Immersion Playground
Book #3: Flight to Paradise
Chapter 8
Mac's eyes flutter open and he looks around the slowly brightening room, the room's window slowly growing clear to allow in more light. He yawns, wanting to stretch, but not wanting to disturb Kate lying close beside him. When he'd gone to sleep last night she'd still been lying on his chest, but now she's on his left side, tucked in tight, an arm and leg still thrown over him.
Unable to stand it anymore he stretches, trying to move as little as possible, but she feels the movement in her sleep, muttering a barely understandable, "No..." before snuggling in closer.
While he would willingly spend the next several hours in bed with her, right now he has to urinate. He carefully slips out from under her arm and leg, Kate waking enough to try to hold him in the bed before letting him go. He picks up his leg, taking a moment to prepare himself before making the connection. He jams his leg into the socket, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth against the pain.
When he exits the bathroom, she's already back asleep. He briefly considers crawling into bed and waking her up, but decides what he needs to do is workout, a chore he neglected several times while in LA. He quietly dresses in one of his workout uniforms, gym shorts and a loose t-shirt, and pads down the hall to his workout room. He spends an hour on the resistance machine then spends another thirty minutes on the cardio machine. Normally he alternates, doing resistance one day for strength and muscle tone, the cardio for endurance the next, but his new leg feels so damn good he just has to try it out on the elliptical.
After his workout he enters his room hot, tired, bathed in sweat, and feeling wonderful, his new leg identical in every measurable way to his own. He looks at the neatly made bed in disappointment. Had Kate still been there he'd have tried to coax her into joining him for another workout. Not finding her in his bathroom, he crosses the hall to the guest room. The door is open, so he enters.
"Kate?" he quietly calls.
"In here," her voice answers from the bathroom.
He stops in the bathroom doorway, watching her brush her hair, already bathed and dressed. "I thought you wanted breakfast in bed," he says leaning against the jamb.
"You weren't there," she says with a smile, the brush never slowing.
"I'm here now."
"Yes, but now I'm presentable..." the brush stops moving as she looks him over, "... and you most assuredly, are not."
He laughs, standing up. "Okay. Fine. Let me see if I can fix that. We'll go have brunch, somewhere, and stop by the market on the way back so I can feed you properly tonight. Then we can go swimming if you like. I want to try out the new leg in the water."
"Swimming in the lake?" she asks, trying to remember if she's ever been swimming in a lake.
"Nowhere but."
"I didn't bring my suit—"
"Perfect!" he interrupts.
"—and I'm not going skinny dipping."
He pooches out his bottom lip in a comical pout. "Well, damn. Fine. After brunch, swimsuit, then the market, then swimming."
"Mac, I already have two or three suits at home. I don't need another one."
"Yes, but I'm buying this one, and it can stay here for when you need it," he says, closely watching her reaction.
She recognizes that he's testing her, trying to see if she's going to react the same way she did at the dress shop, but her demons are quiet this morning. "I can buy it myself, Mac. You don't have to do that."
"I know, Kate, but if I pay for it, don't I get a little say in what it looks like?"
She smiles at him. "Okay. If you pay for it, you can have a little say in what it looks like. Are you sure you want to pay for it? What if I don't come back?"
His smile slowly fades. "If that's the case, I think that spending a few bucks on a swimsuit that won't be used again will be the least of my disappointment."
She watches his smile fade. He really did look like he would be disappointed if she didn't come back. She offers him a sweet little smile. "Well, I wouldn't want you to be disappointed. Now go get cleaned up. We have a lot to do today and we're not getting it done with you standing in here bothering me while I get ready."
His smile returns, but not with the same enthusiasm as before. "Okay. Give me twenty minutes and I'll be ready to go."
He turns to go, but stops and turns back, leaning down to give her noisy smooch on the lips, holding his sweaty body away from hers. "I'm glad you don't want to disappoint me," he says before leaving to shower and dress.
She watches him go, then resumes brushing her hair. No, I really don't want to disappoint him, or myself, by not coming back.
***
As he slips on his boxers after his shower, he notices that the bottom is dangerously close to the mounting band of his leg. Examining the length in a mirror, he recalls Abby's warning that the leg would automatically adjust its color to match the skin tone just above it. He didn't have to worry about that with his old leg as he used a series of stains as needed to lighten or darken the artificial skin so it matched his other leg, but this new leg would do that automatically. On impulse, he removes his boxers and tries on his swimsuit. The bottom of the right leg is above the mount band, but just. Smoothing the fabric, he thinks a moment and then decides they'd be buying two suits today, one for Kate and one for himself.
Clean and dressed, he finds Kate in the main room staring out at the lake. "Some view, isn't it? I never get tired of looking at it," he says, stepping in close behind her.
She starts slightly at his words before turning to face him. "It is lovely. I wouldn't get anything done if I had that view to look at all the time." She looks him over, neatly turned out in long pants and a light shirt. "Don't you ever wear shorts?"
"No. Why?"
"Because this is California. Everyone wears short," she says motioning to her own attire.
"I don't think I have any shorts."
"You don't have any shorts? None? Well, you will after today."
"Oh, I will, will I?" he asks with a brief chuckle.
"We're going shopping for a swimsuit today, remember?"
"I remember. It's just as well. I tried on my suit. It's too long. I need a new one."
"Too long?"
"Yeah. The new leg adjusts its color to the skin above it. My swimsuit hangs too low and covers the mount," he says, rubbing his leg with the side of his hand at the height of the mount band so she can see. "I don't want the artificial leg to be pasty white when the other one is tanned because my swimsuit covers the skin there."
"Oh, I get it," she says. So, Mac needs a small, tight swimsuit? She'll be delighted to help him pick that out, but the shorts are going to be a problem. He would look silly in shorts that short. "That presents a problem for the shorts, so I guess you're off the hook there."
"Good. I'd look silly in shorts."
"No, you'd look damn sexy in shorts. Unless one leg is white and the other is brown, then you'd look silly in shorts."
He chuckles as he takes her arm and gently steers her toward the garage. "I'm glad we agree." As they enter the garage, he raises the doors behind the Mercedes and the Ford. "Which vehicle do you want to take?"
She doesn't care, a car is a car. "It doesn't matter. Whichever you prefer, but what's that, under there?" she asks, nodding at the cloth covered car she noticed yesterday.
He steps to the shape and begins pulling the cover off an old car. "This was my grandfather's car." The car is perfect, mint in every detail.
"What's it?" she asks. She doesn't know anything about cars, but she recognizes that this is one is stunning.
"It's a 1999 BMW M5 in the original Oxford Green." He pauses, admiring the car once again. "This car used to be the most beautiful thing in the garage," he says, looking away from the car to stare at her.
She pulls her attention away from the car to look at him, not understanding what he's inferring, until she sees the way he's looking at her. She begins to blush at the compliment. She gets many compliments on her appearance, and has long stopped blushing when she receives one, but for some reason, his complement means more to her than most.
"It's a beautiful car. Why can't they make cars that look like this anymore?"
"Because back then they were styled by master craftsmen with love. Now they're all styled by computer."
She sighs, moving to the Ford, the closer of the two cars. "I guess this is fine," she says opening the passenger door.
"Oh, hell no! You made me uncover it. It's the rule. If I uncover it, I have to drive it," he says wadding up the cover and tossing it in a basket on the floor, obviously placed there for that purpose.
Kate hesitates, one foot in the SUV. "Do you mind?" she asks, stepping out and closing the door.
"I'd only mind if you won't go in it now that I have it uncovered," Mac says walking to a key peg by the door and lifting off a set of keys while at the same time lowering the garage door and raising the door behind the BMW.
"Let me see if it'll start. I haven't had it out in a long time." He sits in the car, one leg still on the garage floor and gives the key a twist. The car turns over slowly, the battery obviously weak, but after a couple of turns the V8 rumbles to life. "You have to love German engineering," he says with a smile. "Car hasn't been started in almost a year and yet it starts right up. Good thing you came. Another few months and the battery would have been dead." He offers her a smile. "You know what this means don't you?"
"What?"
"It means we're going to have to take the long way to town so the battery can charge." He leaves the car running and steps out and opens the passenger door for her. "You coming, or do I have to go by myself?" he asks peering at her over the top of the car.
She beams and hurries to the car and slides in, the creamy leather feeling delicious on the back of her legs.
He walks back around to the driver's side and squeezes in. The car, while not small, is a little snug for him. He slips the car into reverse and, blipping the throttle just to hear the V8 bark and growl, eases the car out of the garage.
"What's that?" she asks pointing to a stalk between the seats.
"What? This?" he asks giving the stalk a little wiggle.
"Yeah. I've never seen a car with one of those."
He turns the car around and creeps it down the driveway long curving driveway. "It's the gear lever. You've never seen a car with a stick shift before?"
"I guess not. What's it do, besides select forward and reverse?"
He pulls onto the road and stops. "This!"
He floors the throttle and dumps the clutch, causing the car to leap forward, the car crabbing sideways like a scared cat as the rear tires claw for grip on the slightly damp pavement. The minute the car hits the redline, he bangs the car into second, the rear tires once again howling in protest as the engine's power overcomes the grip, the V8 roaring its fury.
She begins to shriek in terror when he mats the throttle and the car tries to go sideways, the shriek turning to a squeal of delight as the scrabbling tires find grip and the car begins to rocket down the road, squeezing her back in her seat. He snicks the car into third, the BMW finding its legs now, pulling hard as the approaching corner draws closer with frightening speed. She plants both feet against the floor, willing the car to slow, but he keeps the power on, the car's acceleration still pressing her hard into her seat. Just as she closes her eyes, preparing to meet her death when the car careens off the corner, she feels herself being thrown forward, a small grunt escaping her as the seat belt bites into her, holding her in place.
He knows this section of road like he knows his own face. Despite her squeals he keeps the power on, giving the car its head as he bears down on the first corner. Because the road is a bit damp, and he didn't want to scare her too much, he jumps on the brakes just as the car nudges eighty, quickly bleeding off speed before entering the turn at a comfortable forty miles-per-hour.
"You asshole! You scared the shit out of me!" Kate cries as the car enters the turn, but her smile says something different.
"If you made a stain in my seat you are going to have to clean it up," he says with a grin, looking at her as the car exits the corner. "Be honest. You liked it didn't you?"
"Okay. I did like it. A little," she says, her smile growing wider.
"A little?" Mac asks in mock surprise. "I haven't heard you squeal like that since, well, last night actually," he says with twinkle in his eye and a sarcastic grin.
She looks away giggling after giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. "I didn't like it that well. There's being taken for a ride, then there's being taken for a ride!"
He makes so many twists and turns as he works his way from the lake, she finally has to consult the net for a map to tell where she is. The area surrounding the lake is mostly parks and recreation areas with only a few homes scattered in clusters here and there, and Kate is surprised when they arrive in Paradise, seemingly in the middle of nowheresville one moment, and in town the next. Mac turns the car onto a major thoroughfare before pulling off into a small outdoor mall of upscale shops, parking the car away from most of the other cars.
