Disclaimer: They are still not ours, but that has never stopped us before, so why should it stop us now?
A/N: Okay, with the way Sarah left that last chapter, I have a lot of options, don't I? I mean, Mac's in jeans and a bra… Sarah, you vixen, you… I can't resist this, and you know it, don't you? You guys see how she manipulates me? (honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way…)
A/N2: Sarah, I forgive you for eating my pop tarts… but you should still feel a little guilty for three or four more days… and you should make restitution… I want you laptop, your collection of CD's, your amazing 'write as Mac' talent, and some gummy bears… then all will be forgiven and forgotten… (I publicize my feuds with Sarah because I can… she loves me too much to kill me for telling you guys that she is a pop tart snatching stupid head…) Enjoy, and make me smile… go ahead… you know what I want you to do…
Coveted Cotton
"Something's Up…"
Chapter 4
Damn…
There is no way in hell she's getting this shirt…
A uniform-clad Mac is impressive…
Mac barefooted in jeans and a bra?
Holy shit…
I watch her as she takes a step closer to me.
"You sure you haven't seen my shirt?" She asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
I nod.
"So you won't mind showing me both of your hands… at the same time?" She asks, a small smile forming on her lips.
Her shirt is in my right hand.
I've had it since I walked in and spotted it on the floor near her bed.
Her back was too me, I grabbed it, tucked it behind my back with my left hand, sat down on her bed, and watched her search for it…
I tuck the shirt into the waistband of my pants and hold both of my hands up.
She has this cute, confused expression on her face.
"You thought I had your shirt, didn't you?" I ask, stepping towards her.
She narrows her eyes at me and I know she knows…
She has figured it out.
Sometimes, I just don't give her enough credit.
"I don't think you've got it… I know you do." She says, confidently.
I smile.
"If you think I've got it… why don't you come and get it?" I ask, challenging her.
Mac is always up for a challenge.
That's one of the things that I love about her…
Hmm… she's standing in front of me in her bra… I guess I can now add two more things to the list of things that I love about her…
She closes the gap between us, pressing her body up against mine, as she says, "I want that shirt…"
Her hands roam up my chest and I look down at her and smile.
"If you want it… find it. I give you permission to conduct an extensive, thorough search." I tell her, sticking my hands up in the air a little higher.
This is not what I had in mind when I got here, but I have a feeling that she's about to teach me that taking detours is a good thing…
She pats me down, intentionally avoiding my waistband.
She knows good and damn well where that shirt is… but if she wants to touch me, if she wants to run her hands down my chest, I'm not going to complain or offer up any objections...
She looks up at me and smiles, then, she does something that blows my mind…
She squats down and runs both of her hands down my left leg…
I bite my bottom lip as I feel a familiar tightening in my groin.
She then slowly runs her hands down my right leg.
She stands up and sighs.
"If I was a shirt, where would I hide?" She asks, looking into my eyes.
I smile as I feel her press herself up against me again.
Her hands make their way to my chest, and then… to my surprise… they find their way to my ass.
I would say something… but I'm scared that what she's doing to me has caused me to develop a sudden speech impediment. I am positive that I can't form a sentence right now, and stuttering through a fragment wouldn't do much good… so I remain silent as she cups my ass once, twice…
Her hands gradually make their way from my ass to my pockets…
It's times like these that I wish I could control myself… but I can't… and so, I am almost one hundred percent certain that she is well aware of how much I am enjoying this…
She takes her hands out of my pockets, and, glancing down at my crotch, she smiles up at me.
"That doesn't look like a t-shirt…" She tells me, running her hands up my chest.
I smile back at her and ask, "Should I apologize?"
"I'd say that you've got nothing to be sorry about…" She says, looking down, then looking back up at me.
I laugh, her shirt the last thing on my mind, and she lunges for it…
My reaction time is too slow, and I watch as she holds the shirt up in the air victoriously.
She climbs onto her bed and, jumping up and down, she laughs as she tells me, "Something was up… but your guard was down."
I laugh and walk over to the bed, enjoying watching her jump…
I watch as her feet leave the bed, land on the bed, leave the bed, land on the bed…
She is laughing until she realizes that I have grabbed her feet and pulled them out from under her.
Landing on her back, she gasps, and I climb on top of her, pinning her to her mattress.
She has stopped laughing, and her smile slowly fades as I trace a line from beneath her right breast to her belly button with my finger.
"God, you are beautiful…" I whisper, leaning in and pressing my lips to hers.
When I pull away, she is smiling and I spot an opportunity to recover the coveted black shirt…
I snatch it away from her and jump to my feet.
"Ah-ha! Victory is mine!" I yell, running out of her bedroom.
"You little… give me my shirt!" I hear her yell as I make my way into her living room.
I toss the shirt onto her couch and sit down on top of it.
She comes in, smiling, shaking her fist at me.
I'm going to get it… but I have a feeling that I'm going to enjoy getting it…