Sometimes, Mac Taylor decided, things just feel right. Tonight, was one of those things.
It was nearly ten when Drea Cesarone knocked on his door, arriving soaked to the bone in the middle of a late fall rainstorm. He ushered her in, taking her wet trench coat and hanging it on the coat rack.
She told him she'd been thinking about him, that she'd wanted to call him a few times in past few weeks. That she'd been wanting to see him, more than their brief professional interchanges and that finally, that night, after two glasses of Jamison's during an after work happy hour, she'd screwed up her nerve and decided to pay him a visit.
She laughed, nervously, when she asked him if he minded her showing up unannounced. As she looked at him, her dark eyes intense, her dark hair hanging in soft wet curls, he had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms.
Instead, he offered her some dry clothing and something warm to drink. She accepted both offers and followed him into his bedroom, watching while he pulled a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from his dresser. Her eyes seemed to track him like a laser and he found this both exciting and unnerving.
"Mac," she said, her voice rich with desire, as she stepped to him. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about our kiss."
He smiled at her, "You too?"
"I kept thinking that maybe we should have…" she trailed off.
"The timing wasn't right," he tried. She stood so close that he could feel the heat from her body. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, but he held off, waiting for her to initiate things, for her to give the green light.
"And now? Time has passed," she breathed, placing her hands to his chest. "I want to try that kiss again, Mac….and this time, I don't want to pull away."
He placed his hands on her waist, leaning close. "Drea, are you sure…"
She smiled, "Still looking out for me?"
"I'm looking out for both of us," he said, as their lips brushed.
"So am I," she replied, pressing her lips to his.
This time, neither of them pulled away. Instead, they allowed themselves to prolong the kiss, their tongues tangling, their hands cautiously exploring. As they kissed, their hands became more bold, their touch more urgent.
"Mac…" she said, pulling back and locking her eyes on his, "Take me to bed?"
"Drea…" he warned, his mind fighting to keep his body in control.
She shook her head, "Don't…please? You know we both want this…I don't want to talk it out, I don't want to over think it…" She claimed his lips in a hard kiss. "I just want you."
All thoughts of resistance evaporated and he pulled her close, returning her kiss. As they made their way to his bedroom, clothing was shed and dropped without care. When they reached the bed, they fell upon each other with a frenzied need.
For once in a very long time, Mac didn't over think things, hell, he didn't think at all. He simply gave into the feelings that she'd stirred in him weeks ago. He didn't worry about the consequences of their actions; he simply drank in her smell, her taste, the feeling of her skin, the touch of her hands, and the sound of her cries. He allowed himself to become drunk on sensation and to ride the building waves.
"Mac…" she gasped, as her nails dug into his arms, her body tensing. "Oh…."
The loud shrill ringing of his cell phone replaced her voice. He focused on her face, not wanting to stop, but the phone rang again.
XXXXX
At the third ring, Mac sat up in bed, panting, bathed in sweat. He looked around the room, finding himself alone in bed.
"Shit," he spat, staring at the offending piece of electronics. Forcing his breathing to slow, he flipped open the phone angrily, "Taylor," he snapped.
"Mac?" Stella's voice began, "Did I interrupt something?"
"Just sleeping," he gruffly said, "What do you need?"
"Flack pulled in a suspect on the Shoe String Murders; I thought you'd want to come down for questioning."
"Yeah, I'll be there," he said, flipping the phone shut.
Running both hands through his hair, he took a deep breath and forced back the thoughts of his dream encounter with Drea. Tiredly, he pulled himself out of bed and made his way to the shower.
XXXXX
The growling of his stomach reminded Mac that he had skipped his morning stop at the Avenue C Diner. Checking his watch, he realized that it was lunch time and he should probably get something into his stomach besides the four cups of coffee he'd ingested so far.
Staring at the mound of paperwork on his desk, he tried to talk himself into walking away from it, if only for a few minutes, to pick up something for lunch. As he debated running out, the phone on his desk rang.
Lifting the receiver before the second ring, he brought it to his ear and answered, "Taylor."
"Hey Stranger," Drea's rich voice said, instantly bringing back images of his very erotic, very vivid dream.
Forcing back the images, he warmly replied, "Drea. How are you?"
"Good, really good," she replied. "So much has happened since we last spoke, Mac."
"All of it good, I hope," he smiled.
"Yeah, except that I've let a very important friendship slip to the side," she seriously said. "I miss you and I've been thinking about you a lot. I…"
"Drea, you don't need to explain, I understand. I've been thinking about you too," he replied, wondering what she'd think if she knew just how he'd thought of her this morning.
"Really?" she asked, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
"Really," he concluded, then, before he could think himself out of it, he said, "Want to have dinner with me?"
"I'd like that. When were you thinking?"
"Tonight? I'll see if I can get reservations at Landmarc?" he asked, mentioning her favorite restaurant.
"Hm….my favorite restaurant and one of my very favorite guys? How could I resist? Should I meet you there?"
"Sounds good, I'll try for 7:30 reservations. If I don't get them, I'll let you know."
"I'm looking forward to seeing you," she softly said, "We've got a lot of catching up to do."
"We do," he agreed, as the dream images crept back into his mind.
"Mac," Stella began, walking into his office, "I need you to…oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were on the phone."
Drea heard and wryly said, "Ah, your master's voice. I'll let you go. See you at Landmarc at 7:30."
"Looking forward to it," he smiled, "See you then." He hung up the phone and turned to find Stella watching him with a curious smile. "What?"
"You're smiling," she observed, with a laugh. "Were you making a date?"
"Maybe I was," he playfully returned.
"Mac! That's great! You're getting out again, I'm happy for you."
He shrugged, "I'm taking Drea Cesarone to dinner. I'm not sure if it constitutes a date or just two old friends having dinner."
Stella studied him a moment, then with a knowing wink said, "It's a date. Now, let's take care of this paperwork so you can get out of here on time."