"You ready to shop?" he asks opening his door and unfolding from the car.
"Mac, honey, I was born to shop," she teases.
As they wander along the shops, he surprises her by tugging her into a shop selling sunglasses and other outdoor supplies. Stopping her in front of the sunglass counter he slips several teardrop shaped sunglasses on her, trying them on for size.
"What do you think?" he asks while holding a mirror up in front of her.
"They're fine, but why do I need another pair of sunglasses?"
"If you're going to be a pilot, you have to look the part," he says simply, slipping the glasses from her face and handing her pair back to her. He hands the glasses to the clerk that's assisting them, and she nearly has a heart attack at the price of the glasses. Her sunglasses cost almost two-hundred dollars, but these are more than twice that amount.
"Why are they so expensive?" she hisses as he completes the transaction.
"Quality costs money. These glasses are made like mine, with memory metal. You can tie them in a knot, then warm them up, and they will pop right back into shape. Plus, the lenses are made of some kind of material that you can't scratch, break or smudge. Basically, they're the last pair of sunglasses you'll ever have to buy." He takes the glasses and case from the clerk and hands them to her. "Not to mention they make you look sexy as hell," he whispers as they walk out of the store.
"Oh really?" she purrs, removing her sunglasses and replacing them with the new pair. "What do you think?" she asks, looking at him.
"I think pilot chicks are hot," he says with a wink, causing her to trill out a throaty laugh, his comment making her feel powerful and sexy.
Rounding a corner, she sees a casual clothing store for women. She pulls him into the store where she spends the next fifteen minutes selecting three different bikini style bathing suits to try on, ranging in size from average to nearly nonexistent. She slips into a changing area and emerges in the middle size suit, a splashy orange and white number that doesn't leave much to the imagination.
"So? What do you think?"
"Nice," he says appreciatively. "Very nice indeed."
"Hang on. I have a couple more to try." She returns to the changing booth and changes into the most conservative of the three suits, though no one would call any of them anything other than revealing.
He watches her steps out of the booth in a black bikini that, while covering more of her than the first, left the rest of her exposed in a most appealing way. "Wow! I like that one too," he says enthusiastically.
She says nothing, grinning at him, before returning to the changing booth where she tries on the most revealing of the three. She has no intention of buying this one, but she wanted to see his reaction. Feeling a little too close to nude, she steps out of the booth.
He watches her exit the booth in nearly nothing. While the suit did have a certain appeal, it reveals too much, leaving too little for the imagination, for his taste. "That one is okay too, but I like either of the other two better than that one."
"Do you really now?" she asks in surprise. "I picked this one just for you."
"If that's the one you want."
"Well, I did say you had some input into which one to get. Which one did you prefer?" Kate asks.
"Either of the other two is fine."
"Uh-uh. You have to pick."
"Okay, the black one. I liked that one best."
"You like the one that covers me the most?" she asks with a small smile.
He takes three slow steps to her, bending down to whisper in her ear. "It makes the undressing all the more fun."
She wiggles as a chill passes through her from his words. "Well! In that case, the black one it is." He smiles, holding out his hand. "What?" she asks in confusion.
"Hand it out when you get back in there and I'll go pay for it."
"I can pay for it, Mac."
"I know you can, but it's my treat."
She looks into his eyes for a moment. "Okay. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he says with a smile.
She disappears into the booth, the door opening a crack before a hand appears holding the swimsuit. While she changes into her street clothes he pays for the suit.
"Your girlfriend, she's beautiful," gushes the young clerk as she folds and drops the suit into a small bag.
He smiles. "Yes, she is. Very beautiful." He takes the bag and is turning from the counter when she steps from the changing booth.
"Can we eat?" she asks. "I'm starving."
They turn left out of the shop and walk until she spots a mall directory. There aren't many choices, but after some discussion, they settle on The Italian Bistro. He isn't expecting much, but as they approach the establishment, he begins to revise his opinion. The restaurant has a half-dozen tables outside in a fenced off area, each table covered by a jaunty umbrella in the green, white, and red of the Italian flag, and a white tablecloth. The exterior wall is made from stucco and looks very old and worn, though Mac knows it had to be less than five years old because the mall has only been here that long. Inside the old-world decor continues with tile floors, wooden tables, and real linen tablecloths and napkins.
It's a bit early for the lunch rush, so he asks to sit outside to enjoy the weather. The menu is limited to simple fare, in true bistro style, but he's beginning to get an inkling this place may be a hidden gem. They discuss their choices, with Mac selecting the calzone and Kate the lunch, two slice, pizza deal, topped with bacon.
While they wait for their food, he leans in closer to her. "Kate, may I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Last week, in the dress shop, can you tell me what that was all about?"
She sits back in her chair with a sigh. "My mother."
"Your mother?" he blinks.
"Yeah, my mother. You see, dear ol' mom doesn't approve of me. She thinks I'm a loose woman, kept by men for their sexual dalliances. I was brought up in a strict Christian household where anything fun had to be a sin and was discouraged. And sex? Forget it. Sex was for one purpose, and one purpose alone. Procreation. If you enjoyed it, you were little more than a whore. I've moved past that. If there's a God I find it hard to believe that he would make anything so pleasurable between a man and a woman a sin, but every now and again, mom still bites me in the ass. I'm sorry you had to be there when she did."
He looks at her, thinking over what she said, not sure how to respond. "I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't intend to make you feel that way," he says quietly, reaching over and taking her hand. "I hope you know that I enjoy your company much more than for just sexual dalliances."
She smiles, patting his hand with her other one. "I know. I feel the same way about you. Compared to some, yeah, I sleep around. But I won't go to bed with just anyone, and I sleep with only one man at a time. I think of them as a series of short-term relationships. Some of the relationships may only last a few days, a week maybe. Others will go on for a couple of months. It just depends." She gives him a small smile. "You were going to my first one-night stand in a long time, over a year. Seems like it didn't work out that way because here we are... and here's our food."
They eat in silence for a time as he tries to get his mind around this woman. She's so strong, so independent, so... Kate.
"Kate," he finally says, just to break the growing silence, "would it upset you if I told you I'm glad it didn't work out the way you planned?"
She graces him with a winning smile. "Would it surprise you if I said I'm also glad it didn't work out as I planned?"
He chuckles. "I'm beginning to think there is very little you can do that surprises me. You seem capable of nearly anything, and I mean that in all the best, most positive ways. You are one hell of a woman, Katherine Thompson. Someone to be admired."
"Why Bertrand McMillan, are you trying to seduce me?" she asks with a smile before leaning in closer to him. "Because if you are, you're doing a damn good job of it."
He flushes in embarrassment. "No, not really. I meant what I said, and I can tell you that you have at least two admirers in this mall today."
"Oh really? And who would they be," she asks with a playful lilt in her voice.
"I'm one, obviously. The girl that checked me out with the swimsuit is the other. She thinks you're beautiful." He pauses, waiting for her to speak. The moment she looks like she's about to say something he continues, "I told her she was right."
She looks at him, his complement warming her soul. "You're not so bad yourself."
He pushes his plate away, pleasantly surprised at the taste and quality of the food, but still unable to eat the entire calzone. She appears to have the same problem since a crust and half a slice of pizza are still on her plate. He reaches over, picks up the half-eaten piece, and takes a bite out of it, returning the remainder to her plate. "Pretty good," he acknowledges.
"I thought so, but those two slices are a third of a pizza. I can't eat it all."
He points to the remains of his calzone. "I have the same problem." He looks at the check and transfers the money to the restaurant's account, along with a nice tip. "Let's go. I want there to be some daylight left for swimming."
"Right behind you," she says, rising with him.
They enter and leave two men's stores before finding one that sells swimsuits. He can't care less what his suit looks like, only the length, so he selects a half-dozen and holds them to his waist to check the length, keeping the two shortest, which he carries to a changing room. He tries both suits on but is unhappy with the fit of each one. He changes back into his regular pants to look somewhere else, but also about ready to give up and simply cut some length off the right leg on the suit he has at home. When he exits the room, he finds Kate standing outside the booth, hips cocked, twirling a small black bathing suit on one finger.
She knows before Mac goes into the changing room that both suits are going to be too long, so she keeps looking until she finds what she's looking for. The minute she hears him grab the door handle she begins to twirl the suit on her pointer finger, a big grin on her face.
"Oh, hell no!" he protests. "I'm not wearing those," but she keeps smiling and spinning the suit on her finger as she nods her head. "No! No way!" he protests again.
"Oh, stop being such a baby. Come on, I'll help," she says pushing him back into the booth and closing the door behind her. It is a tight squeeze with both of them in there, which is no bad thing to her way of thinking.
"Kate," he says as her fingers begin unbuckling his pants, "I'm not wearing that."
"Okay, fine, but you have to at least try it on."
He steps out of his pants and pulls the tiny suit on, but it won't go over his boxers. "It won't fit," he says in satisfaction.
"Huh-uh. All the way then," she says, pointing at his crotch.
"Kate, I—" he begins.
"All the way," she repeats, her tone brooking no argument.
He sighs in defeat and removes his boxers and pulls the swimsuit on. "I feel ridiculous in this thing," he complains. "A diaper would cover more."
"Shirt too," she says, snapping her fingers and flicking her finger in a take it off motion. "I want to see what it looks like."
He sighs again and removes his shirt. "Happy?"
When he removes his shirt her breath hitches in her throat. Standing so close to him, and with him in that suit, and nothing but that suit, she can feel her color rising. "You do not look ridiculous in that," she states firmly before leaning in a little closer. "But you'd better take it off and get dressed, otherwise we may end up fucking right here, and that would be embarrassing for both of us," she whispers.
He could feel his penis twitch at the thought of them fucking their brains out in the dressing room, their moans of pleasure heard throughout the store. What the hell is wrong with me! I'd never have even considered such a thing two weeks ago! Is she getting to me that much? He shakes off the feeling.
"Perhaps that would be best," he says peeling the suit off like a second skin, his penis hardening in spite of himself.
She notices his penis and a small smile crosses her lips. When he straightens, boxers in hand as he pulls them up, she gives his cock one slow, gentle, caress, from base to tip, causing him to hiss and twitch. "Perhaps it is, but we're buying these if I have to pay for them myself," she purrs. As he snaps and zips his pants, a noticeable bulge showing in front, she slips out and closes the door. "When you're ready come on out," she says to the closed door, and then turns to the waiting clerk. "These. Definitely these."
The clerk's eyes crinkle as she smiles, taking the suit and ringing it out, causing Kate to wonder if she'd overheard her whispered suggestion they might start fucking in the changing room. Probably not, but imagining him in that suite, I bet she's thinking the same thing I was. Kate transfers the money to the store from her account with a small smile of her own. She kind of liked being the envy of every woman that saw them, and besides, he bought her the suit he likes, and she buys him the suit she likes, and there's a symmetry of that she likes.
