WARNING: THE FOLLOWING INCLUDES SOME CONTENT THAT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR THE MINDS OF MINORS. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SEXUAL CONTENT, THEN DO NOT READ THE SECOND HALF OF THIS CHAPTER. MUCH LOVE-THE AUTHOR.
Chapter Thirteen: Stan
Mackenzie woke up the next morning, a little light headed, to the smell of bacon. She propped herself up on one elbow and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Yawning her great displeasure at having woken up at all, Mac threw the blankets off and headed toward the bathroom. She had to pee like nobody's business.
After taking care of that tiny bit of business, Mackenzie made her way downstairs and to the kitchen. The sweet aroma of breakfast was stronger and stronger with each step. She passed a clock on the way down and checked the time. It was eleven-thirty. She furrowed her brow, thinking that John would usually have woke her up by now so he wouldn't have to be up by himself.
She then thought of the breakfast and figured he meant it to be a surprise. Mackenzie stepped down the last step and rounded the corner, and walked into the kitchen yawning. "Good morning," a voice called to her from the stove. While it did belonged to a man, it wasn't John's voice. Mackenzie's eyes snapped open and she came face to face with a ghost that often haunted her more depressing memories. Memories she hadn't relived since she and John had gotten together.
She found her voice as he smiled a wicked grin, "What the hell are you doing here, Stan? How did you find me and where is John!?!" She hadn't known she was capable of standing up to him this way. He, after all, had been the one that had hurt her so badly. He was the sole reason she was so untrusting and afraid of men.
"Slow down there, baby cakes," he purposely used one of his old nicknames for her, simply because he knew she hated it, "I was just fixing you a little meal. Don't you like bacon, eggs, and toast? It's already done. C'mon, have breakfast with me. It's your favorite."
Mackenzie shook her head, "No it isn't. And don't call me that ridiculous name. You haven't the right to be here, nor do you have the right to even speak to me. Now answer my questions."
Stan frowned down at the skillet, debating on whether or not he should light into her with one of them, "Fine. I'll tell you what you want to know."
Mackenzie saw his intense gaze and took a step backward just incase he tried anything. She was silent and waited for him to begin. When he did start, Mackenzie was sorry she asked. Stan cleared his throat, "I told wrestler boy to piss off. As you can imagine he didn't take that too well, but it's what I told him next that really got his feathers in a twine."
Mackenzie's eyes widened, "What did you-"
"I told him he shouldn't go sleeping around with other men's fiancé's," Stan informed with a twisted smirk, "I'm here because I missed you, Mac. You weren't all that hard to find either, you know. I saw you at the local gym and followed you here. You were too busy talking on the phone to notice me. I barely recognized you," he took a step forward and looked her up and down, "You've lost some weight, I see. I guess you finally realized what you'd have to do in order to get a man's attention. Is this new body how you reeled in that wrestler of yours? That John Cena fella?"
Mackenzie was still caught on the first thing he had said. He had told John that they were engaged. Mackenzie took deep breaths, "How could you? Why do you do this to me!?!" She yelled, consumed with anger. "We were never engaged! Do even realize what you've done!!?? You've just sent away the only man I have ever truly loved! I hate you!!" she yelled again, tears streaming down her face. It was the last thing she remembered before everything faded away and she bolted upright in bed.
Mackenzie's breathing was heavy, her skin clammy, and her forehead sweating. Salty tears were streaming down her face as her eyes darted around her surroundings. She had never actually gotten up. It had all been a dream. All except the smell of bacon and eggs coming from downstairs.
Mackenzie threw off the blankets and quickly paced out of the room and down the stairs, half expecting and half fearing that her dream was a reality. She stopped short in the hallway that led to the kitchen and took a deep breath before entering. There was John, fumbling around in her kitchen trying to find his way. A sigh of relief escaped her lungs before she could stop it. John sensed her presence and turned around.
