I know I haven't updated Blue Skies and Rain. For those few who have read the first two (crappy) chapters, I'm working on updating that. But for now, I've written up this weird mini story where Macy is pervertish (lol) and she wants some Nick-lovin' for herself. I, once again, won't be quick with updating, though I DO have the next chapter for this one. Thank you, and happy reading. Be nice. Please.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. (Or I'd be happily talking to Nick right about now. :D Or shopping with Nicole and Chelsea.)
They never had time alone. He was either with the guys, working alone (and she knew he didn't like to be interrupted), or they were all hanging out together. She was frustrated and lonely and just wanted some one-on-one time with him. To be in his arms for more than a 5 second hug.
She knew he wasn't big with PDA. That's why all she received were kisses on the cheek or on the edge of her lips. She was embarrassed to admit it, but she wanted more.
All they did when they were finally granted a few moments with each other was talk. She honestly didn't know what to do when she had him to herself. She thought it'd be too forward to initiate a make-out session but he was too considerate to do anything he'd deemed inappropriate. She didn't want to ask or tell him, but how were they going to move forward in their relationship when all they did was talk?
Maybe it was her inner guy talking, because after all, she'd been an athlete in mostly all-guy teams, but she was fed up with talking. Of listening to him go on about Joe and Stella and they're bizarre non-relationship (though we ALL knew it was sexual tension), or Kevin. She was sick of talking about how her day had gone, what she did with Stella or what she ate. All of that was irrelevant. All that mattered was him. And his delicious lips and his gorgeous body, and his nimble fingers…
She wanted to be intimate. Feel sexy and wanted. Know that she was sexy and wanted. But how could she get the sort of response she wanted without freaking him out by her unexpected behavior?
She had a plan. She wasn't the one who thought out every little thing down to the small details like he did, but she did have a plan.
The first step was done. She was in her blue-green camouflage-style tankini, lounging by the pool, the setting sun highlighting her dewy sun-kissed skin and her sun-bleached hair, with her romantic playlist softly playing in the background, the cries of seagulls overpowering the music every now and then.
She knew they couldn't drink. They were still underage but her fingers had faintly itched to grab Big Rob's case of wine coolers (which was kind of funny because he was a huge guy and he liked to drink strawberry flavored alcohol beverages) though she hadn't. So she, instead, sipped lazily on fruit punch. She felt lame (punch?) but that's all she could come up with that resembled wine. Wine was romantic and insinuated something sexual, something she was desperately hoping she could pull, even as she absentmindedly thought of Nick's damned purity ring. (It wasn't really damned, it was her irritation talking.)
She craned her neck to hear any incoming footsteps and sighed when the air was as silent as before. She set down her glass by the pitcher and untied her locks, letting them frame her face messily. She stretched, the years of grueling practice ingrained in her muscles, and she groaned appreciatively when she heard some joints pop.
She readied herself at the edge of the pool and dived in; the cool chlorine filled pool water embraced her heated skin like a cold sip from a water bottle at the end of a marathon. When she came up for air, she slicked her hair back and gasped when she heard a, "Whoa," by the doorway. The three members of JONAS and Stella stood, gaping at her.