Title: Opposites Attract
Chapter 7 - A Room with a View
I listen as Stella reads off the case notes she's received on Clayton Davis and feel myself starting to ease a bit. For some reason as much as I want to tell myself a partnership with this woman is only going to send me to an early grave, I can't help but wonder if it might do me some good also. Oh Mac, snap out of it, it's just the sound of her voice that you're mesmerized by.
We near the hotel and I stop in the underground parking lot and check my gun to which I look up to see Bonasera looking at me with a wry expression. "That only happened once," I frown, knowing she was going to make a comment about the night of the reception when she caught me without my gun. She only offers a smile in return and gets out. Sadly it's what she doesn't say that leaves me most intrigued. I want to know what she's thinking! Most women are an open book; this one is far from it.
The ride up in the elevator is one of silence. What do I say to this woman? And why on earth am I so nervous? I have nothing to prove to her? Do I? No! Well maybe.
"When we find him I'll do the asking of questions," I inform her as we slowly head for the concierge.
"Oh like hell," she shoots back. "I have a few questions of my own," she tells me as we stop a few feet from an interested onlooker.
"I am lead on this and it's my day to win remember? You win tomorrow!" I remind her firmly.
"That was only with regards to driving," she replies in haste.
"Let me guess you two want the honeymoon suite?" The concierge asks, making us both quickly stop and look at him in surprise.
"Pardon?" I ask firmly. "No we don't want a room."
"Sorry sir, I just thought that, well you and your wife,"
"What? She's not my wife."
"I'm not his wife."
"Ok-ay," he tries again in a sheepish voice. "Girlfriend?" He asks weakly. "King room?"
"Do we look like we'd want a room?" I counter in exasperation.
"Yes," he stammers with a flushed face.
"What?" I ask in shock.
"Well the vibes you two are giving off," he starts with a smile.
"Vibes? Do we look like we like each other?" Stella counters.
"Yes," the concierge smiles. "Standard room?"
"NYPD," I say as I pull my badge. "Detective's Taylor and Bonasera. We are here to see Clayton Davis, which room is he in? That's the room we want."
"205," I get an answer.
"Thanks," I huff as I snatch the spare room key from his hand and turn on my heel with Stella beside me.
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"As I was saying before," Taylor starts once again as we get into the elevator, the hotel concierge laughing at us. Great! What was that all about? Like each other? Can't that moron tell we hate each other? Hate? Stella, are you sure? No.
-----
"Bon," I start and then stop. I guess there is no need to calling her by her last name just because I am mad. Besides, I like the name Stella. Has a nice ring to it. "Stella," I try again, this time making her stop and listen. "Let's just play it by ear," I finally resign.
But as we step off the elevator I am faced with a person that I hoped I wouldn't see again; much less with Bonasera at my side. Oh no, not now. Not like this.
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"Detective Taylor," this very attractive woman purrs as we step off the elevator. She is tall, but I notice that it's due to some patent leather stilettos she's wearing which make her eye level with him; long blond hair, and an outfit that women shouldn't wear in daylight hours. I notice his discomfort and arch an amused brow. A hooker? He knows a hooker? How on earth, do I even want to know? Not really. Okay yes I do!
"Ms. Kelly," he offers weakly as she comes and stands inches from him, putting her hand on his chest; invading his personal space. "This isn't the time or place," he tries in a firm tone. My mind can't help but wonder if he's the type of man that would pay for a little action on the side. I hope not, as that would shatter every noble illusion my mind has created about this man. Still, I can't help but wonder the connection?
"Oh, so then another time and maybe my place?" She traps him.
"Ah no," he responds nervously. "Sorry that's not going to happen."
"Mac?" I ask weakly; trying to hide my amusement.
