Good For You.

Author: Radiorox

Summary: A form fitting green dress and his beautiful partner is a combination that Harm can't resist - Smut. ;-)

Note: Totally comes from Selena Gomez's "Good For You." It was playing about a month ago and I just had the idea of Mac dressing classy sexy for Harm. This little ditty came to mind. Should be 3 or 4 chapters.

Have I recently hit my head?

It's the first thing that comes to mind when I walk into my loft and find her wearing that gown. It's dark green and satin and it wraps around her waist like a second skin. The front is a V cut snd the slit is the kind that doesn't stop until way above her mid thigh that forced her to sit a certain way when we sat through one of those functions we both secretly hate.

The damned dress is sexy as hell with spaghetti straps that cling to her shoulders by some sort of magical artistry. It's bare back too, stopping two inches above the swell of her ass and I wonder how the hell she managed to dance without showing a damned thing.

So I wonder once again, have I recently hit my head?

Why else wound the woman I've fantasized about for the better of six years be sitting on one of my stools, her legs crossed exposing that delicious thigh through the slit of that dress? Her hair is tastefully done, longer locks held back with diamond studded clips that match every single piece of jewelry she's wearing. The necklace plunges down the front of the dress that I'd all but forgotten was risque as well.

Long legs teetered on heels that night, heels that were silver and sparkly and made me wonder what she'd look like wearing just them with that dress a mess on the floor.

I notice her shallow breaths, the ones that make her chest heave and despite my want to remain a gentleman, the desire I feel for this woman forces the blood to rush south. Whatever she's doing here, whatever she wants I know I'd surrender. After dancing with her tonight and pressing my palm against her bare skin, I knew I was done for.

But, I wasn't her date. I had no claim to her tonight. Mac went to the party with that detective guy that was always hounding her and I went stag. Of course there were plenty of women to dance with, four that placed their number in my pant pocket. And another that assured me I'd have a bed waiting in a room upstairs that a younger me would have delighted in.

But Mac wasn't just another woman and surviving a night of men upon men begging her for a dance had made me grumpy and on edge. I left early, feigned having too much to drink although I'd barely finished two glasses of scotch and was sober enough to notice Detective Mario's hand traveling south to pat her six.

I wanted to rush over and punch him but given the last month we'd been rebuilding our friendship, I knew I had no right, no claim or reason to act like a neanderthal. So I left and I drove around Washington, tkaing lap upon lap around the various monuments because I was too wired to come home.

As I trudged up the steps to my loft I briefly considered one of the numbers in my pocket qs a way to stave off another lonely night. I might have called the blonde, whatever her name was but the brunette sitting on the stool before me ceases my thoughts of other women.

"We need to talk." Mac says firmly and I feel like someone has just dropped five gallons of ice cold water over my head.

"Talk? Okay, sure." Great. What did I do now? "You break into my place to talk? What? wWas the good detective not a talker?"

"I didn't break in. You know I have a key." She rolls her eyes, hops off the stool and I instantly miss the bare flesh, the toned leg Mac was previously showing. It's elegant how she walks towards me and then stops to fold her arms across her chest. "You know, Mario is no threat to you…You weren't sure you'd return in time to go and I didn't want to go alone."

"Ah, so you're leading him on then?"

"Harm-" Mac says my name in the tone she uses when she's irritated with me. It's almost like chastising a small child and I'm reminded how much of an asshole I can be when she's involved with someone else. She sighs, shakes her head and those almost bare shoulders slump.

"Hey, if you like the guy, go for it. Who you date is none of my business."

But it is because, deep inside, I know I have the power to change things and make her mine. I'm just not sure that's what she wants anymore and frankly, I'm not strong enough to handle another rejection.

Mac drops her head to stare at a spot on the floor, her mouth opens and closes and then a transformation happens that I wasn't expecting. She takes a deep breath, lets it out in a rush and then straightens. There's a determination in her eyes that I'd never seen, a little fire that threatens to take my breath away and reminds me why I love this woman.

"There is no Mario and me when all I think about is you. No one else stands a chance. I want…no, I need us to figure this out once and for all." We stand facing each other and I force my eyes to look into hers and not her breasts which I can tell are still heaving with each breath she takes. The air is charged like I've never felt before, our sexual tension ramping up exponentially.

Why does she have to be so damned beautiful? And why, when she licks her lips, do my eyes trace the movement as if her mouth could save my soul? I'm dumbstruck and it's Mac who takes a step closer, her voice low and sweet when she asks me to touch her. "I won't break you know."

"I know, but I was working on the Vette this morning. My hands are a little rough." I rub them together as if to prove my point but Mac merely scoffs at my lame excuse and takes another step towards me.

"That didn't stop you when we danced tonight." Mac's right, of course, my hands rough as they were did touch her but only for a moment that wasn't long enough. It did give me the chance to smell her perfume, a delightful scent of berries and sandalwood that lingered lightly and yet still has a dizzying effect. I wondered what it would smell like on my sheets and was glad when the slow number we danced was done because it saved me the embarrassment of Mac feeling how much I wanted her tonight.

I swallow hard and see her head tilt slightly as she searches for an answer I'm not sure how to give. She takes yet another step forward and raises her hands to smooth over the lapels of my jacket. Even through the layers of fabric I feel the heat of her palms, the gentle touch that makes my eyes close for a moment. "Do I scare you?"

"No." I say and shake my head slowly. "Not you…it's this…us…it's terrifying."

"Why?"

Because I've never wanted a woman this way. I've never let any woman occupy my thoughts as much as Mac had. I could lose myself for hours just thinking about her and made the cardinal sin of calling another woman by her name once. It's intense and yeah, it scares me. "Because we're always a step away from self combusting and neither of us has really made a move."

"It's been like this for years. Did you just notice?"

I open my eyes and look at her. Really look at her. Mac's lips are slightly parted and her eyes shine the most amazing amber color. She's radiant and beautiful and neither of those words do justice to describe her appearance. "You look incredible tonight."

"I wanted to look good for you."

"For me? I wasn't your date." I don't realize we're swaying to the music until my hands drop to her waist. We circle the floor slowly, barely moving and the hands that were on my chest now slide up to touch the hairs on the back of my neck.

"Yeah, Harm, for you. I'm tired of waiting." She's nervous, the tint on her cheeks tell me so. Why is that so adorable and sexy all at once?

"What about the good detective?"

She smirks and the tint on her cheeks deepens. Mac bites her lower lip and then takes a breath. "I'm not in love with Mario. I'm in love…with you."