Page 45 of Mac Meyers Needs Me

“Mac?” I whisper.

But apparently, he has the frustrating gift of being able to fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. I sigh, turn out my own light, and grab my phone. I have a new shared doc from Cammie.

Fifi,

For your beta eyes. A little inspo for your inner Arwen. ;)

Xo Cammie

I open the doc on my phone and glance over at Mac, but the guy is out to the world. His chest rises and falls in rhythmic waves. He sighs in his sleep and mumbles something, then his breathing evens out again.

I open the doc.

It’s the scene. The one I’ve been waiting for. Arwen sits on the ornately carved wooden stool—a handcrafted gift from Legolas. Aragorn is on his knees in front of Arwen and Legolas is behind her. Everyone is naked. Cut muscles and soft curves on display for each other. Aragorn dutifully rubs lotion into Arwen’s calves while Legolas moisturizes her arms before their hands move to more intimate places, lips on her skin, doting, touching, tasting.

And then Legolas picks Arwen up and sits on the stool with her in his lap, filling her from behind on a deep groan of satisfaction. Aragorn stays on his knees in front of them. Legolas spreads her wide so Aragorn can lick her while Legolas fucks her. And then…then Legolas pulls out and Aragorn sucks her juices off Legolas’s thick cock while Arwen grips his hair and coos that he’s such a good boy, dripping her cum all over his tongue.

“Fuck yes!” I fist-pump the air.

Mac startles awake. I drop my phone on the bed.

He sits up in a rush. “I fell asleep.”

“It’s okay.” I bite my lips and press my thighs together, willing the pulse between them to calm the fuck down. Do not imagine Mac as Legolas or Aragorn. But it’s too late. The scene is already taking shape in my head and instead of the cast of LoTR, it’s me and Mac1 and Mac2. Fucking Cammie, sending me bean-flicking fodder while she’s getting her bean flicked by her devoted boyfriend.

“I should go back to my room?”

“It’s okay.” I pat the pillow. “Chase and Cammie can really go for a while.”

He lies back down, eyes fluttering closed. “I hope he doesn’t wear himself out for the game tomorrow.”

Three seconds later he’s asleep again.

I decide it’s better for me to read the rest of the scene when I’m alone in my own room and I can take care of my personal needs. But it doesn’t stop me from dreaming about it. Or waking up the next morning with my leg thrown over Mac’s hip and my face pressed into his neck, with Cammie and Chase standing over us, telling Mac he has to get moving because they need to be on the ice in less than half an hour.

He bolts out of bed, bleary-eyed and confused, morning chubbie straining the crotch of his jeans. Chase thrusts three protein bars at him. “I’m sorry, man, this is my bad. We gotta roll.” He gives me and Cammie two thumbs-up and ushers a still-confused Mac out the door.

“So?” Cammie’s eyes are wide and hopeful.

“Nothing happened.”

Her shoulders fall and so does her smile. “Nothing?”

“He passed out basically right away. Which is probably for the best. What if I told him I like him and he doesn’t like me that way back and we had to interrupt your fuckfest and then Chase was thrown off his game and Mac was thrown off his, and they lost the tournament because I have unrequited feelings. It was too risky.”

Cammie opens her arms.

I step into them.

“It’s okay if you’re scared to tell him.”

“I’m so scared,” I admit. More than I realized, maybe. I haven’t liked someone this much in a long time and it will hurt if he doesn’t feel the same.

“Then let him tell you first.”

CHAPTER 18

MAC