"Is this a social call? Are you already taken or can you spare a few for me?" I hear her ask as she looks me up and down. I have no claim, I frown. He's all yours. But as I watch her body press into his and how his firm chest starts to reveal itself against the fabric of his dress shirt I feel something inside that I haven't for a man in a long time. Am I jealous? Of a hooker? Not possible. Maybe a little? Stella! Give your head a shake! You have Doug. Right. Doug. Who?
"Well we might take more than a few," I smile, noticing Taylor's shocked expression as he looks at me in exasperation.
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"Why are you here?" I ask Moira, finally pulling myself free. Annoyed that Bonasera didn't help me. Well she did, sort of. That wasn't help! She played you again. As I was saying an early grave!
"Some senator in for a weekend romp," she smiles, her finger now playing with the side of my face. "You smell good as always," she mentions and my core temperature is starting to rise. Once again I have to get the 'guy' part of my brain under my control. You'd have to be dead inside not to be turned on by Moira Kelly. But with Stella here, it just complicates things. Why? Don't know, just does. Think she's jealous? Mac, get real. She doesnt like you.
"Okay nice to see you Moira," I frown as I step back and try to move around her.
"See you later Mac," she purrs with a wink as she walks past us and slowly saunters toward the elevator.
With a heavy sigh I turn my back and lead Stella to our college student's room. I dont look at her but can feel her eyes glaring at me; demanding an answer. "Professional acquaintance," I tell her as if I owe her some sort of reasonable explanation. I dont in truth but for some reason I dont want her to think I'm the sort of man that pays for that kind of company.
"Right," she simply answers.
Great, so now she doesn't believe me, I huff inside as we reach the door. I turn and stare into the green pools before me; the green pools searching my blue ones for a valid reason for what just happened. "That woman helped me bring down Jack Harvey. It was nothing more."
"Mac, you don't owe me your, personal life? Was she your date to the reception?"
"Okay, now I'm sorry I told you," I sigh in exasperation as I knock on the door.
"Have you ever?" She tries.
"What? Paid for? No," I rush in my defense. "How could you think that?"
"I don't know you," she tells me in truth.
"I," I start in exasperation. "Look I don't care what you think of me as a CSI but please dont ever think I'm the kind of man that would solicit that kind of woman!"
"Thanks for the tip," she smiles at me.
I turn back to the door and pound on it in anger. "Mr. Davis? NYPD," I state firmly. Mostly angry at myself for feeling I need to defend my name to the infuriating woman beside me. Does she believe me? Do I care? Yes for some damn reason I do! And it's not just my reputation either that I'm worried about.
"Mr. Davis, NYPD, we're coming in," I call out as I draw my weapon, Bonasera following suit. I push the door open and listen. Silence. "Nobody home," I mention as we both step inside to find it clean and empty.
"So much for our debate on questioning this guy. Guess you lost that one," she offers as she heads for the bathroom to check it out. Why does she like to goad me? I sigh inside. She's a woman Mac, that's what they do!
I look at the clean room around us and I know that something isnt quite right. "Was he ever here?" I ask, but not really expecting her to answer.
"Unless he's just obsessed with cleaning," Stella mentions it as she enters the bathroom.
"My money is on another location. Campus even," I offer as I pull out my phone. "Paula, any chance that Clayton Davis stayed at another hotel? Or even a dorm room there?"
"We checked all his credit cards and nothing else except that one. Unless he paid cash, sorry Mac. I have talked to a few other students around here and while a few know him, no one saw him anywhere near the campus in the past two days. He's not from around here but comes on a regular basis to visit the guys so my sources are credible."
"Okay well he's not in his room but we'll keep looking. Thanks," I say hanging up. I continue to look around the very neat room and then I start to make a mental list of all the things a standard hotel room should have.
"Stella," I call out.
"What did you find?"
"Everything is in place except one missing item that every hotel room comes standard with?"
"A set of pink fuzzy handcuffs?" She retorts, obviously unable to resist.