Swimsuits purchased, they mosey back to the car, window shopping but not stopping. On the way home he stops at his regular market. She follows him through the store, quietly watching him select a variety of fresh vegetables and fruit, some salmon steaks he seems very pleased with, chicken breasts, a loaf of fresh bread and three kinds of cheese that she'd never heard of, along with a few staples. He then chooses two bottles of wine that he seems torn between before finally selecting one and putting the other back.
"I wish I'd asked Charlie what dessert wine she served at dinner. It was excellent," he says as he puts the bottle back. "In fact, I wish I knew more about wine. We live in one of the greatest wine producing regions of the world, and what I don't know about wine would fill a book," he says bitterly but with a smile.
"You should talk to Giselle Chamfer, Charlie's friend. I would bet that dessert wine that you like so well was picked by Giselle at Charlie's request. According to Charlie, what Giselle knows about wines, would fill a book," she says as they're checked out
Mac smiles to himself as the young clerk checking them out struggles not to stare at Kate. "Is that the same Giselle as in the immersion?" he asks as he looks at the amount due and transfers the money to the store.
"It is."
He grunts noncommittally as he hefts the three bags. "Do you suppose she'd be willing to share what she knows?"
"I don't know. I've only met them once, but they seem nice enough. Why don't you ask Charlie what she thinks?"
He grunts again as he carries the bags to the car. "Maybe I will sometime."
***
Mac closes the refrigerator door after storing the last of the shopping and turns Kate. "Now that we have something for dinner, how about a swim?"
"Sure," she says with a smile. "Are you going to wear the swimsuit I bought you?"
"No," he says firmly.
"Yes, you are," she says just as firmly, but with a giggle.
"No, Kate, I'm not."
"Yes, Mac, you are," she says standing up from her propped position and stepping in close to him. "You're going to wear it because I want you to," she says, her voice becoming lower and more husky. "You want to please me, don't you?" she says softly as she molds herself to his body, tipping his head down to look him in the eyes. "Please, Mac, just this once. For me?"
"I—" he begins.
"Please Mac? No one will see you but me. Please?" she breathes.
He stands his ground a moment before his defiance crumbles. "Goddammit," he mutters, annoyed that she can so easily twist him around her little finger. "Fine. Just this once."
"Thank you, Mac," she breathes again before kissing him quickly but seductively then pulling out of his embrace. "Shall we dress?" she asks, pulling on his hand and leading him to their bedroom.
She dumps the two swimsuits out on the bed and begins removing the tags from her suit as he does the same from his. "Suits like this are not made for guys like me," he grumbles as he starts pulling it on.
She pauses in the tying of her suit to watch as he straightens. "No, you're wrong. You're exactly the type of man suits like that are made for."
She briefly thinks about telling him how hot the suit makes her and how she's looking forward to seeing him walk out of the lake wearing it. That's the stuff dreams are made of. Tearing her eyes away from him, she finishes typing her suit.
"You ready?" she asks.
"Let me get some towels," he says, disappearing into the bathroom, reappearing moments later with a couple of folded cloths.
They walk down a long flight of steps from the deck outside the cathedral to a wooden walk leading to the lake. The walk ends in another small deck on stilts set back from the water, with more steps leading down into the water. Because of the shape of the lake all the boat traffic is well away from shore, leaving them in relative privacy. Looking back, she can just make out the Bannerman's house, but can't see the Vaughan's house at all, though their deck and boat house is plainly visible at the water's edge.
He walks down the steps and slips quietly into the water and begins to swim strongly toward the center of the lake. She begins to follow him but quickly gives up any idea of keeping up with him. He doesn't look like he's swimming that fast, and maybe he isn't, but he's swimming a hell of a lot faster than she can. She pulls up, treads water for a moment, and then strikes off for the ramp the plane uses to lay her trap.
He swims out about three-hundred yards until he feels winded, then turns and starts back to shore. As he nears the shore he pulls up, looking for Kate. Treading water, he experiences a moment of panic until he finds her lying back on the Goose's launching ramp, soaking up the sun. He adjusts his course and begins swimming toward her.
She watches him swimming her way as she leans back and takes a sexy pose, taking care to make sure she can see him walk out of the water. As he stands up, walking out of the lake, the water running from his body as he pushes his hair out of his eyes, she has to suppress a groan. The stuff of dreams, indeed.
"You swim too fast, so I decided to wait for you here," she says as he walks toward her. Holy shit, he looks good in that swimsuit! She wonders if it's private enough to fuck him right here, right now.
"Sorry," he says sitting down on the concrete beside her. "I didn't think. I just wanted to see what I could do."
"It's okay, but I was afraid if I tried to keep up with you, I'd drown. Then you'd have to give me mouth to mouth. Not that I would mind the last part," she says, an impish grin tugging at her lips.
"You wouldn't, would you?" he asks mischievously, leaning down to give her a taste of what that would be like, his lips pressing firmly to hers.
She accepts the kiss hungrily, her passions soaring. She wants him, wants him so badly she can't stand it. She pushes him over onto his back, following him with her kiss, their lips never separating as they slowly roll. He moves, probably to take her into his arms, but the concrete was uncomfortable on her knees. Her desires start to run away with her, and not wanting to get scraped up before the show on Tuesday, she playfully pulls away and quickly rises to her feet. "Catch me if you can," she calls before dashing down the ramp and into the water.
He watches her splash into the water with a smile, before rising and giving chase.
They spend the next two hours laughing and splashing in the water, the bouts of horseplay broken by moments of intimacy. Mac is like a fish, swimming smoothly and easily, and while she can swim, she's not as comfortable in the water as he is, but that doesn't stop her enjoyment of being in the water with him, especially when he holds her so she can rest.
"So, how's your leg?" she asks as they climb out of the water to shower and prepare for dinner. She immediately wonders why she cares. It has been a long time, years maybe, since she cared about something like that in one of her partners. But with Mac, she's genuinely curious and cares that the leg is meeting his expectations.
"It feels great. It really does," he says as they dry. "It is just like my natural leg. I can feel the differences in the water temperature. I couldn't do that before. I can feel the mud between my toes, rather than just feel the bottom, like with my old leg. This new leg is an amazing piece of engineering."
She smiles, strangely pleased for him. "I'm glad. I really am. So, the other night, you couldn't feel me touching you on that leg?"
"I could feel it," he explains, "But it was like a pressure. I couldn't feel the warmth of your hand, or any small motions or light touches you might have been making. Nothing like that. I think I can with this new leg."
"Mmmm..." she purrs. "Something to check tonight."
"Yes, I think we should," he agrees with a smile and kiss.
***
Kate cuts into the steamed salmon that she prepared, under Mac's tutelage of course. With his patient assistance and encouragement, she'd prepared the entire meal of salmon and rice, Mac handing her what she needed, when she needed it, as he instructed her each step of the way, helping her with sure hands when she faltered or was confused.
She places the fish into her mouth, savoring the flavor. She can't really take credit for the taste with his handing her the spices to use and coaching her on the amount to apply, but damn if it isn't good.
"Excellent," he proclaims, smiling at her warmly. "Much better than my first attempts at cooking."
She makes a derisive, spluttering noise. "Hardly my doing," she says, her tone dry, but she's secretly she's quite proud of herself. "Anyone can cook when someone is standing over their shoulder saying, 'Now do this.'"
"Actually, Kate, that isn't entirely true. I've tried to teach others to cook and it was an unmitigated disaster." He smiles at her. "Considering what I found in the kitchen of your house, or more accurately, what I didn't find, I'm pleasantly surprised. At least you know which end of a spatula to hold."
"Other... women? Lovers?" she asks quietly.
"Yes. Does that bother you?"
"No. I was just wondering if you'd admit it."
"Why wouldn't I? You must surely know you are not my first lover."
"Nor you, mine. But some men try to be coy about it. I'm not sure why."
"If you ask a straight question, you deserve a straight answer. I don't see any reason to play games."
She looks at him for a moment. "What a refreshing attitude. So, if I ask a straight question, you'll always give me an honest answer?"
He feels a sudden rush of concern, feeling like she's setting him up, but in for a penny, in for a pound. "Yes."
She smiles at him, wondering if he really means it. Everyone has their little secrets, things they don't want to say. "So..." she begins, drawing the word out. "Compared to all your other women, how do I rate as a lover?" she asks to tease him, not expecting to answer.
"Are you sure you want to know?" he asks seriously.
She's rocked back. Is he really going to answer her honestly, and did she really want to know? "Of course. Unless I'm last on the list, in which case, please lie to me," she says with a faint smile.
"Okay. If you want honest, here's honest," he says before pausing to build the tension. "I've had several lovers that could twist a man up with pleasure beyond belief." He pauses, letting the tension build even more, enjoying watching her squirm in anticipation even as she tries to feign nonchalance. "None of them can come close to what you do to me," he says, grinning as she visibly relaxes.
"That's your honest answer? You're not just saying that because you want something later?"
"No, that's an honest answer," he confirms before pausing. "But fair is fair. How do I rate as a lover?" he asks with a grin.
She looks at him, wondering how to answer. He must surely know that he positively rocks her world. "I don't know, Mac. You've only fucked me. You haven't made love to me yet," she says, surprising herself with her words, regretting them the moment they leave her mouth.
He's surprised to hear her answer, feeling annoyance rising at the criticism, but she looks positively shocked at what she said so he holds to his temper. "Is that something you want me to do, Kate? Make love to you?"
"I'm sorry. That didn't come out the way I meant. I—"
"Just answer the question. Do you want me to make love to you?" he interrupts quietly.
"Mac," she begins again. "That isn't—"
"Kate," he interrupts a second time. "I know what you meant. And you're right. I've just been fucking you." He pauses, looking deep into her eyes. "Would you like me to make love to you? Tonight?"
She looks into his eyes for a long time. "Yes," she finally says, looking away, trying to hide her embarrassment. Two nights in a row she's said the stupidest thing. She'll be lucky if he doesn't take her home in the morning.
He points with his fork. "Your fish is getting cold," he says, clearly dropping the subject.
She wants to cry. She feels like such a fool, but she reigns in her emotions and smiles. "And it'd be a shame to waste it."
"Yes would," he says, resuming his meal.
He doesn't know what to make of her comment. He's over his annoyance, deciding that she didn't mean it as a criticism of him, but what did she mean? Did she even know herself? There's no doubt her statement held a kernel of truth though. He's been fucking her, taking her for the sheer physical pleasure of it, and giving it back in kind, with no more emotional attachment than he has for this piece of fish he's eating. But as he thinks about it, he realizes he's becoming fond of her. He likes having her around for reasons other than the use of her body. So yes, maybe it is time to move beyond fucking into something more... substantial. He looks at her. Despite her efforts to hide it, she looks miserable. Well, maybe he can change that tonight.