She smiled when a blush came to his cheeks, "Good morn-" she didn't let him finish his greeting as she rushed into his arms and squeezed the air out of him. She looked up at him, and it was then that he realized something was up. Her brow was still a little sweaty and her eyes were misty. The smile she was flashing him was one of both happiness and relief. John pulled her back for a moment, "What's wrong?"
Mac's expression turned to one of surprise, then to embarrassment, "I had a bad dream, is all."
"Did I die or something?" John chuckled lightly.
"No…nothing like that, although I'm sure that would have been worse. It was more like…someone sent you away with a lie," Mackenzie tried to put it to words without giving away too much about her past.
John was obviously confused, "Why don't you start at the beginning," he offered as he led her to the table and sat her down. He then turned back toward the cabinets and continued searching for the plates.
"They're in the cabinet directly to the right of the refrigerator," Mac forced a smile, as she guessed correctly that plates were indeed what he was searching for.
"Thanks. Now tell me about that dream," he pressed as he started piling up all the food he had cooked for them.
"I dreamt that I had woke up to the smell of food, believe it or not, and that I got up, thinking that I'd find you in here cooking away," Mac smiled at the grin that adorned his sweet face, because she had indeed found him cooking. "Anyway, when I came downstairs, it wasn't you that I found…, but someone else," She paused thinking of the right words, "Someone I used to know. He told me that-"
John put down the plates as he was suddenly very aware of what she had dreamed about. He made his way to where she sat and squatted before her, "Who was it, Mac?" He knew she was hiding something. It was the same something or someone that she had always avoided talking to him about. If it was starting to haunt her dreams, then damn it, now was the time to be talking about it, John decided.
"It's nothing, John. It was just a dumb dream," Mac fibbed.
"Bullshit. If it were so dumb, you wouldn't have been so relieved to see me this morning. You wouldn't have been crying about it, or sweating in your sleep. I noticed as soon as you looked at me that something was wrong," his eyes were genuinely concerned. "Now you're going to tell me, finally, what it is that's had you so terrified from the very first moment I met you."
"I did tell you," Mac pleaded, "People used to make fun of me and make bets with buddies about how far they could get with 'Fat Mac'," She spoke her old nickname with such venom, that John couldn't help but kiss her as hard as he could. It was so intense that it knocked all the breath out of her, and along with it, all of her hurt. She melted into his lap, and John stood, picking her up in the process. He moved her to the sofa where he could hold her.
He knew if he made her aware of all that she is today, and forget about all that she felt she was in the past, then they'd be able to get somewhere. He ended the kiss as soon as they were on the couch. Mac's eyes bore into him with something so indescribably wonderful that, for a minute, he thought he might cry. John quickly shook that urge aside and gave her a pleading stare. The kiss had worked it's magic, because Mac nodded and let out a steadying breath before telling all.
She told him about Stan and how he had bet his buddies that he could get into her pants by graduation night. The bet had taken place during the beginning of her last semester, and she had been fool enough to believe that someone like him could look past her humiliating state. She told John how she had truly believed Stan to be capable of loving her for who she truly was, before she had even learned to love herself.
She continued her story with graduation day. "I was trying to find Stan in the huge crowd of families and black gowns and caps, when I spotted him laughing it up with his buddies," She paused to collect her emotions, "I figured they were joking around about their usual stupid stuff, but they didn't see me coming and when I got close enough, I realized they were joking about me."
"So have you won the bet yet?" Stan's best friend, Paul, smirked.
"What bet?" Stan teased, mock innocently.
"C'mon, you know what I'm talking about. Have you fucked fat Mac, yet?" Paul sniggered at the hilarious concept.
"Yah," another buddy, Jason, interjected, "Have you rolled that jelly yet?"
They all burst into another fit of laughter, before Stan caught his breath, "No, but it's all set up for tonight. We talked about it yesterday, and Macky Poo," he broke off with a laugh, "agrees that it's the best way to say goodbye." He and his buddies began laughing again.
"Does she really think you're in love with her?" Paul sneered.