"I," I start and then stop, being thrown off guard once again. Damn, why does she enjoy that? "No," I reply with a slight frown. "Did your boyfriend enjoy them?" I ask sourly, not really knowing what else to throw at her? And why did that sound jealous? I am not jealous over her; maybe a little? Mac! No I'm not.
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I really want to say yes, but for some reason I dont want to bring another man into this right now. Why? I owe Taylor nothing, especially details about my love life. What love life? "Well he would have, except he was too busy trying to hide the key." Did I just say that? Stella!
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"I, what?" I ask her in shock. Did she just imply that I, Mac! She meant that goon she was making out with on the front steps. But I have the key and she knows that? Why does she do this to me? I just roll my eyes and huff. "Back to the case?"
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"Okay so what's really missing?" I ask quickly, trying to throw the poor man a break.
"Laundry bag," I inform her as I pick up the phone. "Detective Taylor," he tells the front desk. "No I don't want to rent the room. Did room 205 have any laundry pick up? They did? Where is the drop off chute? Thanks."
I follow after Taylor and can't help but smile. He's trying so hard not to let anything emotional slip and I am now very curious as to why he's so secretive about his feelings. Maybe he just doesn't like me? That could very well be. But the vibes he's giving off tell me another story. Damn this man! He's too hard to read. And why does that fascinate me once more?
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We reach the spot where the garbage chute is and I pull the large trap door open and peer inside. "I see something," I tell her as I prepare to climb down and get it. "Looks like a university crest."
"Mac, you can't do that," she tells me quickly. "It's not built for a human, much less a man over one hundred pounds as I suspect you are. Let me go. I'm lighter."
"I'm getting that," I tell her firmly. "It's too dangerous for you."
"Oh brother I would if you weren't here. And you get after me for being stubborn," she snaps at me.
"You are," he retorts as he gingerly steps into the opening.
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It's wide enough for him to fit down into as it has to be able to encompass large bundles of bedding. But still the same as I notice his hand about to slip I quickly grab it and hold on. "Thanks," he tells me in a softer tone.
"Mac I," I start only to have someone grab me from behind. "Hey! Mac!" I shout as I am pushed headfirst into him and both of us start to fall into the laundry chute, tumbling in a jumble of arms and legs into the darkness below.
Taylor lands first, sending the waiting laundry bin flying and then I slam into his body, knocking the wind out of him. I lay there dazed, my head spinning and my chest winded. Finally I feel my world staring to come back to me and I move my head to see if Taylor is okay. I place my hand on his chest and notice, yes of course he's breathing, but that his chest is firm and feels so inviting to the touch. I wonder what the rest of him looks like? Just as firm? Stella! Back to reality! And he does smell good; not overpowering but just, well, good. Oh that's lame! Not allowing myself any more lingering time, I quickly pull my hand back and roll off him, landing on his side. I notice a fleck of what looks like skin and I quickly bag it and put it into my pocket for examination later.
I quickly call hotel security and tell them what happened. But I suspect that much like this morning, our attacker is already long gone. Unless it was a stupid prank. I look at what Taylor was trying to get and it was the crest for the hotel. Silly man!
"Stella?" He asks faintly.
"I survived, you?"
"Barely," he coughs as he looks at me a frown. "Are you hurt?"
"A little sore but that's it," I tell him. "Are you hurt?"
"No," he lies to me. This is his second tumble of the day and I'm sure he's getting pissed. I would be.
"You seem to attract trouble. Cant wait to see what the end of this day brings," I tell him as I slowly sit up and finally feel myself starting to come back. I offer my hand and he takes it and pulls himself to a sitting position. He looks at me in concern.
"Me?" He counters. "They pushed you."
I offer only a frown as my head is still sore.
"You sure you're okay?" He asks me again.
"Are you?" I counter.
"You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met," he growls as he pushes himself up.
"And you like that about me dont you?" I smile. Okay, stop flirting with the poor man, I tell myself. Is that flirting? Yes! Okay Stella, stop it. But he just asks for it and I can't resist. I allow him to help me stand. "And yes I'm fine."
