Chapter 12
She giggles. A sound that is both sweet and sexy and claimed she never does. Marine's don't giggle. Well, this one does especially when my hands run under her t-shirt, over the bare skin on the sides of her hips. It's just the slightest of touches, a feathering of my finger over each swell that does it. And it's so damned cute and adorable and it busts something inside my chest every time.
Mac's stretched out on top of me as we lay on her sofa with my ankle bandaged and propped up on several pillows. It took a few minutes but we managed to find a position where we can lay down together and enjoy the simplicity of a rainy Saturday morning in. She's still healing over the emotional toll dealing with Coster left behind especially a want to take to the bottle again. Mac confessed that little secret to me and I couldn't help but feel distraught over it. Was she wanting to lose herself to alcohol because of the stress or because of Dalton Lowne? Hell, I never liked the guy but I certainly never wished for his death... Well, that's not true either but, I didn't mean it.
She peppers soft, open mouth kisses along my neck, chest, jawline and then plants a slow kiss on my lips that as me flipping us over so that she's beneath me. "Harm, you're ankle."
"It's fine." It's not. It's pretty well sprained, will take weeks to heal but damned if I am gonna put those kisses of hers to waste. See, Mac is addictive, a sweet, sweet sin I can't stay away from. It wasn't like this with Diane where I pined and pined until I got my way. I didn't want her this way, with a reactive force that makes me feel like I could self combust. And it's just not physical, it's not. I swear, it's not. Mac's the complete package. But then why can't I tell her that I love her? That I fell, or am still falling because there is no end to this drop. She's forced my guards down and I happily let her because we're good together. She's good for me although I am probably not good enough for her. And I hate that about us, I hate that I feel inadequate at times and I don't know how to fix it.
I must have stopped kissing her because I hear her husky voice whispering in my ear. "What's wrong?"
"Huh?"
"You disappeared on me for a moment there, flyboy. Come back to me." And I am powerless to stop her when her hands cup my face and pull me down for another kiss that leaves us both breathless. She just feels so damned good - above me, below me, next to me - it doesn't matter. I'm addicted to her and I don't want a cure for it, I just want more and more and more.
The back of my hand skims over her ribcage and she shivers from my touch. Yet another thing that I love about her, the way she responds to me that's uncontrollable. Our mouths fuse again, her tongue slipping past the seam of my lips to touch the tip of mine. It's electric, has been since day one and those soft mews from the back of her throat drive me insane.
We shift again, her legs open to accomodate my body between them and I feel my ankle protest when I come to my knees to remove my shirt. Mac lifts her arms up and her t-shirt rides up enough to see that sexy midriff that flares out to hips I enjoy holding when we make love. I pull her shirt off almost...because I leave enough of it on that it acts as a blind fold.
Her arms are still stretched out above her head and it makes her breasts perk up. Bare breasts because she hasn't worn a bra in the last two days. Fuck, she has to be part Siren and I would gladly run aground any ship to listen to her song.
With one hand I hold the shirt in place, just above her nose, covering her eyes. The other traces a lazy pattern beneath each breast. She's panting now, squirming against me and I feel her core press against my erection. If only Mac knew that another move like that could make me come. If only she knew how much I feel for her both emotionally and physically that makes me want to burst.
No, it definately was not like this with Diane or anyone else that has come and gone. It never will be. Even if I stopped falling, it would never be the same.
I pull the shirt fully off of her and Mac's hands dart immediately to the sweats I'm wearing. "Oh God." It appears that this thing is just as uncontrollable for her as it is for me. Her delicate hand reaches for me, wraps around my length and it takes all of my self control to not make a mess of myself right there. "You're incredible."
"Oh you have no idea." There's a promise in her tone of wonderfully salacious things we can do to eachother but when her palm runs over my tip all I can think of is burying myself deep into her.
Mac is raising her bottom up and I grasp the hem of her pajama bottoms and begin to slide them down. I don't get too far, barely to the top of her thigh when a loud knock sounds at her door.
We ignore it for a bit, her mouth kissing me almost desperately, the knocking on the door muting completely when Mac bites my lower lip and lets it slide between her teeth. But that damned knocking turns inssessant enough not to be ignored.
"Ugh. Somebody better be dead." Mac says when she crawls out from under me and reaches for her disgarded shirt. I bury my face in one of the throw pillows and groan. Seriously our timing sucks sometimes of late it's like we can't get any time to ourselves.
"Hurry." I beg of her and Mac is giggling again, saucily shaking her six until she stops at the door. I'm laying on my back now, elevating my ankle because, yes the damned thing hurts when I hear her gasp.
The knocking is violent now, a cause for concern that makes the hair at the back of my head stick up. Whoever it is can't be anyone good which is why I'm confused when the door swings partixally open and an unfamililar man leans against the frame.
He can't see me, his eyes are glued to her but I see a slow, almost lacivious grin split his face. "Hello baby."
"Chris?" Mac seems upset and perhaps a little shock. She's not the type to be rendered speechless and yet, she doesn't say a word. The hand on the doorknob tightens.
Chris? Who the hell is Chris? I wonder and come to a sitting position so that I can see the man better. He's good looking, in that James Cagney kinda way, a bit mysterious but somethibf about him screams trouble.
"How? Why?..You..You can't be here."
She tries to shut the door but he slips his foot between it and the frame and then he says it, words that crush my soul. "Is that a way to talk to your husband?"
Husband?
Hus-band? As in a married man, her married man. I really don't think I've ever felt this gutted before or betrayed. Yes, betrayed was the better term for it. Granted neither of us know everhthing about one another but ahouldn't she have mentioned him? Maybe this a joke? Maybe he's an old friend.
