyes are on Pharo as he returns from the bathroom. Jax looks like he’s waiting for every step Pharo takes to be his last, as if he could wish it into existence. He always looks like that when he looks at Pharo. Whatever went down between them years ago, when Jax was under his command, must’ve been a real shit show because it’s lingered after all these years.
Fucking McCormick, with the way he’s staring at me as I eat this nacho, trying to catch all the stretched gooey cheese with my tongue. I’m ready to announce we’re getting the fuck out of here right now when the DJ calls us up.