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Do I like her? Despite the fact she infuriates me? Yes! Mac, get a grip already, she's going to kill you. I am about to say something more to her when my phone rings. "Taylor"
Nothing.
"Who is this?" I ask angrily.
Nothing.
I look at Bonasera as my phone goes dead. I quickly look for a number 'restricted' is all that displays.
"What was that all about?" She asks me in concern.
"No idea, probably wrong number, but this case has just started and already we are tar,"
"Wait you think it's the case? Mac, maybe this guy is after you? You do tend to piss off a lot of people," she tells me.
"Me? The guy pushed you down here," I remind her. She just rolls her eyes and I grit my teeth. But then I quickly calm down. In truth I have no idea what that was about and perhaps it was just a punk out for a quick prank.
"Maybe it was your girlfriend who pushed me. You know get me out of the picture," she chides as we start to examine the laundry room.
"She's," I start and then stop. "If I just agree to everything you say, will that suffice?" I finally ask her. She looks at me and purses her lips and crosses her arms.
"No," she smiles.
Women! I dont understand why they like to drive us crazy. But as I see her smile and know she's just trying to get under my skin in a good way I can't help but feel my anger slowly dissipate. I just heave a sigh and then go in search of the laundry staff; leaving her there to examine the area for any bag with 205 on it.
I finally find the laundry supervisor and stop. "Excuse me, ah, Ms. Carlos," I say reading her name tag. "I need to know where the laundry bag for room 205 is," I tell her flashing my badge.
"It's already been logged and waiting for service, but I can hold off the staff if you want to look for it. Stacked bins in the other room. Or the floor bins, sorry," she frowns.
"Thanks," I reply with a frown. I turn and head back to Stella who is still looking around for our missing bag.
"What did she say?" She asks not looking up.
"It's here, but we have to find it," I frown. I am thankful I left my coat and quickly take off my suit jacket as I am already warm; and oddly it's not from the fall. She looks at me in suspect and my nervousness starts to grow once again. "What? I'm warm?" I ask in my defense.
"She's got quite the hold on you," Stella teases.
"Trust me if Mr. Universe was here, I'm sure you wouldnt get much work done either."
"Ah so she is your girlfriend," she states in small triumph.
I look at her in shock but offer no reply. Mac, walk away now. Thankfully I listen. I quickly turn away and slowly start for the other side of the room. "I'll check over here."
"You don't like to talk about personal things do you?" She starts.
"With you? No," I quickly offer.
"With anyone?" She presses.
"With anyone," I agree.
"Why not?"
"Why should I?" I throw back at her. I hear her offer a small sigh and frown. "See I can do that too."
She gives me nothing more to respond to and so I try to once again put myself back into work mode. But once again I find myself being distracted by watching what she's doing. I knew this partnership would be a bad idea.
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Why is he so closed up, I wonder. I mean it's true that most guys dont like to talk about emotional stuff and while I do not believe that he's the kind of man that pays for sex, I can't help but tease him because he's so defensive about it. That's called flirting Stella, I remind myself. It's harmless. Is it? Yes!
I look at a few bins stacked in front of me and decide it's time for me to into this. "I'll check out the stacked bins," I tell him.
"Just dont fall," he warns me with a softer tone.
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I watch her climb up the first bin and feel myself edging a bit closer. As much as she frustrates me I dont want to see her get hurt just to track down a piece of evidence. She reaches her hand up and I get a small glimpse of olive skin under her sweater and smile. But when she turns and looks at me, notices where my eyes are, I quickly look away, my face once again flushed.
Damn! She caught me looking. So I'm a guy, how can I not look? Oh I'm sad. But I turn back and see her foot starting to slip and I once again slowly edge my way over to make sure she's okay.
"I think I see som," she starts.
"Stella, wat," I call as she starts to fall.