She finds she's no longer hungry, eating because the food is there in front of her, kicking herself for her damnable mouth. Why do I have to say such stupid things? She wants to apologize to him for what she said, but holds her tongue, afraid of making matters worse. She picks at her fish, trying to hold up her end of the conversion, but miserable inside all the same.
After dinner he shoo's her away to the couch overlooking the lake. As she sits, he cleans up the kitchen and dinner dishes before cubing some of each cheese he'd bought and pouring two glasses of wine, carrying the cheese and wine with him to join her on the couch.
As he putters about in the kitchen, she decides he deserves an apology, not missing the fact that she'll have apologized to him more in a week than she has with any five of her previous lovers, combined. That, in itself, must mean something, though she's not sure what, other than she has a big mouth sometimes. As he steps around the end of the couch, cheese board in hand, she smiles.
"Mac, I just want to—"
He interrupts her before she can even get the word out. "Shhh. Nothing to apologize for. I asked an honest question. I got an honest answer. Don't worry about it. Take the glasses, please, so I can sit this down."
She takes the glasses, places them on the table and then turns back to him. "Mac, please, just let me finish. I didn't mean that the way it came out. I'm sorry for the way it sounded. I wasn't criticizing you or how you have acted and... I'm sorry."
He leans over and kisses her gently on the lips. "I know. I didn't take it that way, so don't worry about it, okay? And I think you made a valid point. Now, you've said your piece. Can we just enjoy this excellent wine and cheese?"
***
They sit, Kate leaning against Mac, once again watching the sun settle behind the trees, nibbling on the cheese and sipping the wine, talking little. She doesn't know what to make of Mac, a man that apparently refuses to be offended no matter the provocation, and who is gentle and understanding, almost to a fault. So why she does she still feel like shit?
"I'm ready for bed. Are you?" he asks, standing and slipping first one empty glass then the second into the cheese board holder, offering her a hand up.
She checks the time. It is still early, only ten-fifteen. "Yes, if you are," she says, hiding her disappointment.
She helps him with the cheese board, then, as they walk down the hall, she turns into her bedroom. He stops abruptly, stepping into the guest room with her. "Why'd you come in here? I'd much rather make love to you in my room. More romantic with the view, wouldn't you agree?" he asks with a soft smile.
She looks into his eyes. "Mac... I don't know what to do. I'm all twisted up inside from what I said. I can't tell if you're upset and just not telling me, or what."
"Come with me," he says, taking her hand and pulling her gently. "Let me show you." He leads her into his bedroom, stopping by the bed. He makes no move, looking into her large brown eyes for a long moment before he steps around behind her, kissing her on the neck as he begins to slowly unbutton her blouse.
She allows him to undo her shirt, her hand curling to the back of his head as he kisses her neck from behind. He's being deliberate, slow, seeming in no hurry to have her as he slowly opens the front of her blouse, his fingers gently caressing her under her breasts before returning to the buttons. Shirt open, he slowly peels it over her shoulders, kissing at the flesh as it's revealed. Her heart speeds up and her wetness flows in anticipation of the pleasures to come. Shirt removed, he softly drags his fingers down her back, causing her to shiver from the sensation.
He smiles when she wiggles as he draws his fingers down her back. Hands at her waist, he unbuttons her shorts, sliding the zipper down to open the front, but not pushing them down. He allows his finger to slowly roam, but doesn't touch her womanhood, causing her to move gently as he drags his finger slowly under the lip of her panties as she twists her head around to kiss him on the lips.
He's driving her insane with his slow, delicate touch, touching her everywhere except where she wants him to touch. She twists her head back, pulling his lips to her own. It isn't the most comfortable position, but she's desperate to taste his lips. As they kiss, he slowly slides her shorts and panties down. The moment they loosen over her hips, she shakes her legs, causing the clothing to fall to the floor. Pants removed, she's finally naked, having not put on a bra after showering from the swim. She steps out of her pants and turns in one smooth motion, pulling him in with arms around his neck as she kisses him, really kisses him, rising on her tiptoes as she flows into his arms. He gently pushes her to the bed, softly trying to force her onto it, but she resists his push.
"No. Please, Mac, no," she breathes as she pushes him away.
As he backs off, she holds his gaze with a smile that can stop a man's heart. Her fingers slowly begin opening the buttons on his shirt, her lips following the growing opening down his chest. He begins to breathe deep as she works her magic on him.
His shirt unbuttoned, she pushes it open with her hands, allowing her fingers to glide along the rippling muscles of his form, her lips coming to rest on his left nipple, her tongue slowly swirling around it as it hardens under her caress. Lips and tongue busy on his chest, she begins to free his manhood, unbuckling his belt and pants, not rushing, taking her time, enjoying the process of undressing him. As her hand slides down the front of his pants and into his underwear, taking his turgid manhood into her hand, she can feel his body stiffen as he issues a long, low, groaning exhalation.
As she grips his penis, he shrugs out of his shirt and then pushes his pants down, pulling her into his body, needing to feel the touch of her flesh to his, their lips coming together once more. She releases his cock and uses both hands to pull them together before leaning back, allowing him to lower her to the bed. His bed is an ultra-king, fully seven and a half feet square. As they settle on the bed, he rolls, pulling her with him as he scoots to the center before rolling back over and pinning her under him.
She helps him move to the center of the bed, then allows him to position himself over her without protest, his arms under her back, his hard cock pressing against her womanhood as she opens for him. He doesn't enter her, only lying against her instead, looking into her eyes as she watches his face, waiting to see what he does.
He watches her eyes, feeling himself grow harder still, painfully hard, as he anticipates the pleasures to come. He slowly brings his lips to hers, their tongues slowly entwining when he gently enters her, the feel of her flesh intoxicating as he settles lightly onto her body.
Her back arches in pleasure as he slowly sinks to her depths and holds himself deep inside her. Slowly, maddeningly, he begins to move with long, gentle thrusts, his cock sliding in delicious pleasure inside of her as passion of their kiss increases. She can't stand it, pushing his mouth from hers so she can breathe, the pleasure causing her to clench her eyes tight as his slow, gentle, thrusting sends a new wave of pleasure through her on every stroke.
When she pushes his lips away to hold them tightly to her neck, Mac begins kissing her neck and shoulder, slowly losing himself in the lovemaking. Each time he and Kate have joined, it has been violent, explosive, but not tonight. Tonight, they're taking their time, enjoying the closeness, very much making love instead of fucking.
Her orgasm is coming, and she opens herself to it. Tonight, in this slow, gentle, erotic, giving and taking of pleasure, she no longer feels the need to show him he can't out-fuck her. She'll let him give her orgasms, and she'll give him his, but there is no competition, just two people giving of themselves. As her orgasm surrounds her, enveloping her, she begins to groan as she's overwhelmed with pleasure.
She begins to stiffen as her orgasm takes her. When she gasps, her body gently quivering as she clings to him, he pauses in his thrusting, allowing her to take her release, to experience the joy of her orgasm, no longer feeling he has anything to prove.
As she comes out of her orgasm she moves, reaching for his lips with her own, hungry for his kiss. As their lips caress, he begins to thrust again, harder, with more urgency, sending her passions spiraling. She clings to him, wanting his closeness, reveling in the feeling as he settles more firmly onto her. Already she can feel a second orgasm coming, just moments behind her first, and she begins to kiss him frantically to draw the orgasm in.
He can sense her winding up for a second climax as he drives into her faster, harder, pushing her toward her release. Her hands roam his back, grasping at him, her fingers tangling his hair as she begins to moan softly into his mouth. Her kiss becomes frenzied with her desire until, with a great gasp, she pulls away and then lunges at him, her mouth at his ear as she grasps him with desperate strength while whimpering softly.
She's ravaged by her second orgasm in as many minutes as she holds to him, her body trying to curl in on itself in pleasure, holding him tight as he slows his thrusting, letting her climax flow through her. As her pleasure washes out of her she feels warm, fulfilled and something akin to loved. She relaxes her grip on him, settling back onto the bed with a smile of contentment, opening her eyes to watch his face. There has been no doubt that he's skillful in bed, knowing fully how to please a woman, but she now knows he can be a gentle and considerate lover as well. She places her hands gently on the sides of his face as he smiles at her.
He watches as her face melts into a softness she's never shown before, her hands caressing his face with great tenderness. He smiles softly at her, feeling a closeness with her he hasn't felt in a long time. He slowly takes her lips, kissing her slowly, gently, his hips still as they focus on the kiss, their tongues dancing.
She has been well kissed before, but never has she had such a slow, erotic, and deeply satisfying kiss as the one she's sharing now. As the kiss continues, he begins to move, slowly at first, his thrusts slow and easy, but as he continues his thrusts become harder, more forceful, slowly increasing in speed. Her two orgasms have taken the edge off and she purrs in pleasure as she settles in to accept the pleasure he's giving her.
He makes love to her, slowly, for many long moments, until his orgasm begins encroaching on him. He once again covers her mouth with his own, the eroticism of the kiss as they make love driving him toward his orgasm. "I'm going to come," he whispers as he slowly withdraws from the kiss.
"Please come with me, please come with me," she gasps, his impending orgasm urging her toward her third climax. "Harder," she gasps, reaching for her final release of the night.
With her plea, he begins to drive into her harder and faster than anytime during the night, driving her to another orgasm. He tightens his control, holding to his pleasure, waiting for her to catch up to him so that they can peak together.
When he begins pounding into her, her rapture blooms in power. "Yes! Yes! Just like that," she gasps as she tugs him tighter to her and dragging her orgasm closer.
"Come. I want you to come," he whispers, encouraging her, trying to whip her into a frenzy. "I want to you to come with me."
Her orgasm is closing around her again, her eyes once again squeezing shut as her pleasure saps her control. "I'm coming... ohhhh... I'm coming!" she grinds out as she begins to tumble into the abyss.
As she announces her fall, he relaxes his control, letting his orgasm overtake him, until with a final hard thrust, he drives deep into her as he empties himself. He has had many orgasms that were more powerful, but few as deeply satisfying as this one. As he breathes deeply, enjoying his release, he looks once more into her smiling face. He slowly lowers his lips to hers, taking her lips in a lingering kiss.
They kiss, allowing the flames of their desire to cool while basking in the lingering warmth of their lovemaking. After a time, he rolls off her, allowing her to move, neither speaking and no words necessary. She crawls into his arms, her hand slowly stroking his chest as his hand caresses her back. She's content, satisfied at a very deep level, fulfilled in a way that a good hard fuck can't match. She's happy, happy to be here with him and sharing his bed. With a final deep sigh of contentment, she smiles softly as she drifts slowly into sleep.
He lies still, holding her close, thinking about the pleasures that she has given him over the last few days, but unsure of his feelings toward her. He barely knows her, but he can't deny the growing attraction he feels for her, but is this attraction of the flesh, or of the soul? He's not sure, sure only that having her here for only one more day is a bittersweet thought, not wanting her to go but knowing she can't stay. He continues to think about her, and tomorrow, until he too slips quietly into slumber.