"I guess. She really thinks she loves me too. She's always saying it, you know." Stan changed his voice to mimic hers, "I love you, Stan." They all shared another laugh as Mackenzie listened in horror from her position among the crowd as he went on to mock all of their most intimate conversations to his friends. It was all too horrible to believe, and that's when Stan said it-the most hurtful thing of all.
"How could I ever love something like that? I mean, c'mon, she's disgusting."
When Mackenzie finished, the room was silent. John was taught with anger for those bastards. He decided then and there, that if he ever saw Stan he was going to beat the living hell out of him. Hopefully his old college buddies would be there as well. "Mackenzie-"
"Don't," she looked up at him with unshed tears, "Don't feel sorry me, John. My mother does that enough with all of her stupid blind dates and pitiful stares."
John stood up and looked away, "That's not what I was doing." He was angry, and for good reason. Mackenzie had stereotyped him. From the moment she had first laid eyes on him, he had been categorized with assholes like Stan and his friends.
Mackenzie swallowed. She'd not ever really seen him angry, and she didn't know how to handle it, "Why are you mad at me?" Her voice was shaking, and her throat was constricting around a growing lump. She had just divulged the most humiliating moment in her life to him, and he was angry? Why?
John turned to see her falling to pieces and he rounded on himself. What was he doing? She had probably put every man into that category, and why shouldn't she? It was her right after what those pricks had done to her. It was up to him to change her perspective, he realized. The anger left instantly as he reached for her and effortlessly lifted her so that her hands were on his shoulders and her waist was at his ear.
Mac was rigid at first, but slowly she relaxed, "What the-"
"I'm sorry, Mac. I was being a jerk," he admitted. "You and your big eyes…" he cooed as he let her slide down his torso. When they were face to face he held her there, "I knew you had stereotyped me with guys like Stan."
Instant guilt and remorse laced her features, "John…I'm sorry. I didn't know you-"
"I know. Don't apologize. You had every right-"
"No I didn't," Mac shook her head, "I just do it. Instantly. Without even thinking about it. Every man I've met since Stan, I've crucified in my mind simply because he was a man."
"What about now?" John questioned, "Do you still do it?"
Mac thought back to all the men she'd met since being with John. Randy, Shelton, Eric, Jericho, Adam, and not one of them had she immediately condemned upon first sight. Smiling with tears in her eyes, she shook her head, "Not since I fell in-" She swallowed and averted her eyes, "Not since I've been with you."
"I guess that means I broke the mold," he smiled. John hadn't missed what she almost said, but he wasn't sure he was ready to go there himself, so he let it slide and changed the subject. "Hey, our food's probably gotten cold by now."
Mac smiled, glad that he let it go…for now, and kissed him, "That's what the microwave is for, right?"
"Right," he agreed, still squeezing her.
"Babe?" she smiled.
"Could you…um…let me go?" Mac pleaded.
"Never," he declared.
Mac wiggled as her bladder tingled against John's waist, "I have to pee."
"Oh," he said as he lowered her to her feet, "Then I guess I'd better. I'll warm up breakfast." He called after her as she darted toward the bathroom, "Hurry up, woman!"
Breakfast was still settling in Mac's stomach as she climbed into the steamy bubble bath that John prepared for her while she was finishing up her breakfast. He went upstairs under the pretense of taking a shower himself. When she came up, thinking about sneaking up on him, she found him dropping some of her pink bath beads into a tub full of bubbles and hot water.
After clicking the play button on her cd player, John told her he was going to the store to replace all the milk he'd drank, and to pick up a few other things. He didn't elaborate, and Mackenzie found herself curious. She figured he was just using the milk as another shield to disguise his real intentions, but she was too busy enjoying the comfort of the bath to linger too long on the subject. Smiling, Mackenzie submerged her head beneath the bubbles and soaked her hair, which had been getting a great deal longer. The soft sounds of Mozart became muffled under the water.
When she came back up for air, she grabbed the nearby shampoo bottle and squeezed some into her palm. She looked around her luxurious master bathroom as she lathered the shampoo into her thick, brown hair. It was a large bathtub, about the size of a hot tub, that sat in the corner of the room with two huge mirrors that covered the walls on either side of the tub.