I watch in slow motion as her foot starts to slip and I rush in her direction to help. Her arm snags the edge of the sharp overhang and I hear her offer a small yelp of pain before she looses her footing and once again falls on top of me.
"Thanks," she offers weakly as I lay on the floor with her on top. Her hand once again lingers on my chest and if she thought the last time was lost on my muddled brain she's wrong. Her hand is warm and the nearness of her is enough to make my body warm for the right reasons. And while Moira's attention was purely sexual, Stella's offers more because she is trying to act like she's not interested. Maybe she's not?
She finally moves off me and rests herself beside me on the floor.
"This is getting to be a dangerous place," I offer with a frown as I slowly push myself up to a sitting position. "I'll check up there."
"And what happens when you fall on me?" She asks softly.
"I'll send flowers to your funeral."
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I can't help but smile at his comment but as I look into his blue eyes I feel myself getting warmer. It's just the close call that's playing with your brain Stella, nothing more. I go to push myself up but he places a warm hand on my shoulder.
"And you get after me for being stubborn when I am hurt," he tells me in a kind tone. "Just wait."
"What are you talking about?" I ask in wonder.
"Let me see your arm," he directs in a firm but warm tone.
I offer my arm and he gently slides my sleeve up to reveal a nasty cut above my wrist. "You didn't feel that?" He asks.
"It's just a scratch," I reply with a slight frown. "It's nothing."
"I saw a first aid kit, just hold on," he starts.
"Mac, it's no big deal," I try in protest.
"For once in your stubborn life just please listen to me?" He lightly begs in frustration. "Please?"
"Okay," I smile. To be honest I am a little taken aback but flattered by his attention. And although I'm sure he's also hurting a little I watch as he pushes himself upright and hurries to the first aid kit that I failed to see. He hurries back and then takes my arm once again.
I offer a slight wince as he applies the cool disinfectant.
"Sorry," he mumbles under his breath; his eyes looking up momentarily and locking with mine.
"It's okay," I reply with a soft smile as he gently applies a Band-Aid and then carefully pulls my sweater back down.
"And she's not my girlfriend," he states firmly, still holding my arm and me captive in his grasp. "End of story. Not my type and not my taste. Please believe that. I would never do that."
"Won't mention it again," I tell him with a smile. "Thanks."
"No worries," he tells me as he quickly gets back up and then hurries to put the kit away. I watch him in fascination. He tries to come across as gruff and harsh but in certain moments he's the complete opposite. So why do I find that attractive?
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Of course I was concerned. I hate to see anyone hurt for no reason; her especially. But I find myself being slightly distracted now with her hovering around. I know she's working but I'm not used to having anyone else to worry about. When will this case be over?
"So where were you looking?" I ask as I walk back to her.
"Those three bins stacked on each other," she mentions. "I think the two hundreds were in the top one."
"Always the top," I huff as I start to climb up.
"Just be careful," she tells me in concern.
I hold onto the ledge and then reach inside the top bin and pull out a few bags and gently hand them to her.
"Not here, but it looks like you have the right bin," she tells me.
"Okay, hold on a second," I tell her as I reach back inside. I hand her a few more bags and am thankfully rewarded with a positive answer. I carefully get back down and stand beside her as she opens it up.
"Empty?" I utter in shock. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Why the smoke and mirrors with this guy?" Stella asks of me.
"Unless he has reason to be dodgy."
"Like he killed his friends?" She offers as I head back to get my suit jacket.
"The only motive I can think of is that must have had something bad on him and he wanted to get even. I'm going back to the room. No one is that good. We must have missed something."
She looks at me with a small smile and I can only offer one in return as I turn and leave.
"Are you sure you dont want to check our friendly concierge before you turn the room upside down?" She asks me as I prepare to open the door.
"No," I reply firmly. "He'll just ask if we need a room. And no offense but I'm not getting a room with you."
"And you think I'd want one with you?" She counters with a small smile. "Please. I'm a woman. If I said let's go you'd be there in a heartbeat."