Book #3: Flight to Paradise
Chapter 8
Mac's eyes flutter open and he looks around the slowly brightening room, the room's window slowly growing clear to allow in more light. He yawns, wanting to stretch, but not wanting to disturb Kate lying close beside him. When he'd gone to sleep last night she'd still been lying on his chest, but now she's on his left side, tucked in tight, an arm and leg still thrown over him.
Unable to stand it anymore he stretches, trying to move as little as possible, but she feels the movement in her sleep, muttering a barely understandable, "No..." before snuggling in closer.
While he would willingly spend the next several hours in bed with her, right now he has to urinate. He carefully slips out from under her arm and leg, Kate waking enough to try to hold him in the bed before letting him go. He picks up his leg, taking a moment to prepare himself before making the connection. He jams his leg into the socket, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth against the pain.
When he exits the bathroom, she's already back asleep. He briefly considers crawling into bed and waking her up, but decides what he needs to do is workout, a chore he neglected several times while in LA. He quietly dresses in one of his workout uniforms, gym shorts and a loose t-shirt, and pads down the hall to his workout room. He spends an hour on the resistance machine then spends another thirty minutes on the cardio machine. Normally he alternates, doing resistance one day for strength and muscle tone, the cardio for endurance the next, but his new leg feels so damn good he just has to try it out on the elliptical.
After his workout he enters his room hot, tired, bathed in sweat, and feeling wonderful, his new leg identical in every measurable way to his own. He looks at the neatly made bed in disappointment. Had Kate still been there he'd have tried to coax her into joining him for another workout. Not finding her in his bathroom, he crosses the hall to the guest room. The door is open, so he enters.
"Kate?" he quietly calls.
"In here," her voice answers from the bathroom.
He stops in the bathroom doorway, watching her brush her hair, already bathed and dressed. "I thought you wanted breakfast in bed," he says leaning against the jamb.
"You weren't there," she says with a smile, the brush never slowing.
"I'm here now."
"Yes, but now I'm presentable..." the brush stops moving as she looks him over, "... and you most assuredly, are not."
He laughs, standing up. "Okay. Fine. Let me see if I can fix that. We'll go have brunch, somewhere, and stop by the market on the way back so I can feed you properly tonight. Then we can go swimming if you like. I want to try out the new leg in the water."
"Swimming in the lake?" she asks, trying to remember if she's ever been swimming in a lake.
"Nowhere but."
"I didn't bring my suit—"
"Perfect!" he interrupts.
"—and I'm not going skinny dipping."
He pooches out his bottom lip in a comical pout. "Well, damn. Fine. After brunch, swimsuit, then the market, then swimming."
"Mac, I already have two or three suits at home. I don't need another one."
"Yes, but I'm buying this one, and it can stay here for when you need it," he says, closely watching her reaction.
She recognizes that he's testing her, trying to see if she's going to react the same way she did at the dress shop, but her demons are quiet this morning. "I can buy it myself, Mac. You don't have to do that."
"I know, Kate, but if I pay for it, don't I get a little say in what it looks like?"
She smiles at him. "Okay. If you pay for it, you can have a little say in what it looks like. Are you sure you want to pay for it? What if I don't come back?"
His smile slowly fades. "If that's the case, I think that spending a few bucks on a swimsuit that won't be used again will be the least of my disappointment."
She watches his smile fade. He really did look like he would be disappointed if she didn't come back. She offers him a sweet little smile. "Well, I wouldn't want you to be disappointed. Now go get cleaned up. We have a lot to do today and we're not getting it done with you standing in here bothering me while I get ready."
His smile returns, but not with the same enthusiasm as before. "Okay. Give me twenty minutes and I'll be ready to go."
He turns to go, but stops and turns back, leaning down to give her noisy smooch on the lips, holding his sweaty body away from hers. "I'm glad you don't want to disappoint me," he says before leaving to shower and dress.
She watches him go, then resumes brushing her hair. No, I really don't want to disappoint him, or myself, by not coming back.
***
As he slips on his boxers after his shower, he notices that the bottom is dangerously close to the mounting band of his leg. Examining the length in a mirror, he recalls Abby's warning that the leg would automatically adjust its color to match the skin tone just above it. He didn't have to worry about that with his old leg as he used a series of stains as needed to lighten or darken the artificial skin so it matched his other leg, but this new leg would do that automatically. On impulse, he removes his boxers and tries on his swimsuit. The bottom of the right leg is above the mount band, but just. Smoothing the fabric, he thinks a moment and then decides they'd be buying two suits today, one for Kate and one for himself.
Clean and dressed, he finds Kate in the main room staring out at the lake. "Some view, isn't it? I never get tired of looking at it," he says, stepping in close behind her.
She starts slightly at his words before turning to face him. "It is lovely. I wouldn't get anything done if I had that view to look at all the time." She looks him over, neatly turned out in long pants and a light shirt. "Don't you ever wear shorts?"
"No. Why?"
"Because this is California. Everyone wears short," she says motioning to her own attire.
"I don't think I have any shorts."
"You don't have any shorts? None? Well, you will after today."
"Oh, I will, will I?" he asks with a brief chuckle.
"We're going shopping for a swimsuit today, remember?"
"I remember. It's just as well. I tried on my suit. It's too long. I need a new one."
"Too long?"
"Yeah. The new leg adjusts its color to the skin above it. My swimsuit hangs too low and covers the mount," he says, rubbing his leg with the side of his hand at the height of the mount band so she can see. "I don't want the artificial leg to be pasty white when the other one is tanned because my swimsuit covers the skin there."
"Oh, I get it," she says. So, Mac needs a small, tight swimsuit? She'll be delighted to help him pick that out, but the shorts are going to be a problem. He would look silly in shorts that short. "That presents a problem for the shorts, so I guess you're off the hook there."
"Good. I'd look silly in shorts."
"No, you'd look damn sexy in shorts. Unless one leg is white and the other is brown, then you'd look silly in shorts."
He chuckles as he takes her arm and gently steers her toward the garage. "I'm glad we agree." As they enter the garage, he raises the doors behind the Mercedes and the Ford. "Which vehicle do you want to take?"
She doesn't care, a car is a car. "It doesn't matter. Whichever you prefer, but what's that, under there?" she asks, nodding at the cloth covered car she noticed yesterday.
He steps to the shape and begins pulling the cover off an old car. "This was my grandfather's car." The car is perfect, mint in every detail.
"What's it?" she asks. She doesn't know anything about cars, but she recognizes that this is one is stunning.
"It's a 1999 BMW M5 in the original Oxford Green." He pauses, admiring the car once again. "This car used to be the most beautiful thing in the garage," he says, looking away from the car to stare at her.
She pulls her attention away from the car to look at him, not understanding what he's inferring, until she sees the way he's looking at her. She begins to blush at the compliment. She gets many compliments on her appearance, and has long stopped blushing when she receives one, but for some reason, his complement means more to her than most.
"It's a beautiful car. Why can't they make cars that look like this anymore?"
"Because back then they were styled by master craftsmen with love. Now they're all styled by computer."
She sighs, moving to the Ford, the closer of the two cars. "I guess this is fine," she says opening the passenger door.
"Oh, hell no! You made me uncover it. It's the rule. If I uncover it, I have to drive it," he says wadding up the cover and tossing it in a basket on the floor, obviously placed there for that purpose.
Kate hesitates, one foot in the SUV. "Do you mind?" she asks, stepping out and closing the door.
"I'd only mind if you won't go in it now that I have it uncovered," Mac says walking to a key peg by the door and lifting off a set of keys while at the same time lowering the garage door and raising the door behind the BMW.
"Let me see if it'll start. I haven't had it out in a long time." He sits in the car, one leg still on the garage floor and gives the key a twist. The car turns over slowly, the battery obviously weak, but after a couple of turns the V8 rumbles to life. "You have to love German engineering," he says with a smile. "Car hasn't been started in almost a year and yet it starts right up. Good thing you came. Another few months and the battery would have been dead." He offers her a smile. "You know what this means don't you?"
"What?"
"It means we're going to have to take the long way to town so the battery can charge." He leaves the car running and steps out and opens the passenger door for her. "You coming, or do I have to go by myself?" he asks peering at her over the top of the car.
She beams and hurries to the car and slides in, the creamy leather feeling delicious on the back of her legs.
He walks back around to the driver's side and squeezes in. The car, while not small, is a little snug for him. He slips the car into reverse and, blipping the throttle just to hear the V8 bark and growl, eases the car out of the garage.
"What's that?" she asks pointing to a stalk between the seats.
"What? This?" he asks giving the stalk a little wiggle.
"Yeah. I've never seen a car with one of those."
He turns the car around and creeps it down the driveway long curving driveway. "It's the gear lever. You've never seen a car with a stick shift before?"
"I guess not. What's it do, besides select forward and reverse?"
He pulls onto the road and stops. "This!"
He floors the throttle and dumps the clutch, causing the car to leap forward, the car crabbing sideways like a scared cat as the rear tires claw for grip on the slightly damp pavement. The minute the car hits the redline, he bangs the car into second, the rear tires once again howling in protest as the engine's power overcomes the grip, the V8 roaring its fury.
She begins to shriek in terror when he mats the throttle and the car tries to go sideways, the shriek turning to a squeal of delight as the scrabbling tires find grip and the car begins to rocket down the road, squeezing her back in her seat. He snicks the car into third, the BMW finding its legs now, pulling hard as the approaching corner draws closer with frightening speed. She plants both feet against the floor, willing the car to slow, but he keeps the power on, the car's acceleration still pressing her hard into her seat. Just as she closes her eyes, preparing to meet her death when the car careens off the corner, she feels herself being thrown forward, a small grunt escaping her as the seat belt bites into her, holding her in place.
He knows this section of road like he knows his own face. Despite her squeals he keeps the power on, giving the car its head as he bears down on the first corner. Because the road is a bit damp, and he didn't want to scare her too much, he jumps on the brakes just as the car nudges eighty, quickly bleeding off speed before entering the turn at a comfortable forty miles-per-hour.
"You asshole! You scared the shit out of me!" Kate cries as the car enters the turn, but her smile says something different.
"If you made a stain in my seat you are going to have to clean it up," he says with a grin, looking at her as the car exits the corner. "Be honest. You liked it didn't you?"
"Okay. I did like it. A little," she says, her smile growing wider.
"A little?" Mac asks in mock surprise. "I haven't heard you squeal like that since, well, last night actually," he says with twinkle in his eye and a sarcastic grin.
She looks away giggling after giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. "I didn't like it that well. There's being taken for a ride, then there's being taken for a ride!"
He makes so many twists and turns as he works his way from the lake, she finally has to consult the net for a map to tell where she is. The area surrounding the lake is mostly parks and recreation areas with only a few homes scattered in clusters here and there, and Kate is surprised when they arrive in Paradise, seemingly in the middle of nowheresville one moment, and in town the next. Mac turns the car onto a major thoroughfare before pulling off into a small outdoor mall of upscale shops, parking the car away from most of the other cars.
