It had been a week since he'd met her. They'd spent a week meeting with one another, taking walks, talking, and of course snogging the daylights out of each other. What was it about her that completely put him off of his game? His usual charming and persuasive side was lost when he found himself thinking of her or god help him when they had been within the same room. He couldn't focus. If the simple thought of her threatened to reduce him to a pile of stumbling nerves, he reveled in the wonder of what her presence would do the next time they met up. If the two met up again. He hoped like hell that their encounter had not been a one time deal. He hoped that she was not going to forget everything she'd felt during that brief time.
The images of how effortlessly the two fit together clouded his memory. The way she had been able to take control of him, all while he had her under his own control.
Taking hold of her hips and rather aggressively spinning her around so that her back rested to his front. His thoughts rested on the way she'd unknowingly brought him to the edge of madness and the loss of any power he'd managed to loosely hold her in. He could've lost everything to her if she'd known how crazy she'd driven him when her head had slowly moved back and her hands had traveled up into his hair, pulling at it, as if to release the tension building in her body. With her back fit to him, he nearly blacked out from the sound of her moan as his hands trailed from her stomach up the center of her chest, outlining her breasts before his mouth moved to her neck, evoking a strained and muted scream from her.
He needed to see her.
George pulled out a piece of parchment from the desk in front of him as he sat in his shop, aimlessly watching shoppers rummage through the many devices and charmed objects he and Fred sold. He really had no interest in work today. He began to write the only thing he could think to tell her. He hoped it was enough to gain her interest and at the least curiosity. Once finished, he sealed the note, deciding not to charm it with any surprises yet. He didn't want to frighten her anymore than she'd already seemed to be. The note was immediately sent off with the morning post and now sat out of his hands.
She saw the owl fly past the window of the library she occupied in her new home. She thought nothing of the owl until she remembered that owls were the main method of getting the post to members of the wizarding world. She'd never truly thought about or realized that the animals were intelligent enough to do such tasks. She shrugged and went back to reading through the very large book she found herself flipping through.
Minutes later, a knock on her door claimed her interest once more. She looked up to see her father enter the room. She stood as he walked directly over to her.
"This arrived for you." Her father smiled, handing her the rolled parchment. "I'm glad to see that you've made friends here so quickly Mackenzie."
She smiled back. "I suppose I have more in common with some here than I'd expected to."
Mackenzie waited until her father was out of the room and unquestionably a distance away from the library before she carefully opened the letter. Her caution over opening any kind of letter from anyone "magical" had heightened for obvious reasons.
Fortunately, this letter had not jumped from her hands and started to speak on its own. There were just words upon it. Plain and simple written words scrawled across it. She was thankful for that.
The letter was from George. She smiled.
It took her a few minutes to register the capability to read his letter as she recalled their first meeting. True, she had walked into their introduction with an air of arrogance and patronizing discord, masking the fear she'd felt. The fear in her was not for the magical tasks surrounding her, but for the man she'd seen turn to face her. He said nothing, but held her eyes with his, giving off an appearance of nervousness. She had enjoyed and admired him in that instant before she'd managed to make him become a different person. When he spoke, he was quite overconfident. So much so that it displeased her. It had possibly surpassed over confident, going straight for brash and insolent. That was not someone she needed.
Her eyes looked down at the words, but all she could was him. His eyes. Those eyes that looked at her, watched her with no less than reckless abandon, bringing out a hedonistic desire in both of them, that took control. His mouth. He tasted like raspberries and cream. She had deeply enjoyed kissing him The feel of his tongue driving over every inch of her body drove her mad. The man's chest and arms were practically a Godsend. Whatever genetic blessing or activity that had given him those perfectly chiseled muscles would be praised by Mackenzie Chase from this day forward.
She remembered how easy it had been to evoke pleasure in him as her nails had hit the skin of his chest, digging into him as she pulled them down his body, causing his eyes to shut tight, his back to arch, and his head to be tossed back. She couldn't help but need his hands again. , recalling in vivid detail how they'd held her in perfect position of his body. She had drowned in the feeling of his hands running up and down her back before sliding into her hair, grabbing at it, and continually pulling her into him. There were certainly other aspects of his body that she wanted, but she dared not think about them yet as she really needed to focus.
She shook her head, removing the thoughts temporarily from her head. Her eyes again moved own to the parchment in her hand.
Kenny,
I need to see you. Meet me at three at my parent's home.
George
Mackenzie smiled again, sticking the paper into her pocket. Of course she would meet him. She needed to meet him. She wouldn't however let him know how deep her craving to be near him ran. Oh no. That wouldn't do. She would further push the both of them to and past their limits. She would make him need her just as much. Yes. He'd be at her feet, pleading her company. She would do it because she could. And she would most definitely give in when the time came. She looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearing two. She had an hour to change and reach her destination.