"Nice try. For starters you're not my type," I lie. Oh man where the hell am I going with this? Mac, I warn myself. Quit now. Why dont I ever just listen to my stupid inside voice?
"Not your type?" She lightly laughs. "I didn't know you had a type?"
"I do, the opposite of you," I tell her flatly. Opposite? She is your type! I know! Shut up!
"What's that tall, dark and stupid?" She counters with a grin.
"I," I start and am stunned. Once again I have no reply. She is my type. Do I tell her that? No!
"Come on Mr. Your Not my Type," she tells me, snatching the key from my hand and pushing the door open. "Let's get our job done before you really get yourself into trouble."
I offer only a huff as I follow her into the room. You did it to yourself, my inside voice reminds me sharply. Why are you wanting to blame her? Just am!
I see her taking off her jacket and figured I'd do the same. I shed my suit jacket that contains my handcuffs, gun, badge and ID. I notice her eyeing them and glare at her. "What? You did. I too work better without distraction and this room distracts me. And whatever is going on inside that brain of yours can stop right about now."
"What on earth are you talking about? So now I can't look around the room or at you without you thinking I have an ulterior motive?" She asks quickly.
"That would be correct," I tell her firmly. "I know you're up to something, you always are."
"Boy you're paranoid," she huffs as she walks over to the bed. "I get the bed."
"I get the bed," I stammer.
"Let's both take the bed," she tells me.
"Fine," I huff as I quickly pull on a pair of gloves. We carefully start to examine the bed cover but as it's a standard hotel bed spread nothing out of the ordinary on it. A few more minutes of inspecting it with the blue light confirms that.
"Looks like this bed was never slept in," Stella tells me as I kneel down to examine one corner.
My eyes rest upon what looks like scrape marks and I have an idea. I hurry back to the desk and grab my handcuffs and hold them up to the leg of the bed. "Well they might not have slept in it, but I am guessing someone had some kind of fun here," I note with a slight frown.
"Your kind of fun?" She asks me.
"I'm not going to answer that," I tell her without looking up.
"That's a yes. Please you're a guy," she replies and I just shake my head. "I'll have to remember that."
I look up at her with a daring glance. "If you think that you are going to ever get the upper hand on me again; you're wrong," I tell her firmly.
"Your confidence is your weakness," she counters.
"In any case, you can put that scheming little brain of yours to rest. It won't happen," I huff.
"Sounds like a dare," she mentions playfully. "Is that a dare?"
"I have work to do," I respond quickly. I'm not going to even go near the idea of her getting the upper hand on me again. No way! I quickly dust for prints but frown when I find none. "No prints," I offer in frustration.
"Maybe they used gloves. Whoever was here is smart and knows how to cover their tracks," she mentions. "Which means Clayton Davis is guilty of something."
"Or he paid someone to clean up," I offer. "Which again makes him guilty of something. Where is this guy?"
But as the silence starts to grow, I once again find myself getting nervous. Do I say something? No she'll just play with your panic. What's she up to?
A few more silent minutes later, I chance a glance up at Stella who is by the other foot of the bed trying to tug something free. "What did you find?"
"Something," she tries with a frustrated huff. "I think it might be,"
"Need some help," I start.
"No," she quickly snaps. "I can get it myself."
I watch her in frustration, not realizing its part of her scheme. Why are men such dopes? With a heavy sigh I push myself up and walk over to her and kneel down beside her. Why does she smell good? And why am I now in trouble? "Here let me se," I start only to have her slightly push me aside and trap my wrist in a handcuff that is attached to the bottom of the bed leg.
"What!" I ask in shock as I look up at her in horror.
"You're right, my side too. I guess someone did have some fun here," she smiles.
"Stella!" I exclaim as she just laughs.
"Your fault," she smiles as she leans in close. "Told you, I'm the wrong person to dare," she smiles as I try once again in vain to free myself. Now I'm cuffed to the bottom of the bed, on my knees and my key is in my coat pocket which is by the opposite wall.