"You ready to shop?" he asks opening his door and unfolding from the car.
"Mac, honey, I was born to shop," she teases.
As they wander along the shops, he surprises her by tugging her into a shop selling sunglasses and other outdoor supplies. Stopping her in front of the sunglass counter he slips several teardrop shaped sunglasses on her, trying them on for size.
"What do you think?" he asks while holding a mirror up in front of her.
"They're fine, but why do I need another pair of sunglasses?"
"If you're going to be a pilot, you have to look the part," he says simply, slipping the glasses from her face and handing her pair back to her. He hands the glasses to the clerk that's assisting them, and she nearly has a heart attack at the price of the glasses. Her sunglasses cost almost two-hundred dollars, but these are more than twice that amount.
"Why are they so expensive?" she hisses as he completes the transaction.
"Quality costs money. These glasses are made like mine, with memory metal. You can tie them in a knot, then warm them up, and they will pop right back into shape. Plus, the lenses are made of some kind of material that you can't scratch, break or smudge. Basically, they're the last pair of sunglasses you'll ever have to buy." He takes the glasses and case from the clerk and hands them to her. "Not to mention they make you look sexy as hell," he whispers as they walk out of the store.
"Oh really?" she purrs, removing her sunglasses and replacing them with the new pair. "What do you think?" she asks, looking at him.
"I think pilot chicks are hot," he says with a wink, causing her to trill out a throaty laugh, his comment making her feel powerful and sexy.
Rounding a corner, she sees a casual clothing store for women. She pulls him into the store where she spends the next fifteen minutes selecting three different bikini style bathing suits to try on, ranging in size from average to nearly nonexistent. She slips into a changing area and emerges in the middle size suit, a splashy orange and white number that doesn't leave much to the imagination.
"So? What do you think?"
"Nice," he says appreciatively. "Very nice indeed."
"Hang on. I have a couple more to try." She returns to the changing booth and changes into the most conservative of the three suits, though no one would call any of them anything other than revealing.
He watches her steps out of the booth in a black bikini that, while covering more of her than the first, left the rest of her exposed in a most appealing way. "Wow! I like that one too," he says enthusiastically.
She says nothing, grinning at him, before returning to the changing booth where she tries on the most revealing of the three. She has no intention of buying this one, but she wanted to see his reaction. Feeling a little too close to nude, she steps out of the booth.
He watches her exit the booth in nearly nothing. While the suit did have a certain appeal, it reveals too much, leaving too little for the imagination, for his taste. "That one is okay too, but I like either of the other two better than that one."
"Do you really now?" she asks in surprise. "I picked this one just for you."
"If that's the one you want."
"Well, I did say you had some input into which one to get. Which one did you prefer?" Kate asks.
"Either of the other two is fine."
"Uh-uh. You have to pick."
"Okay, the black one. I liked that one best."
"You like the one that covers me the most?" she asks with a small smile.
He takes three slow steps to her, bending down to whisper in her ear. "It makes the undressing all the more fun."
She wiggles as a chill passes through her from his words. "Well! In that case, the black one it is." He smiles, holding out his hand. "What?" she asks in confusion.
"Hand it out when you get back in there and I'll go pay for it."
"I can pay for it, Mac."
"I know you can, but it's my treat."
She looks into his eyes for a moment. "Okay. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he says with a smile.
She disappears into the booth, the door opening a crack before a hand appears holding the swimsuit. While she changes into her street clothes he pays for the suit.
"Your girlfriend, she's beautiful," gushes the young clerk as she folds and drops the suit into a small bag.
He smiles. "Yes, she is. Very beautiful." He takes the bag and is turning from the counter when she steps from the changing booth.
"Can we eat?" she asks. "I'm starving."
They turn left out of the shop and walk until she spots a mall directory. There aren't many choices, but after some discussion, they settle on The Italian Bistro. He isn't expecting much, but as they approach the establishment, he begins to revise his opinion. The restaurant has a half-dozen tables outside in a fenced off area, each table covered by a jaunty umbrella in the green, white, and red of the Italian flag, and a white tablecloth. The exterior wall is made from stucco and looks very old and worn, though Mac knows it had to be less than five years old because the mall has only been here that long. Inside the old-world decor continues with tile floors, wooden tables, and real linen tablecloths and napkins.
It's a bit early for the lunch rush, so he asks to sit outside to enjoy the weather. The menu is limited to simple fare, in true bistro style, but he's beginning to get an inkling this place may be a hidden gem. They discuss their choices, with Mac selecting the calzone and Kate the lunch, two slice, pizza deal, topped with bacon.
While they wait for their food, he leans in closer to her. "Kate, may I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Last week, in the dress shop, can you tell me what that was all about?"
She sits back in her chair with a sigh. "My mother."
"Your mother?" he blinks.
"Yeah, my mother. You see, dear ol' mom doesn't approve of me. She thinks I'm a loose woman, kept by men for their sexual dalliances. I was brought up in a strict Christian household where anything fun had to be a sin and was discouraged. And sex? Forget it. Sex was for one purpose, and one purpose alone. Procreation. If you enjoyed it, you were little more than a whore. I've moved past that. If there's a God I find it hard to believe that he would make anything so pleasurable between a man and a woman a sin, but every now and again, mom still bites me in the ass. I'm sorry you had to be there when she did."
He looks at her, thinking over what she said, not sure how to respond. "I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't intend to make you feel that way," he says quietly, reaching over and taking her hand. "I hope you know that I enjoy your company much more than for just sexual dalliances."
She smiles, patting his hand with her other one. "I know. I feel the same way about you. Compared to some, yeah, I sleep around. But I won't go to bed with just anyone, and I sleep with only one man at a time. I think of them as a series of short-term relationships. Some of the relationships may only last a few days, a week maybe. Others will go on for a couple of months. It just depends." She gives him a small smile. "You were going to my first one-night stand in a long time, over a year. Seems like it didn't work out that way because here we are... and here's our food."
They eat in silence for a time as he tries to get his mind around this woman. She's so strong, so independent, so... Kate.
"Kate," he finally says, just to break the growing silence, "would it upset you if I told you I'm glad it didn't work out the way you planned?"
She graces him with a winning smile. "Would it surprise you if I said I'm also glad it didn't work out as I planned?"
He chuckles. "I'm beginning to think there is very little you can do that surprises me. You seem capable of nearly anything, and I mean that in all the best, most positive ways. You are one hell of a woman, Katherine Thompson. Someone to be admired."
"Why Bertrand McMillan, are you trying to seduce me?" she asks with a smile before leaning in closer to him. "Because if you are, you're doing a damn good job of it."
He flushes in embarrassment. "No, not really. I meant what I said, and I can tell you that you have at least two admirers in this mall today."
"Oh really? And who would they be," she asks with a playful lilt in her voice.
"I'm one, obviously. The girl that checked me out with the swimsuit is the other. She thinks you're beautiful." He pauses, waiting for her to speak. The moment she looks like she's about to say something he continues, "I told her she was right."
She looks at him, his complement warming her soul. "You're not so bad yourself."
He pushes his plate away, pleasantly surprised at the taste and quality of the food, but still unable to eat the entire calzone. She appears to have the same problem since a crust and half a slice of pizza are still on her plate. He reaches over, picks up the half-eaten piece, and takes a bite out of it, returning the remainder to her plate. "Pretty good," he acknowledges.
"I thought so, but those two slices are a third of a pizza. I can't eat it all."
He points to the remains of his calzone. "I have the same problem." He looks at the check and transfers the money to the restaurant's account, along with a nice tip. "Let's go. I want there to be some daylight left for swimming."
"Right behind you," she says, rising with him.
They enter and leave two men's stores before finding one that sells swimsuits. He can't care less what his suit looks like, only the length, so he selects a half-dozen and holds them to his waist to check the length, keeping the two shortest, which he carries to a changing room. He tries both suits on but is unhappy with the fit of each one. He changes back into his regular pants to look somewhere else, but also about ready to give up and simply cut some length off the right leg on the suit he has at home. When he exits the room, he finds Kate standing outside the booth, hips cocked, twirling a small black bathing suit on one finger.
She knows before Mac goes into the changing room that both suits are going to be too long, so she keeps looking until she finds what she's looking for. The minute she hears him grab the door handle she begins to twirl the suit on her pointer finger, a big grin on her face.
"Oh, hell no!" he protests. "I'm not wearing those," but she keeps smiling and spinning the suit on her finger as she nods her head. "No! No way!" he protests again.
"Oh, stop being such a baby. Come on, I'll help," she says pushing him back into the booth and closing the door behind her. It is a tight squeeze with both of them in there, which is no bad thing to her way of thinking.
"Kate," he says as her fingers begin unbuckling his pants, "I'm not wearing that."
"Okay, fine, but you have to at least try it on."
He steps out of his pants and pulls the tiny suit on, but it won't go over his boxers. "It won't fit," he says in satisfaction.
"Huh-uh. All the way then," she says, pointing at his crotch.
"Kate, I—" he begins.
"All the way," she repeats, her tone brooking no argument.
He sighs in defeat and removes his boxers and pulls the swimsuit on. "I feel ridiculous in this thing," he complains. "A diaper would cover more."
"Shirt too," she says, snapping her fingers and flicking her finger in a take it off motion. "I want to see what it looks like."
He sighs again and removes his shirt. "Happy?"
When he removes his shirt her breath hitches in her throat. Standing so close to him, and with him in that suit, and nothing but that suit, she can feel her color rising. "You do not look ridiculous in that," she states firmly before leaning in a little closer. "But you'd better take it off and get dressed, otherwise we may end up fucking right here, and that would be embarrassing for both of us," she whispers.
He could feel his penis twitch at the thought of them fucking their brains out in the dressing room, their moans of pleasure heard throughout the store. What the hell is wrong with me! I'd never have even considered such a thing two weeks ago! Is she getting to me that much? He shakes off the feeling.
"Perhaps that would be best," he says peeling the suit off like a second skin, his penis hardening in spite of himself.
She notices his penis and a small smile crosses her lips. When he straightens, boxers in hand as he pulls them up, she gives his cock one slow, gentle, caress, from base to tip, causing him to hiss and twitch. "Perhaps it is, but we're buying these if I have to pay for them myself," she purrs. As he snaps and zips his pants, a noticeable bulge showing in front, she slips out and closes the door. "When you're ready come on out," she says to the closed door, and then turns to the waiting clerk. "These. Definitely these."
The clerk's eyes crinkle as she smiles, taking the suit and ringing it out, causing Kate to wonder if she'd overheard her whispered suggestion they might start fucking in the changing room. Probably not, but imagining him in that suite, I bet she's thinking the same thing I was. Kate transfers the money to the store from her account with a small smile of her own. She kind of liked being the envy of every woman that saw them, and besides, he bought her the suit he likes, and she buys him the suit she likes, and there's a symmetry of that she likes.
