MacNamarasLady (11 page)

“You were a cheerleader?” Oh yeah, he could
easily imagine her long, slender body in one of those cute little outfits while
she jumped around. She’d been sexy as hell.

“That’s all you got from that statement?”
She pulled her car in behind his truck.

“What can I say? My male mind kinda stalled
at cheerleader.”

Missy put the car in park and burst out
laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

“But you like me.” He leaned over and
kissed her square on the lips. She froze but quickly thawed and got into the
kiss. Damn, but she made him hotter than a seventeen-year-old with a girl in
the backseat of his daddy’s car. Not that T.S. had ever borrowed his dad’s car
as a teen. His dad had split when he was four. He barely even remembered the
guy. The closest he’d come was driving his older brother’s beater and the one
time he’d tried to impress a girl in that car had led to disaster.

He shut out the past. It was easy to do,
especially when the present was much more pleasurable. Plus, he’d had a lot of
practice. He didn’t talk about his past. Ever.

He eased back. Missy’s eyes were closed.
Her lips were soft and damp and slightly parted. Her breathing was erratic. She
was as turned on as he was by the simple caress. “Why don’t you follow me back
to my place?”

He wasn’t sure why he’d issued the
invitation. He’d told himself their time together was done. But he wasn’t quite
ready for that yet, hadn’t worked her out of his system.

“Okay.”

He hadn’t been expecting her easy agreement
and was inordinately pleased by it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Follow me and don’t get lost.” He dropped
another quick kiss on her lips before quickly climbing out of her car, making
certain to lock the door behind him. He hurried to his truck and signaled to
Missy when he was ready. He drove slowly, making it easy for her to stay with
him as they traversed the streets of Chicago.

It usually only took about twenty minutes
to get home from Lucas’, but it took a bit longer as they’d stopped at a local
pharmacy so he could get his prescriptions filled and pick up some supplies for
bandaging his wound.

Finally, they arrived at his place. His
apartment was on the top floor of a refurbished brownstone in an older section
of the city. It had been a slum more than twenty years ago, but was now a
blue-collar neighborhood. He liked it here. He also owned the building. Not
many people knew that. He had buildings all over the area that he’d bought
cheap and turned into affordable housing for regular families.

He pulled into the driveway and turned off
the ignition. He loved coming home. This building had been his first. He’d
created a home for himself, as well as a source of income.

He climbed out and waited as Missy walked
up the short driveway. “What do you think?”

She studied the older building that he’d
lovingly restored. He’d spent more money than he should have on this one, but
he’d known he was going to live here and that had made the extra cost worth it.
“It’s lovely.”

His shoulders straightened and he felt
proud as a peacock. Not that he needed her approval, but he wanted her to like
his home. “Let me show you the inside.” He ushered her up the three steps to
the front door. He unlocked it and stepped inside. There was a closed door with
a brass knocker off to the right. “There are four apartments in the place. Two
small ones on this floor, and one large one on each of the next two floors. I
have the one on the third floor.”

“The penthouse,” she teased.

“Exactly.”

Missy ran her fingers over the oak banister
as they walked up the stairs. “This place is really something. My building is new
and clean, but it’s generic. This is…special.”

“I think so.” He unlocked the door to his
apartment and ushered her inside. The foyer opened up right into the living
area of his home. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable with a leather
sectional, a big screen television and several chairs. A large bookcase flanked
one wall, displaying books and art pieces he’d collected over time.

“This is really nice.” Missy kicked off her
shoes and wandered into the room, trailing her fingers over the back of the sofa.

His balls drew up tight as he watched her
fingers stroke the soft leather. He wanted those fingers on his body,
specifically on his cock. “Glad you think so.”

She shot him a grin as she took off her
coat. “More settled, less frat boy than I imagined.”

“What can I say? I’m fairly domesticated.”
He toed off his shoes and hung up the ruined tuxedo jacket he’d worn home. He’d
worn it more for warmth than anything else. He was going to have to buy the
damn thing from the rental place. The pants weren’t in much better shape than
the jacket.

He’d deal with that tomorrow. For now, he
was happy to be home and have Missy here with him. He walked into the kitchen
and noticed the answering machine was blinking. He hadn’t been home since
Saturday afternoon so he’d probably missed quite a few calls. He didn’t worry,
though. Anyone with an emergency could have reached him on his cell.

He hit the button and waited. Two hang-ups,
a couple of telemarketers, but the final message was from his mom. “Theo, are
you home? I hate talking to machines,” she muttered. “Call me.”

He sensed Missy behind him, her curiosity
as she joined him. His hope that she’d missed the message was dashed when she
smiled. “Theo, huh?”

“Don’t start.” He wagged a finger at her.

“Is it short for Theodore?”

“No, it’s not.”

“What does the S stand for?”

God, she looked gorgeous standing there
with a huge smile on her face while she teased him about his name. She’d
changed before they’d left her place. She’d pulled on a faded pair of jeans
that molded to her long, lean legs and clung to her curves. She’d paired it
with a soft, blue sweater that just hit the waistband of her jeans. T.S. kept
watching it, hoping it would rise up and show a dark swathe of her stomach.

“I’m not telling.”

She walked two fingers up his chest. “Come
on, tell me.” She pouted, bringing his attention to her mouth, specifically her
slightly moist lips. She’d slicked some kind of gloss on them before they’d
left her place. Made them look even more lush than usual. He wanted to lick
them. His cock twitched and his balls drew up tighter.

He caught her hand and brought it to his
lips, kissing her knuckles. “I was named after both my grandfathers on my
mother’s side. Unfortunately, neither of them had very good names. I’ve got to
make a quick call.”