There was a small seat built into the tub located in one corner of the triangular masterpiece where the two mirrors met. Above, two burgundy curtains hung from ceiling to floor, drawn back by two ties hooked to opposite walls. This bathroom was the sole real reason she had purchased the house. She called it a masterpiece, because to any woman, it surely was a work of art.
Mac ducked under the water again and rinsed her hair of the shampoo. She hummed along to one of her favorite numbers, totally oblivious to the fact that she was no longer the only one in the room. The music was calming, and water was warm. Mackenzie kept her eyes closed when she came back up. She couldn't remember a time when she was more relaxed in this house, all by herself. She was usually jumpy and her imagination often got the best of her. 'Not today,' she thought. 'Not today.'
John watched as Mackenzie's chest rose slightly with each breath. Each time it rose, it nearly exposed her nipples which were hiding seductively under the snow-white bubbles and hot water. He felt himself growing hard and that's when he knew he'd better get out of there before he jumped in with her, but that's when she did it. At the precise moment his hand was on the doorknob, Mackenzie made a soft moan of pleasure.
He turned to see her lips slightly parted and smiling, water glistening over her exposed neck, the top half of her chest, and bubbles sliding slowly down her right and bare, bent knee. The air caught in his lungs and he felt himself moving toward her, quietly. Before he knew what he was doing, he was completely naked and carefully climbing in the tub without Mac noticing. The warm water added to his erection as he slowly, soundlessly submerged his entire lower body into the lily fragranced bath. And to think, he'd only come in there to tell her he was back.
Mac felt her foot rub up against something soft and fleshy, and her eyes immediately snapped open. She drew back in shock when she saw John sitting opposite her, no doubt completely naked underneath all the bubbles, smiling a wickedly wanton gaze in her direction. Mackenzie blushed and sat up, and instantly realized it to be a mistake when John's gaze immediately swept to her exposed breasts. Bubbles were slowly sliding down her full, round mounds and off her nipples. She looked up again to see his mouth slightly agape. She took in a sharp breath, the heat he was radiating was starting to affect her as well, "Where did you come from?" she asked with an intentional husky tone.
John licked his lips as he dared to close some of the space between them. He reached out and cupped one of her breasts, allowing his thumb to slightly graze back and forth on her nipple. Mac leaned back and let out a small groan of pleasure. John wedged his way between her legs and pressed his mouth to her ear, "I think the more important question is, where am I headed?"
Mackenzie reached up and ran her hands down his chest, "John," she whispered before arching up instinctively to his touch. She felt his hard member against her abdomen and for a moment felt a twinge of fear. She knew for a fact he was large…or at least…she guessed he was large compared to others. She hadn't seen a lot them, but he was definitely much bigger than Stan. She supposed it didn't matter really, considering she was still a virgin and probably most anything would hurt going into an opening as small as hers.
John kissed her softly on her lips, then moved his mouth to her breasts where he teased and nipped her nipples with his lips, tongue, and teeth. Mackenzie felt an ache of arousal as he continued his seduction. All fear was swept from her mind and replaced with a need and a desire so intense she felt she might explode. Knocking aside all modesty, the same urge that took her over in the hotel room not too long ago, overtook her in the bathtub.
She reached for his shaft and gently began to stroke him. John felt himself go rigid as she touched him. She turned them over so that it was she who was on top. John moaned as she continued to tease his throbbing cock and began kissing his neck, teasing his nipples, and nibbling his ears. Her breath was heavy in his ear as she whispered to him, "I want you…"
John opened his eyes, "Are you sure?" He swallowed a moan as she stroked him again. She nodded her assurance with lustful eyes. John sat up slightly as he positioned her directly above his penis head, the tip just outside the door to her depths. "Show me," he breathed.