Swimsuits purchased, they mosey back to the car, window shopping but not stopping. On the way home he stops at his regular market. She follows him through the store, quietly watching him select a variety of fresh vegetables and fruit, some salmon steaks he seems very pleased with, chicken breasts, a loaf of fresh bread and three kinds of cheese that she'd never heard of, along with a few staples. He then chooses two bottles of wine that he seems torn between before finally selecting one and putting the other back.
"I wish I'd asked Charlie what dessert wine she served at dinner. It was excellent," he says as he puts the bottle back. "In fact, I wish I knew more about wine. We live in one of the greatest wine producing regions of the world, and what I don't know about wine would fill a book," he says bitterly but with a smile.
"You should talk to Giselle Chamfer, Charlie's friend. I would bet that dessert wine that you like so well was picked by Giselle at Charlie's request. According to Charlie, what Giselle knows about wines, would fill a book," she says as they're checked out
Mac smiles to himself as the young clerk checking them out struggles not to stare at Kate. "Is that the same Giselle as in the immersion?" he asks as he looks at the amount due and transfers the money to the store.
"It is."
He grunts noncommittally as he hefts the three bags. "Do you suppose she'd be willing to share what she knows?"
"I don't know. I've only met them once, but they seem nice enough. Why don't you ask Charlie what she thinks?"
He grunts again as he carries the bags to the car. "Maybe I will sometime."
***
Mac closes the refrigerator door after storing the last of the shopping and turns Kate. "Now that we have something for dinner, how about a swim?"
"Sure," she says with a smile. "Are you going to wear the swimsuit I bought you?"
"No," he says firmly.
"Yes, you are," she says just as firmly, but with a giggle.
"No, Kate, I'm not."
"Yes, Mac, you are," she says standing up from her propped position and stepping in close to him. "You're going to wear it because I want you to," she says, her voice becoming lower and more husky. "You want to please me, don't you?" she says softly as she molds herself to his body, tipping his head down to look him in the eyes. "Please, Mac, just this once. For me?"
"I—" he begins.
"Please Mac? No one will see you but me. Please?" she breathes.
He stands his ground a moment before his defiance crumbles. "Goddammit," he mutters, annoyed that she can so easily twist him around her little finger. "Fine. Just this once."
"Thank you, Mac," she breathes again before kissing him quickly but seductively then pulling out of his embrace. "Shall we dress?" she asks, pulling on his hand and leading him to their bedroom.
She dumps the two swimsuits out on the bed and begins removing the tags from her suit as he does the same from his. "Suits like this are not made for guys like me," he grumbles as he starts pulling it on.
She pauses in the tying of her suit to watch as he straightens. "No, you're wrong. You're exactly the type of man suits like that are made for."
She briefly thinks about telling him how hot the suit makes her and how she's looking forward to seeing him walk out of the lake wearing it. That's the stuff dreams are made of. Tearing her eyes away from him, she finishes typing her suit.
"You ready?" she asks.
"Let me get some towels," he says, disappearing into the bathroom, reappearing moments later with a couple of folded cloths.
They walk down a long flight of steps from the deck outside the cathedral to a wooden walk leading to the lake. The walk ends in another small deck on stilts set back from the water, with more steps leading down into the water. Because of the shape of the lake all the boat traffic is well away from shore, leaving them in relative privacy. Looking back, she can just make out the Bannerman's house, but can't see the Vaughan's house at all, though their deck and boat house is plainly visible at the water's edge.
He walks down the steps and slips quietly into the water and begins to swim strongly toward the center of the lake. She begins to follow him but quickly gives up any idea of keeping up with him. He doesn't look like he's swimming that fast, and maybe he isn't, but he's swimming a hell of a lot faster than she can. She pulls up, treads water for a moment, and then strikes off for the ramp the plane uses to lay her trap.
He swims out about three-hundred yards until he feels winded, then turns and starts back to shore. As he nears the shore he pulls up, looking for Kate. Treading water, he experiences a moment of panic until he finds her lying back on the Goose's launching ramp, soaking up the sun. He adjusts his course and begins swimming toward her.
She watches him swimming her way as she leans back and takes a sexy pose, taking care to make sure she can see him walk out of the water. As he stands up, walking out of the lake, the water running from his body as he pushes his hair out of his eyes, she has to suppress a groan. The stuff of dreams, indeed.
"You swim too fast, so I decided to wait for you here," she says as he walks toward her. Holy shit, he looks good in that swimsuit! She wonders if it's private enough to fuck him right here, right now.
"Sorry," he says sitting down on the concrete beside her. "I didn't think. I just wanted to see what I could do."
"It's okay, but I was afraid if I tried to keep up with you, I'd drown. Then you'd have to give me mouth to mouth. Not that I would mind the last part," she says, an impish grin tugging at her lips.
"You wouldn't, would you?" he asks mischievously, leaning down to give her a taste of what that would be like, his lips pressing firmly to hers.
She accepts the kiss hungrily, her passions soaring. She wants him, wants him so badly she can't stand it. She pushes him over onto his back, following him with her kiss, their lips never separating as they slowly roll. He moves, probably to take her into his arms, but the concrete was uncomfortable on her knees. Her desires start to run away with her, and not wanting to get scraped up before the show on Tuesday, she playfully pulls away and quickly rises to her feet. "Catch me if you can," she calls before dashing down the ramp and into the water.
He watches her splash into the water with a smile, before rising and giving chase.
They spend the next two hours laughing and splashing in the water, the bouts of horseplay broken by moments of intimacy. Mac is like a fish, swimming smoothly and easily, and while she can swim, she's not as comfortable in the water as he is, but that doesn't stop her enjoyment of being in the water with him, especially when he holds her so she can rest.
"So, how's your leg?" she asks as they climb out of the water to shower and prepare for dinner. She immediately wonders why she cares. It has been a long time, years maybe, since she cared about something like that in one of her partners. But with Mac, she's genuinely curious and cares that the leg is meeting his expectations.
"It feels great. It really does," he says as they dry. "It is just like my natural leg. I can feel the differences in the water temperature. I couldn't do that before. I can feel the mud between my toes, rather than just feel the bottom, like with my old leg. This new leg is an amazing piece of engineering."
She smiles, strangely pleased for him. "I'm glad. I really am. So, the other night, you couldn't feel me touching you on that leg?"
"I could feel it," he explains, "But it was like a pressure. I couldn't feel the warmth of your hand, or any small motions or light touches you might have been making. Nothing like that. I think I can with this new leg."
"Mmmm..." she purrs. "Something to check tonight."
"Yes, I think we should," he agrees with a smile and kiss.
***
Kate cuts into the steamed salmon that she prepared, under Mac's tutelage of course. With his patient assistance and encouragement, she'd prepared the entire meal of salmon and rice, Mac handing her what she needed, when she needed it, as he instructed her each step of the way, helping her with sure hands when she faltered or was confused.
She places the fish into her mouth, savoring the flavor. She can't really take credit for the taste with his handing her the spices to use and coaching her on the amount to apply, but damn if it isn't good.
"Excellent," he proclaims, smiling at her warmly. "Much better than my first attempts at cooking."
She makes a derisive, spluttering noise. "Hardly my doing," she says, her tone dry, but she's secretly she's quite proud of herself. "Anyone can cook when someone is standing over their shoulder saying, 'Now do this.'"
"Actually, Kate, that isn't entirely true. I've tried to teach others to cook and it was an unmitigated disaster." He smiles at her. "Considering what I found in the kitchen of your house, or more accurately, what I didn't find, I'm pleasantly surprised. At least you know which end of a spatula to hold."
"Other... women? Lovers?" she asks quietly.
"Yes. Does that bother you?"
"No. I was just wondering if you'd admit it."
"Why wouldn't I? You must surely know you are not my first lover."
"Nor you, mine. But some men try to be coy about it. I'm not sure why."
"If you ask a straight question, you deserve a straight answer. I don't see any reason to play games."
She looks at him for a moment. "What a refreshing attitude. So, if I ask a straight question, you'll always give me an honest answer?"
He feels a sudden rush of concern, feeling like she's setting him up, but in for a penny, in for a pound. "Yes."
She smiles at him, wondering if he really means it. Everyone has their little secrets, things they don't want to say. "So..." she begins, drawing the word out. "Compared to all your other women, how do I rate as a lover?" she asks to tease him, not expecting to answer.
"Are you sure you want to know?" he asks seriously.
She's rocked back. Is he really going to answer her honestly, and did she really want to know? "Of course. Unless I'm last on the list, in which case, please lie to me," she says with a faint smile.
"Okay. If you want honest, here's honest," he says before pausing to build the tension. "I've had several lovers that could twist a man up with pleasure beyond belief." He pauses, letting the tension build even more, enjoying watching her squirm in anticipation even as she tries to feign nonchalance. "None of them can come close to what you do to me," he says, grinning as she visibly relaxes.
"That's your honest answer? You're not just saying that because you want something later?"
"No, that's an honest answer," he confirms before pausing. "But fair is fair. How do I rate as a lover?" he asks with a grin.
She looks at him, wondering how to answer. He must surely know that he positively rocks her world. "I don't know, Mac. You've only fucked me. You haven't made love to me yet," she says, surprising herself with her words, regretting them the moment they leave her mouth.
He's surprised to hear her answer, feeling annoyance rising at the criticism, but she looks positively shocked at what she said so he holds to his temper. "Is that something you want me to do, Kate? Make love to you?"
"I'm sorry. That didn't come out the way I meant. I—"
"Just answer the question. Do you want me to make love to you?" he interrupts quietly.
"Mac," she begins again. "That isn't—"
"Kate," he interrupts a second time. "I know what you meant. And you're right. I've just been fucking you." He pauses, looking deep into her eyes. "Would you like me to make love to you? Tonight?"
She looks into his eyes for a long time. "Yes," she finally says, looking away, trying to hide her embarrassment. Two nights in a row she's said the stupidest thing. She'll be lucky if he doesn't take her home in the morning.
He points with his fork. "Your fish is getting cold," he says, clearly dropping the subject.
She wants to cry. She feels like such a fool, but she reigns in her emotions and smiles. "And it'd be a shame to waste it."
"Yes would," he says, resuming his meal.
He doesn't know what to make of her comment. He's over his annoyance, deciding that she didn't mean it as a criticism of him, but what did she mean? Did she even know herself? There's no doubt her statement held a kernel of truth though. He's been fucking her, taking her for the sheer physical pleasure of it, and giving it back in kind, with no more emotional attachment than he has for this piece of fish he's eating. But as he thinks about it, he realizes he's becoming fond of her. He likes having her around for reasons other than the use of her body. So yes, maybe it is time to move beyond fucking into something more... substantial. He looks at her. Despite her efforts to hide it, she looks miserable. Well, maybe he can change that tonight.
