Mack Daddy(56)

“You need a drink.”

His reply took me aback.

“I need a f*ck is what I need, Frankie. Want to volunteer? If not, I bet Clarissa would be down for that.”

That burned.

He was mad and intentionally trying to get a rise out of me. But I took it without dishing anything back because I felt like I somehow deserved it after this morning. I could see right through him. More than anything, he looked hurt.

Still completely soaking wet, he got up suddenly and exited the room without saying goodbye. All eyes seemed to be on him as he walked through the gymnasium and eventually out into the parking lot. I watched as he got into his truck and sped away.

I stood there frozen at the entrance, unsure of what to do. Lorelai had taken over manning the pastry table. The right thing would have been to stay and figure out another way to help. But I was so done with going against my own happiness to do the right thing.

As I escaped into my car, I decided I was going straight home to face Victor, to tell him I would be moving out. It was the right decision, even if things didn’t work out with Mack. My having such intense feelings for another person wasn’t fair to him. So, I told myself I was heading to our condo on Beacon Hill. But the reality was, I was driving down Route Nine toward Framingham.

When I arrived at his house, Mack’s truck was parked outside.

He was home.

I nervously knocked on the door, thankful that Mrs. M. was nowhere in sight.

After about a minute, he opened, still looking angry as hell. “What are you doing here?”

All of our time together seemed to flash before me as I looked into his pained and exhausted eyes. It had all come down to this moment.

Say something.

“I’m still her, Mack—that, awkward, unsure girl who’s just in awe of you. I’ve been enamored with you for many different reasons over the years, but today, seeing you with your son, well, I’ve never loved you more. I love you. And I see you. I see how hard you try. I see all the love you have to give.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “You should go home.”

Not this time.

“I’ve been lost and scared, but I’m pretty sure this is home.”

Grabbing onto the wet material of his shirt, I stood on my toes and pressed my lips against his. For a split second, it seemed like he was going to resist, but then I felt his tongue slip into my mouth, and a deep groan of concession escape him.

“Fuck,” he muttered over my lips as he gripped my ass before pulling me into the house and kicking the door shut. I knew the second I heard it slam that there was no turning back.

Mack bumped into some furniture as he walked backwards while he kissed me harder. He unwound the paisley scarf that had been wrapped around my neck and threw it carelessly onto the ground. Refusing to detach ourselves long enough to see around us, we stumbled down the hall, practically glued at the mouth until we were finally in his bedroom.

The shades were drawn, but there was just enough light coming in for me to be able see him. Running my fingers through his damp hair, I could taste beer on his breath. He must have opened a bottle the second he got home, certainly not expecting that I would follow him here. More than the beer, though, I could taste him. For the first time in my life, I got to taste the man of my dreams and become intoxicated by his indescribable, yet addictive, flavor. Breathless, wet, and shaking, nothing else mattered in the world anymore. Reaching up as high as I could on my tippy toes, I refused to come up for air as we consumed each other, our tongues colliding in a desperate struggle for more.

He growled over my lips, “You’d better leave right now if you have any intention of going back to him, because I don’t plan to leave an inch of you unmarked. I’ll give you ten seconds to walk away.” He started to count, kissing me in between each number he recited. “Ten…nine…eight…seven…” He lowered his mouth to gently bite my neck. “Six…five…four…three…two…” He kissed upward then whispered over my mouth, “One.”

I hadn’t budged.

Mack took hold of my wrists, locking them behind my back before flipping me around toward his bedroom wall. “You’ve always belonged to me, haven’t you, Frankie?” His kiss was no longer gentle as he sucked voraciously on the skin at the back of my neck. The heat of his breath was making me crazy. My entire body went limp, completely submitting to him. “I need you…now,” he panted in my ear. “Need to f*ck you hard. Please don’t tell me to stop.”

“I won’t.” My nipples stiffened. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He slid his hands up my sides then began to unbutton my blouse before practically ripping it off of me and tossing it aside.

My cheek was pressed gently against the wall as he slowly kissed a line down my back.

His hands moved to my waist, where he pulled the fabric of my skirt down just low enough to see the tattoo on my lower back.

I closed my eyes and waited. Ten seconds felt like a minute.

Then, I felt his lips tenderly kissing the area of my skin where the lotus flower was inked. He gripped my hips and continued to kiss over my tattoo, grazing me with his tongue. Having his mouth on my body was making me so incredibly wet with an urgent need to feel him inside of me.

Suddenly, I felt my underwear sliding down.

“They’re so freaking wet,” he muttered. “I need to taste it.”