Page 13 of Seizing Mack
Chapter Six
~ Mack ~
“Why are you eatingdried ball sacks?”
Mack glanced up from the table to see her housemate, Jay, looking at her with an expression of abject horror.
“They arenotdried ball sacks,” she huffed. “They’re organic Turkish figs.” She held up the container so he could read the label. They didn’t hold the same comfort factor as warm, fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies, but they were sweet and rich enough to be a viable, healthy alternative when a quick fix was needed.
After dealing with Delilah, she needed all the sweet, comforting richness her organic diet would allow. When she wasn’t prying her man-crazy stepsister away from attractive male members, she was trying to teach her enough basic Receptionist 101 stuff to make her passably useful. It had barely been a week and Mack was already toying with the idea of drugging Dee and putting her ass on a plane. She had even gone as far as calling the airport, but the man at the ticket counter hung up when she asked when the next flight to ‘somewhere far away and hostile’ was.
Jay scrunched his perfectly straight Grecian nose, his smoldering hazel eyes suspicious. “Theylooklike dried ball sacks.”
Leaning against the doorframe and wearing nothing more than a pair of board shorts on his slim hips and showcasing an impressive V of roped male muscle, Jay would have had most women panting. However, because Jay was Mack’s best friend—and because he was one hundred percent gay—she barely noticed beyond an appreciative glance. Half the women who joined her gym the year before did so after Jay was featured in a popular men’s underwear ad and credited Mack for his healthy diet and exercise program.
“Hmmm,” Mack hummed, holding the fruit in her palm and studying it. “You’re right. Never noticed that before.” She took a bite and rolled her eyes back in her head. “Delicious.”
Jay winced, his lightly bronzed face turning abnormally pale as he instinctively covered his crotch. “You are a vicious, vicious woman. No wonder you’re sitting home alone on a Saturday night.”
Mack stuck her tongue out at him. Given what she was chewing at the time, it was not a pretty sight.
“Ew, Mack. Just ew. And what’s got you horking carbs anyway?”
She shot him a venomous look that could have singed the hair from his body, assuming he had any. As a male model, his skin was nothing but a smooth, pristine canvas. A lesser woman might have been jealous of just how perfect his skin was.
“Oh, right,” he laughed. “Spa day. How’d it go?”
Mack growled at him. In a goodwill effort of superhuman proportions, Mack had reluctantly taken a few hours off to spend with her stepsister, kind of a “you’re here, let’s make the best of it” gesture. If she’d had half a brain, she would have just left Dee at the salon/spa and gone back to work. But no. She’d felt compelled to try and find some common ground.
Well, she wouldn’t have to worry about doing that again.
“I’ve been banned.”
Jay laughed harder. “How did you manage that? And hey, are those my boxers you’re wearing?”
Mack felt the heat rush to her face. “No,” she lied, tugging guiltily at the black silk. Men’s underwear was comfortable and roomy, while women’s underwear was skimpy and not. Who in their right mind decided that scratchy lace and dental floss would feel good against such a sensitive area, she wanted to know?Especiallyafter a wax.
“You might as well tell me, Mack. Don’t make me call Marcus and get the scoop from him.”
Mack looked everywhere but at Jay. “Imighthave kicked the aesthetician in the face when she pulled a wax strip from my bikini line.”
Trying to cover his mouth, he snickered, “Mack, you didn’t.”
“’Fraid so,” she sighed. “But that hurts, you know?”
“Yes, I know.”
Jay was the best of the best. She could (and often did) confide things to him that she would have otherwise taken to her grave, which was why she kept talking instead of shutting up like she should have.
“It looked really odd, just having one bare patch, so I tried to, you know, even it out myself when I got home. Except I didn’t have any wax, so...”
The true horror of the situation began to dawn on him. “Tell me you did not use your regular razor.”
She blinked and looked up at him. “What else would I use?”
“Oh, baby girl. They make special small ones for that sort of thing.” He waved his hand in the general area of her crotch.
“And how the hell would I know that?” she said, nearly shouting now.