She finds she's no longer hungry, eating because the food is there in front of her, kicking herself for her damnable mouth. Why do I have to say such stupid things? She wants to apologize to him for what she said, but holds her tongue, afraid of making matters worse. She picks at her fish, trying to hold up her end of the conversion, but miserable inside all the same.
After dinner he shoo's her away to the couch overlooking the lake. As she sits, he cleans up the kitchen and dinner dishes before cubing some of each cheese he'd bought and pouring two glasses of wine, carrying the cheese and wine with him to join her on the couch.
As he putters about in the kitchen, she decides he deserves an apology, not missing the fact that she'll have apologized to him more in a week than she has with any five of her previous lovers, combined. That, in itself, must mean something, though she's not sure what, other than she has a big mouth sometimes. As he steps around the end of the couch, cheese board in hand, she smiles.
"Mac, I just want to—"
He interrupts her before she can even get the word out. "Shhh. Nothing to apologize for. I asked an honest question. I got an honest answer. Don't worry about it. Take the glasses, please, so I can sit this down."
She takes the glasses, places them on the table and then turns back to him. "Mac, please, just let me finish. I didn't mean that the way it came out. I'm sorry for the way it sounded. I wasn't criticizing you or how you have acted and... I'm sorry."
He leans over and kisses her gently on the lips. "I know. I didn't take it that way, so don't worry about it, okay? And I think you made a valid point. Now, you've said your piece. Can we just enjoy this excellent wine and cheese?"
***
They sit, Kate leaning against Mac, once again watching the sun settle behind the trees, nibbling on the cheese and sipping the wine, talking little. She doesn't know what to make of Mac, a man that apparently refuses to be offended no matter the provocation, and who is gentle and understanding, almost to a fault. So why she does she still feel like shit?
"I'm ready for bed. Are you?" he asks, standing and slipping first one empty glass then the second into the cheese board holder, offering her a hand up.
She checks the time. It is still early, only ten-fifteen. "Yes, if you are," she says, hiding her disappointment.
She helps him with the cheese board, then, as they walk down the hall, she turns into her bedroom. He stops abruptly, stepping into the guest room with her. "Why'd you come in here? I'd much rather make love to you in my room. More romantic with the view, wouldn't you agree?" he asks with a soft smile.
She looks into his eyes. "Mac... I don't know what to do. I'm all twisted up inside from what I said. I can't tell if you're upset and just not telling me, or what."
"Come with me," he says, taking her hand and pulling her gently. "Let me show you." He leads her into his bedroom, stopping by the bed. He makes no move, looking into her large brown eyes for a long moment before he steps around behind her, kissing her on the neck as he begins to slowly unbutton her blouse.
She allows him to undo her shirt, her hand curling to the back of his head as he kisses her neck from behind. He's being deliberate, slow, seeming in no hurry to have her as he slowly opens the front of her blouse, his fingers gently caressing her under her breasts before returning to the buttons. Shirt open, he slowly peels it over her shoulders, kissing at the flesh as it's revealed. Her heart speeds up and her wetness flows in anticipation of the pleasures to come. Shirt removed, he softly drags his fingers down her back, causing her to shiver from the sensation.
He smiles when she wiggles as he draws his fingers down her back. Hands at her waist, he unbuttons her shorts, sliding the zipper down to open the front, but not pushing them down. He allows his finger to slowly roam, but doesn't touch her womanhood, causing her to move gently as he drags his finger slowly under the lip of her panties as she twists her head around to kiss him on the lips.
He's driving her insane with his slow, delicate touch, touching her everywhere except where she wants him to touch. She twists her head back, pulling his lips to her own. It isn't the most comfortable position, but she's desperate to taste his lips. As they kiss, he slowly slides her shorts and panties down. The moment they loosen over her hips, she shakes her legs, causing the clothing to fall to the floor. Pants removed, she's finally naked, having not put on a bra after showering from the swim. She steps out of her pants and turns in one smooth motion, pulling him in with arms around his neck as she kisses him, really kisses him, rising on her tiptoes as she flows into his arms. He gently pushes her to the bed, softly trying to force her onto it, but she resists his push.
"No. Please, Mac, no," she breathes as she pushes him away.
As he backs off, she holds his gaze with a smile that can stop a man's heart. Her fingers slowly begin opening the buttons on his shirt, her lips following the growing opening down his chest. He begins to breathe deep as she works her magic on him.
His shirt unbuttoned, she pushes it open with her hands, allowing her fingers to glide along the rippling muscles of his form, her lips coming to rest on his left nipple, her tongue slowly swirling around it as it hardens under her caress. Lips and tongue busy on his chest, she begins to free his manhood, unbuckling his belt and pants, not rushing, taking her time, enjoying the process of undressing him. As her hand slides down the front of his pants and into his underwear, taking his turgid manhood into her hand, she can feel his body stiffen as he issues a long, low, groaning exhalation.
As she grips his penis, he shrugs out of his shirt and then pushes his pants down, pulling her into his body, needing to feel the touch of her flesh to his, their lips coming together once more. She releases his cock and uses both hands to pull them together before leaning back, allowing him to lower her to the bed. His bed is an ultra-king, fully seven and a half feet square. As they settle on the bed, he rolls, pulling her with him as he scoots to the center before rolling back over and pinning her under him.
She helps him move to the center of the bed, then allows him to position himself over her without protest, his arms under her back, his hard cock pressing against her womanhood as she opens for him. He doesn't enter her, only lying against her instead, looking into her eyes as she watches his face, waiting to see what he does.
He watches her eyes, feeling himself grow harder still, painfully hard, as he anticipates the pleasures to come. He slowly brings his lips to hers, their tongues slowly entwining when he gently enters her, the feel of her flesh intoxicating as he settles lightly onto her body.
Her back arches in pleasure as he slowly sinks to her depths and holds himself deep inside her. Slowly, maddeningly, he begins to move with long, gentle thrusts, his cock sliding in delicious pleasure inside of her as passion of their kiss increases. She can't stand it, pushing his mouth from hers so she can breathe, the pleasure causing her to clench her eyes tight as his slow, gentle, thrusting sends a new wave of pleasure through her on every stroke.
When she pushes his lips away to hold them tightly to her neck, Mac begins kissing her neck and shoulder, slowly losing himself in the lovemaking. Each time he and Kate have joined, it has been violent, explosive, but not tonight. Tonight, they're taking their time, enjoying the closeness, very much making love instead of fucking.
Her orgasm is coming, and she opens herself to it. Tonight, in this slow, gentle, erotic, giving and taking of pleasure, she no longer feels the need to show him he can't out-fuck her. She'll let him give her orgasms, and she'll give him his, but there is no competition, just two people giving of themselves. As her orgasm surrounds her, enveloping her, she begins to groan as she's overwhelmed with pleasure.
She begins to stiffen as her orgasm takes her. When she gasps, her body gently quivering as she clings to him, he pauses in his thrusting, allowing her to take her release, to experience the joy of her orgasm, no longer feeling he has anything to prove.
As she comes out of her orgasm she moves, reaching for his lips with her own, hungry for his kiss. As their lips caress, he begins to thrust again, harder, with more urgency, sending her passions spiraling. She clings to him, wanting his closeness, reveling in the feeling as he settles more firmly onto her. Already she can feel a second orgasm coming, just moments behind her first, and she begins to kiss him frantically to draw the orgasm in.
He can sense her winding up for a second climax as he drives into her faster, harder, pushing her toward her release. Her hands roam his back, grasping at him, her fingers tangling his hair as she begins to moan softly into his mouth. Her kiss becomes frenzied with her desire until, with a great gasp, she pulls away and then lunges at him, her mouth at his ear as she grasps him with desperate strength while whimpering softly.
She's ravaged by her second orgasm in as many minutes as she holds to him, her body trying to curl in on itself in pleasure, holding him tight as he slows his thrusting, letting her climax flow through her. As her pleasure washes out of her she feels warm, fulfilled and something akin to loved. She relaxes her grip on him, settling back onto the bed with a smile of contentment, opening her eyes to watch his face. There has been no doubt that he's skillful in bed, knowing fully how to please a woman, but she now knows he can be a gentle and considerate lover as well. She places her hands gently on the sides of his face as he smiles at her.
He watches as her face melts into a softness she's never shown before, her hands caressing his face with great tenderness. He smiles softly at her, feeling a closeness with her he hasn't felt in a long time. He slowly takes her lips, kissing her slowly, gently, his hips still as they focus on the kiss, their tongues dancing.
She has been well kissed before, but never has she had such a slow, erotic, and deeply satisfying kiss as the one she's sharing now. As the kiss continues, he begins to move, slowly at first, his thrusts slow and easy, but as he continues his thrusts become harder, more forceful, slowly increasing in speed. Her two orgasms have taken the edge off and she purrs in pleasure as she settles in to accept the pleasure he's giving her.
He makes love to her, slowly, for many long moments, until his orgasm begins encroaching on him. He once again covers her mouth with his own, the eroticism of the kiss as they make love driving him toward his orgasm. "I'm going to come," he whispers as he slowly withdraws from the kiss.
"Please come with me, please come with me," she gasps, his impending orgasm urging her toward her third climax. "Harder," she gasps, reaching for her final release of the night.
With her plea, he begins to drive into her harder and faster than anytime during the night, driving her to another orgasm. He tightens his control, holding to his pleasure, waiting for her to catch up to him so that they can peak together.
When he begins pounding into her, her rapture blooms in power. "Yes! Yes! Just like that," she gasps as she tugs him tighter to her and dragging her orgasm closer.
"Come. I want you to come," he whispers, encouraging her, trying to whip her into a frenzy. "I want to you to come with me."
Her orgasm is closing around her again, her eyes once again squeezing shut as her pleasure saps her control. "I'm coming... ohhhh... I'm coming!" she grinds out as she begins to tumble into the abyss.
As she announces her fall, he relaxes his control, letting his orgasm overtake him, until with a final hard thrust, he drives deep into her as he empties himself. He has had many orgasms that were more powerful, but few as deeply satisfying as this one. As he breathes deeply, enjoying his release, he looks once more into her smiling face. He slowly lowers his lips to hers, taking her lips in a lingering kiss.
They kiss, allowing the flames of their desire to cool while basking in the lingering warmth of their lovemaking. After a time, he rolls off her, allowing her to move, neither speaking and no words necessary. She crawls into his arms, her hand slowly stroking his chest as his hand caresses her back. She's content, satisfied at a very deep level, fulfilled in a way that a good hard fuck can't match. She's happy, happy to be here with him and sharing his bed. With a final deep sigh of contentment, she smiles softly as she drifts slowly into sleep.
He lies still, holding her close, thinking about the pleasures that she has given him over the last few days, but unsure of his feelings toward her. He barely knows her, but he can't deny the growing attraction he feels for her, but is this attraction of the flesh, or of the soul? He's not sure, sure only that having her here for only one more day is a bittersweet thought, not wanting her to go but knowing she can't stay. He continues to think about her, and tomorrow, until he too slips quietly into slumber.