"Mac? What's going on?" I push myself up balancing on one foot while reaching for the crutches.
That Chris character pushes past despite Mac's attempt to stop him. He stands on the opposite side of the coffee table with his hands on his hips eyeing me. "Who the hell are you, pal? What are you doing with my wife?"
Wife? Fuck, I start to realize this little charade is real. My eyes dart to Mac to see her head cast down in either shame or embarassment, likely both.
"He's my partner. My work partner." She says by way of explination and the knife in my heart twists a little more. Partner? Not boyfriend or lover or...or...no, just partner.
"Harmon Rabb." For reasons I can't explain I take her lead and extend my hand out to him only to have it slapped away forcefully. He's trying to assert his dominance, stake his claim although I am far taller and can likely crush him with ease.
Despite my injury, that innate male need to protect what is his has me reaching out and grabbing him by the lapel of his sports jacket. Chris grabs a fistful of my t-shirt but before either of us could land the firsf blow Mac is playing referee.
"You need to leave." She tells him in a tone that leaves zero room for argument. "Now."
"I came for you, Sarah. We need to talk, it's important." I hate it when the men in her life call her 'Sarah.' It's like they know another woman that I don't. Like they've been privvy to so mhch more thab I ever will. To me she is 'Mac' becaus she introduced herself that way. Sarah is someone else that I rarely see and maybe that's not a good thing. "I'm staying at the Regent until Tuesday. Come by, please."
"Go, Chris...Please."
"Okay." Chris begins his retreat walking backwards until he reaches the door. Mac follows and befofe she could close the door he's pulling her to him, his lips pressing avainst hers in a punishing kiss that I am poweless to stop. "Bye baby. I'll see you soon." And then he's gone.
It's been nearly a half hour since he left and Mac sits next to me on the sofa staring into space. I've yet to ask more than one question and she's yet to answer it. Eventually I ask again. "Were you ever gonna tell me that you're married?"
"I was hoping it would never come up." She sighs and the sound is agonizing like if someone has ripped up a peice of her soul. "As stupid as this sounds, I kind of forgot about it...I don't think about him. It's past."
I swallow hard unable to really ask her point blank what I want to know. "How long...I mean when?"
She sighs again and I know she can tell me the exact year, month, day, hour, minute and second but insteqd she simplifies it. "We've been legally married for twelve years. I met Chris when I was sixteen, he helped me keep away from Joe's wrath." From her tone of voice it was clear that wasn't a good thing.
"I was drunk when I married him. Drunk during the 'honeymoon' if you could call riding on the back of motorcycle from Flagstaff to Gallup much of a honeymoon. We stayed at a dingy motel and at the time I didn't think I deserved anything better. I thought the World of him even though I knew he wasn't inherantly good."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She shrugs, pulling away when I try to drape my arm ocee her shoulders. "It never came up, I guess. Chris went to jail a week before that crash that almost killed me. Three to five years for armed robbery and I needed to make a choice: him or me."
"So you joined the Marines and never looked back?"
"Yeah." Mac stands and begins to pace as if being anywhere near me is causing her more distress. "Harm...I...We never divorced." Her eyes are dark when she looks at me and I can see worry lines on her face that have never been aparent before.
I'm sure I didn't hear her right. Maybe the pain meds have begun to make me hallucinate? When she looks away my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach and at the same time the bile rises to my throat. "You're not divorced."
"No. I guess I never got around to it."
"You're a lawyer, Mac."
I wince when the words come out in such a harsh tone that it makes her spin and glare at me. I'm not a saint, not by a long shot and may have even had a tryst or two with a married woman, I sure as hell have pined for one. But, Mac...It's incomprehensible that someone seemingly so put together could... would...
"I'm not perfect like you!" She lashes out and I remember why I never like being on the receiving end of her ire. "I wanted my own life. A good life and so I cut ties and joined the Corps because if I hadn't I would have drunk myself to death or worse. I'm sorry if I forgot a step or two."
"A step or two? You've been married all of this time and never told me? Me out of all people?" She turns away from my accusation and I see her shoulders slump. Mac buries her face in her hands and I can hear the sniffling, the catch of her breath from crying. "Shit. Mac, I'm sorry."
"I think you should go. I'm calling you a cab."
I don't argue with her although I probably should. I should stay and force her to tell me everything. I should stay and tell her that I love her despite this novelty in our relationship but, I don't. I can't because the part of me that wants to let her in just took a massive blow. Carefully, I stand gripping onto a crutch with one hand and with the other I grab my wallet and keys from her coffee table. I shove them as best as possible into the pockets of my sweatpants and stare at her as if waiting for Mac to stop me.
She doesn't. Of course she wouldn't, the woman is as stubborn as I am. "Go, Harm. This is my problem to deal with not yours."
I'm being dismissed and if we weren't the same rank I could imagine her ordering me to leave. I hate it. I hate this side of her and want nothing more but to stop, pull her into my arms and tell her that it will be alright. But, I can't. I won't because my heart took a beating I wasn't prepared for. "Are you going to see him?"
"Yes." She admits. "I need to see what he wants from me."
"You can't."
"You have no say in this...Go, please." Mac holds the door open for me and closes it shut the second I'm out in the hallway.
This has happened to me before. It happened with Diane who was hot and heavy with someone else during one of our many 'breaks.' She was on tour in the Indian Ocean and me off the Med, we hadn't seen each other for months and I thought I'd surprise her when we were both back in town. That's when I stumbled on the creep she had in her bed, the man she preferred over me if just for that night. We didn't argue about it either, I was called 'intrusive' and sent on my way without another word. At that point, I decided I would never trust anyone again.