Mackenzie licked her lips. She knew how it was done, and she knew to take it slow. So, slowly, she slid down over his head, causing John bite his lower lip in anticipation. Adjusting herself to that depth, she slid down another inch. This time John let out a moan of mounting desire. John was halfway inside her moist walls, when Mackenzie herself was becoming overwhelmed with the need to have him completely within.
Gathering all her nerve Mackenzie pressed a hard, needy kiss onto John's lips and forced herself down hard onto the rest of his length. She let a muffled half yelp, half moan before she felt the pain subside and herself convulsing around him. John had gone a bit stiff with fear that she had hurt herself, but she began to move on top of him and he became lost.
Mackenzie began to let out little, slightly embarrassed moans, but they soon turned into louder moans of ecstasy and complete abandon. John was now pumping her waist up and down, meeting her half way with hard thrusts and soft thrust; long thrusts and staccato thrusts. He felt his shaft pounding harder and harder as her tunnel caved in on his shaft with each withdrawal, then slide down the length with each pump. His moans mingled with hers.
Mackenzie instinctively used his shoulders for leverage as she allowed him to guide her to cloud nine. She felt herself drifting away with each pump of his hard, pulsing member. It filled her up so wonderfully, and as he thrust in and out of her, his shaft gently rubbed the bud of her clit, causing her to shiver with desire.
She felt herself beginning to convulse with pleasure as her heart began to pound louder in her ears. She felt her entire body go rigid and begin to shake. "John!" she groaned as total release swept over her. He noticed as she climaxed, and a few pumps later he felt himself about to release. He pulled out just in time to avoid spilling himself inside her.
Mackenzie collapsed on top of him and John pulled her closer. He yanked the plug out of the drain then tugged Mac's hair away from her face, "Can you stand?"
Mac smiled with satisfaction, "No chance in hell."
Mackenzie sighed as she burrowed deeper into John's shoulder. "How do you feel?" she asked.
A lazy, "MMMMM," was his reply. He hugged her closer and rolled them over. He pushed the drying strands of hair away from her face, "How do you feel?"
She smiled, "I don't know what it is that I'm feeling, but it's absolutely wonderful."
He planted a soft kiss on her slightly red lips, "I got something for you."
"What?" Mackenzie was too relaxed and too drained to argue with the concept, but damn it, she could certainly question it.
"Don't get all excited," he leaned up on his elbows and kissed her neck softly, "it's not much."
"You don't have to," she paused with a yawn, "get me anything. Ever."
"I know that, but I got it because I wanted to," he smiled.
"What is it?" She asked, suddenly very curious.
"That's the catch," he smiled. "I'm not going to give it to you just yet."
"Why not?" she whined, playfully.
John chuckled, "Well, maybe if you're a good girl, I'll give it to you early…"
Mac bit him on the shoulder in response to his teasing, "Then why'd you tell me about it, if you're not going to let me see it?"
John smiled, changing the subject, "You bit me, Mac. Good girls don't bite…" he leaned closer to her ear, "They nibble." He then proceeded to demonstrate his point by nibbling on her ear, her lip, and her neck.
Mac giggled and hugged him to her frame. "Fine, if you're not going to let me see it, then I'll just have nibble it out of you."
"Oh?" he lifted a suggestive eyebrow before she pushed him over and proceeded to do exactly as she promised. It began innocent enough, and ended in another round of lovemaking. By the time they finished again, Mackenzie was bordering on sleep, and John was already there. Although Mac was completely nude, the thought of dressing never crossed her mind. She was naked, and she was completely comfortable and unashamed. The time was exactly four in the afternoon, and the sounds of Mozart could be heard silently floating throughout the house.
Author's Note: I am so very sorry for the lack of updates on this story. I'm getting the feel for it once again, and thanks to Christmas Vacation, I've got more time on my hands. I hope you liked it, and as an extra bonus, I added Mac and John's first time to this chapter. It just felt natural. :D Anyway, I love you guys, and please don't report me for smut!! :D Also, if you want to give me a good belated Christmas gift, each of you will review!!
Happy Holidays! ;)