Page 42 of Hero Hair
Chapter Thirteen
Teala
I’ve never felt as well fucked as I did when Macs dropped me off at my apartment that night. He offered to let me spend the night, but I had to get home to my mom. I knew she wouldn’t care if I left her alone for a night, but I’d have to answer more questions than I’m ready to. Questions I’m not even sure I know how to answer. Macs was a different person today.
I’m lying in my bed, staring at the black ceiling, wondering what in the ever-loving fuck I’m going to do about the problem at hand. He asked me tospend the night. I’m in deep water, or deep something.
I’m falling for him, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s definitely warming up to me. Or at least the idea of a relationship with me. He asked me to accompany him to visit his parents. We leave this weekend. It’s a little bit of a drive and I’m already giddy at the prospect of being trapped in his car with him for any length of time. The unfortunate part is that this is officially a date we can mess around again, and we’ll be at his parents’ house. The date after that, Charlotte and Jasmine said is officially deemed the sex date.
If they only knew what we’ve already done is the equivalent of sex in so many ways. He finger fucked me so well that my eyes rolled back in my head. The man knows how to work a clit. The man knows how to work a woman’s body. He sees no reason to pretend he’s something he’s not. Macs has been around the block and knows exactly what he’s doing. We are a match in that department, and if I had to guess I’d say my skills at sucking dick are what enamored him most. It’s why I was sort of sad after I blew him.
He looked at me like I was an alien, his eyes wide with wonder and his lips forming a beatific smile. My phone alerts me to a text from Macs.
Still thinking about your blowjobs.
I sigh. Instead of replying with text, I snap a photo of my black ceiling and hit send. I should be happy I attracted his attention, but I’m not stupid. I know his interest will wane and I’ll just be another woman on his long list. I roll over to sleep, but my phone rings.
It’s Macs. I hit the green button quickly, not wanting to wake up my mom in the room next door. She’s been asleep for a while, but I’m unable to force my brain to turn off. “Hello,” I say, whispering even though I know there’s no way she can hear me talking through the thick wall.
“Why don’t you ever reply to my texts?” he asks without any sort of greeting first.
“I do,” I tell him, rolling over to my back to look at the ceiling again. “I sent you my ceiling.”
“While I appreciate the view of your ceiling, I’d rather see it while you’re riding my cock. You know that’s not what I mean,” Macs growls.
My core clenches with desire. I have no control over it anymore. Any talk of Macs and sex and I’m as horny as a teenager. I want anything he’ll give me.
“I think photos say more than words can,” I say.
I hear his deep breathing for several long moments. It’s the only indication he hasn’t hung up the phone.
“Sometimes I want your words. It helps me understand what’s inside your head.”
Hah! What’s inside my head would make a smart man run in the opposite direction. When my father left my mother, he bashed her so unmercifully I remember overhearing her talking on the phone to a friend. She said words like useless, and inept, weak-willed…words like clinging, gullible, obsessive, and overemotional. My father broke her with these words.
“I want to know you better, Teala. Do you understand?”
His words are a punch in the stomach. He cares far more than I gave him credit for. I’m not sure how to reply. I’ve never been in the business of accepting feelings. I do everything in my power to reject them. Their feelings and mine both. I click on my bedside lamp because I want to be able to see. Not that seeing makes a difference, but the darkness feels as if it’s closing in and my stomach is flipping with unease.
“Are you there?” he asks.
I clear my throat. “I’m here. I’m trying to figure out how to respond. Sorry,” I explain.
Macs lets out a groan that sounds more like a growl. “Listen, forget I said anything.”
Shit. “No. No. I understand what you’re saying. It surprised me. I thought we were on the same page.” I lie. “I want you to know me better.” I chose my words carefully by flipping his statement.
“It would be helpful for when you meet my parents,” he says. The butterflies that were in my stomach sink faster than the Titanic. “Especially my mother. She’s in the business of asking too many questions.”
“Oh. For the game.” I click the light back off and roll over, keeping the phone by my ear.
“Of course,” he says. “Unless…”
“Unless what?” I ask. “Don’t pretend you care. I’ll respond to texts with words from now on. What do you want to know about me? What would be prudent to understand for your parents?”
“Are you mad?”
I sigh. “What do you think?”