Reluctantly, he released her hand and
reached for the phone. His mother would worry if he didn’t call her. She’d
already lost one son. Cameron had died as he’d lived. Violently. Caught in a
prison fight with someone bigger and meaner than himself.

T.S. dialed and waited while the phone
rang. It was picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mama. You looking for me?”

“Theo.” The way she said his name made his
chest tighten. No matter what had happened in his life, his mother had always
been there for him. “You didn’t call, so I worried.”

He always called his mother on Saturday.
With everything that had happened it had slipped his mind. “Sorry about that.
But I told you I had the wedding to go to this weekend.”

“How was it? That Lucas is such a good boy.
Such a hard worker.” He grinned. Only his mother would call Lucas Squires a
boy. “The wedding was great.” He chatted for a few more minutes, very aware of
Missy watching him and listening while trying desperately to appear like she
wasn’t.

“Listen, Mama. I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to
you tomorrow.” It took another minute to get off the phone, but his mother was
reassured and happy. That was all that mattered to him.

Missy was perched on his kitchen
countertop, her expression was…sad. That was the only word he could come up
with to describe it. Maybe wistful. Melancholy. “Everything okay?”

She nodded, but didn’t look any more
convinced than he was. “You and your mom are close.”

It wasn’t a question but he answered her
anyway. “Yeah, we are. It’s just her and me now. My dad split when I was little
more than a baby. My brother died about ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It is what it is.” He didn’t
want to talk about it. “How about you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not close to
my family at all.”

Now he was curious. He walked over and
crowded her until she parted her legs to make room for him. He rested his hands
on the countertop, effectively caging her in. “Any brothers or sisters?”

Her features tightened with anger. “Two
brothers. Both older. But I haven’t seen them in years. One sister. We exchange
Christmas cards and talk once or twice a year.”

“That’s too bad.”

“It is what it is.” She threw his words
back at him. “We weren’t close when we were kids so it’s nothing new.”

And it was time to drop the subject,
especially if he hoped to coax her into his bed, which he most certainly did.
He leaned forward and nuzzled her neck. “You smell good, like summer.” And she
did. Whatever soap or lotion or perfume she used permeated her skin. It was a
subtle fragrance, not overpowering.

He left a trail of kisses as he worked his
way up to her ear. The short hairstyle she wore left it exposed. She wore a
tiny diamond stud in her lobe. Very sexy. He captured it between his teeth and
tugged gently. She gasped and some of the tension fled her body.

Using his tongue, he traced the whorls of
her ear. “You’re so damn sexy. I love those high heels you wear all the time.”

“Really?” He could hear the disbelief in
her voice.

“Really. Why would you think otherwise?
They make your legs look hot.”

She gave a muffled laugh. “Most men
complain about them. They don’t like being shorter than me.”

“Most men are idiots.” He nibbled on her
jawline.

She laughed again. Damn but he loved the
sound, husky and deep. His dick liked it too. The damn thing was standing at
attention, ready to rock and roll. “I agree.”

“But not me.” He captured her lips in a
torrid kiss. Wet heat surrounded his tongue as he thrust it into her mouth. She
sucked on it, making a hot little mewling sound in the back of her throat.

T.S. captured her hips in his hands and
pulled her to the edge of the counter, grinding her pelvis against him. The
height was wrong for what he wanted, so he lifted her.

Her legs automatically closed around him,
her arms winding around his neck. Oh yeah, this was what he wanted. Chest to
chest, his cock pressed against her mound. He shoved her up against the wall
for support as he continued to plunder her incredible mouth. Their tongues
twined and their teeth clinked several times as they tried to get even closer.

He had to have her. Now.

He tore his mouth from hers. “Missy.” He
wanted to say so much more but could only get her name out before he had to
kiss her again. They were both panting hard when he leaned back. This time he
reached for her top. She helped him by raising her arms.

“Fuck me.” The words came out more as
adulation than a curse. She wasn’t wearing a bra beneath her sweater. Sweat
broke out on his forehead as he savored the sight of her firm breasts. Her skin
was like dark chocolate, smooth and sweet. He bent his head and lapped at one
puckered nipple.

Missy laughed. “No, fuck me.” Her laugh
turned to a moan when he tugged on her nipple. She pulled on his shirt, careful
not to jar his injured arm. “You need to take this off.”

Absolutely. He was totally on board with
that suggestion. He teased her other nipple with his teeth and tongue, drawing
another moan from her before he decided it was time for him to lose some of his
clothing and more of hers.

Her feet hit the ground and she steadied
herself. T.S. didn’t waste any time. He yanked off the hated green scrub top.
The damn thing was going in the garbage. He never wanted to see it again.

Missy didn’t hesitate. She moved in quick,
using her wicked mouth on him. Her hands caressed his torso while her tongue
flicked at his flat nipples. It was his turn to moan. Damn, she turned him on
so quick it was crazy.

He went to work on her jeans, flipping open
the button and easing down the zipper. He eased his hands past the waistband
and lower to cup her rounded butt. The panties she was wearing were little
barrier against his touch. He couldn’t wait to get them off her.

First, he had to kiss her again. Taste her.
He squeezed her ass as he delved into her mouth. Exploring. Claiming.

Her hands were everywhere—shoulders,
biceps, stomach, back. She was careful of his wounded arm. He could have told
her it didn’t matter. Sure the injury hurt but he didn’t care. Having her hands
on him was more important. Besides, that’s what painkillers were for and he’d
take one later if he needed to.

Everywhere she touched him his skin
tightened, wanting more. Her nails dug into his back, the sting an erotic
caress.