Macon nodded. “Sounds good. Joshua stopped by here earlier to say goodnight, right?”
I smiled, my heart growing two sizes at the thought. “He was so cute and excited. He can’t wait to tell them all about Mama Cat and her babies.”
Macon winced. “I think we named her Mama Cat. My grandfather had a cat up in Oregon named Mama Cat, actually. A wild feral that hated me. However, it looks like the new Mama Cat has a name.”
I shook my head. “Either that or we’ll make something work.”
“Oh, you guys are too cute.”
I glared at Pop and then grabbed my phone. “Come on. We’ll walk you to your car. I have to stay here and finish up the last couple of things that can’t be done at home. If I didn’t, I would head out for the day with you.”
Pop studied my face. “Just stay safe. And I want to hear all about Joshua’s sleepover.”
“I can’t believe my baby boy is big enough for a sleepover,” I said, and Macon wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head.
“Well, he’s still going to come running to you for a long while.”
“Six just seems too young.”
Macon shrugged. “It’s with his best friend, and I have a feeling the other boy’s mother has already been texting you.”
“Every twenty minutes with pictures. They’re adorable.”
“Make sure you show them to me, too,” Pop said.
“I’ll forward them to you,” I ensured.
We made sure Pop got to her car. After she drove off, Macon took my hand and led me back into the Boulder Bean. We closed the area, made sure it was locked, then went back to my office.
“I hate that you have to be here for this. There are just some things I need to finish here. After that, we do not have to stay. It’s got to be boring for you.”
Macon shook his head and then pulled out his tablet. “I have a few things I can do here. And you have this nice comfy chair. Don’t worry, we’ll just work some, and then we’ll get something to eat.”
“You’re going to stay the night?” I asked, swallowing hard.
“You know I want to,” he whispered.
“What are we doing?” I asked without thinking.
He set down his tablet on the desk and then stood up, prowling towards me. He put a hand on either side of me on my office chair and leaned forward, his forehead resting against mine, his presence so big, so…Macon.
“What is it you think we’re doing?” he asked.
“You can’t just ask a question in answer to a question.”
“I do believe I have. Now, I suppose I should answer your original one. As to what we’re doing? Anything you want. But you know we’re not just friends, Dakota. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”
I swallowed hard, looking up at him. I wanted to reach out and trail my fingers down his chest, but I didn’t. Somehow, I resisted. “You know this is a mistake. There’s so much going on. We shouldn’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He leaned forward just a bit more, his lips close to mine. “You’re not going to hurt me. And I’m not going to hurt you. But, Dakota? I want to fucking kiss you.”
“Then kiss me,” I whispered.
Suddenly, his lips were on mine, and I was lost.
He kissed me slowly as if learning my mouth, figuring out exactly what I tasted like and absorbing the essence of my touch. He tasted of coffee and warmth. And I wanted more. I craved it.
And then my hands were on his chest, feeling the hardness of him. When my palm moved over the center of his chest, he froze for the barest instant, and I pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Scar’s always going to be there, Dakota. I guess I should get used to you touching it.”
“I thought that was my line,” I whispered.
He smiled then and reached up to pluck me off the chair.
I let out a gasp, and then my ass was on my desk, his tablet hitting the floor.
“Macon!”
“It’s insured. It’ll be fine. Probably. I don’t give a fuck.”
When his mouth crashed into mine, I dug my fingers into his hair, and he squeezed my hips. He slid in between my legs, and I wrapped myself around him, clinging, needing.
“This is insane,” I whispered.
“This is a long time coming.”
He kept kissing me, trailing his lips down my neck, tugging on my shirt. I did the same for him, and he held up his arms and let me strip him. He had put on a t-shirt after work, and now he was bare to his jeans, the long, lean lines of him intoxicating. His chest was broad, and he had an eight-pack. A freaking eight-pack.
And even though I knew it was wrong, I wanted to picture him in the ring, sweat-slick as he fought and used every single one of his muscles.
Of course, I also wanted to see those muscles being used in other ways, as he hovered over me, sliding inside me.
“What just gave you that look? What were you thinking?” he asked, hesitance in his voice.
I looked up at him, past the scar I knew he thought I was staring at.
“I was thinking about you fucking me after you fought. And I knew it was wrong.” I reached out and gently laid my hand over his scar. He twitched, freezing. “Macon, I wasn’t thinking about this. Unless you want me to. I was just thinking about you.”
He put his hand over mine and squeezed. “I want to see you.”
“Then do. And touch me. Because I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
Who was this woman? I had been on dates before, a couple after Adam. I’d had sex before. I liked it. I used to think I was good at sex.
But