"We are here to work," I tell her firmly.
"And we are working. You said someone was here not to sleep but to have fun. I wanted to know if you were right. See you were right, a pair of standard handcuffs was used."
"But," I start in protest.
"So what's wrong? You don't ever conduct experiments in the field to prove a theory?" She counters.
"I," I try in frustration.
"Oh I see you're once again upset because it was your idea but I beat you to it?"
"You could have just tried them without me!" I snap.
"Yeah but this was better," she simply states. "At least for me."
"I will get even," I hiss at her as the room phone rings. My temperature starts to rise as I look at my wrist and try to pull it free. Stella answers the phone and I glare at her in anger.
"You have? Okay sure, yes, I'll be here. You want me to what? Okay I can, thanks," she says hanging up. "I have to go."
"What?" I ask weakly. "What do you mean you have to go? You can't leave me like this!"
"I won't be too long. Don't go anywhere," she smiles sweetly.
"Give me the damn key!" I tell her in a firm voice as she comes and stands before me. Damn I'm still on my knees and so can only look up at her in wonder. Okay so why the hell am I so turned on by this? Why does this woman do this to me? Can't she see I'm in torment? AH!
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Doesn't he know what a turn on it is for him to act like this? Oh Stella, leave the poor man alone. No way, he's too much fun when he's caught. He tries very hard to act like he's mad, but I've seen those blue eyes filled with actual anger; and it's not now. Right now they are filled with something else.
"Okay so I'll be right back," I tell him with a smile.
"Stella!" He loudly shouts.
"Gosh keep your voice down. Dont make me take other measures to keep you quiet," I warn him. Why is my heart racing? Why does he act like he's turned on? He's a guy? Duh!
"Stella," he tries again; trying in vain to pull himself free. I can't help but smile as his strong arm flexes under his dress shirt; which really does little to hide his body. His body that I would like to see out of those dress clothes. Stella! Okay back to work. Right, work.
"I guess it's a good thing the bed is bolted to the floor. Because when I leave I know you'll have probably tried to kill yourself dragging it over to the wall to get the key," I tell him as I kneel close.
"You've had your fun, now let me go," Mac tells me in a calmer tone.
"Thanks for listening and talking calmer," I whisper, hopefully sending shivers down his spine.
"Stella," he tries again.
"You know the longer you keep stalling me the longer you'll stay like that," I wink at him. He just rolls his eyes at me and tries again to yank his wrist free; putting himself once again within inches of me. I was about to kiss him on the cheek when I quickly pull back. I look into the blue pools before me and frown. Oh the effect this man has on me. I better leave before I actually do something about his helpless condition. And that would be bad? Yes!
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I stare into the green eyes before me and frown. Part of me is wishing she'd just lean in and kiss me and put me out of my damn misery already! The other part wants to leave this place and never come back. Oh I'm sad. The nearness of her is making my brain once again fail to send words to my mouth and I can only offer a small okay when she finally pushes herself up and heads for the door; leaving me handcuffed to the bed on my knees. She turns around and offers one more smile and I'm alone in the hotel room. I spy my jacket and then look down at the bed before I try to pull it free.
"Damn it is bolted to the floor! There goes my escape plan." I offer another curse but for unlike the night of the party I am not too worried as I know she has to return and I'm already thinking about my revenge scheme. And why the hell am I smiling! Mac, get a grip. Once again, foreplay and you were denied. A few more frustrated minutes later, however, I finally hear the door starting to open and think its Stella back to set me free.
"Okay Stella, fun's over," I start as a large man enters the room. Where the hell is Stella? "Who are you?" I ask weakly. Here I am on my knees, trapped, no gun and no way to defend myself. Oh this is not good.
A/N: any ideas as to who it is? Want to know's happened upon Mac? Lots more to come for both of them! I Hope you still like the story and please leave me a note and thanks for reading!