N. Walters - MacNamaras Lady

He nodded to Katie and Cain as they headed toward the bride and groom.

All the while he chatted, he kept one eye on Missy, moving ever closer to his target. He was hungry, but what he wanted wasn’t on the menu. T.S.’ mouth watered at the thought of finding out what was beneath that snug dress Missy was wearing. He wanted to lick her dark skin as he peeled away her clothing, piece by piece. Discover all her secrets.

Was she wearing thigh-high stockings or pantyhose? Did she favor bikini panties or thongs? She could be wearing granny panties but he didn’t think so. Not that it mattered. It was a fallacy that men really cared about such things. All that really mattered to a guy was that his woman would let him take the damn things off. Men were simple and basic when it came to things like sex. But there was something about Missy that screamed fancy lingerie.

What color would her nipples be? Rosy beige or light brown? Would they be small or large?

The pants he was wearing went to a whole other level of uncomfortable as his cock stood at attention. He was glad the damn jacket helped cover the telltale bulge.

“Hell of a party.” He picked up an empty plate and began to fill it from the various offerings.

“It was a wonderful ceremony.” The low, sultry sound of Missy’s voice wrapped around him, making him fantasize about long summer nights and hot sex. Heck, he’d take a cool fall night, a cold winter one or a wet spring evening. He wasn’t picky.

This close, they were at eye-level. Missy might have been a smidge taller than he was in those killer shoes of hers. He didn’t mind at all. She’d be a perfect fit for him in the bedroom. Their bodies would align perfectly when they hit the mattress.

He’d always felt awkward and clumsy around smaller women, afraid he’d hurt them with his passion. That wouldn’t be a problem with Missy. She’d be able to handle him. Easily.

And it was time to change his train of thought before he really embarrassed himself.

“They look good together.” He motioned with his head toward Lucas and Candy who were currently dancing to the soulful music seeping from the stereo speakers.

“They really do,” she agreed. She broke off a piece of brownie and popped it into her mouth. “I knew he was something special the first time he brought Candy brownies at work. These things are incredible.”

T.S. watched, totally enthralled as Missy chewed slowly, her eyes taking on a dreamy appearance before she finally swallowed. A low moan came from deep in her throat. “Oh yeah, these are deadly.”

His muscles tightened and he had the urge to punch his best friend for making the damn brownies. He wanted to draw such a sound from Missy’s lips. Not that he wanted anything permanent. But he sure as hell wouldn’t mind getting Missy out of his system. She’d haunted his nights and fantasies long enough.

He frowned, not liking where his thoughts were heading. No one had control over him. Ever. Not since he was eighteen. It had been a woman then who’d helped orchestrate his downfall.

No, he reminded himself. He’d done it by being stupid enough to believe she wanted him. Lorna was the sister of his brother’s girlfriend and he’d lusted for her as only a teenage boy could. That was the reason he’d been in the car that fateful night. He’d been thrilled that his brother had let him drive the beat-up, shit box of a car he’d owned. Stupid.

He shoved aside the memories. God, they were so long ago but they still haunted him. He put down the plate, his hunger suddenly gone.

“You okay?”

Missy’s concern was like acid in an already festering wound. “Fine.” He could want a woman and still be in complete control. Hadn’t he been proving that fact his entire life? It didn’t have to mean anything. It wouldn’t mean anything.

“Let’s dance.” He took the plate from her hands and set it on the table. Before she could object to his highhandedness, he added, “It would make Candy happy.”

Missy frowned but allowed him to escort her to the area of the floor that had been cleared for dancing. Candy and Lucas were swaying to another slow tune. Sure enough, Candy smiled and waved her fingers at them. “Isn’t this a great song?”

“Wonderful,” he answered.

“I’m glad you asked Missy to dance.” He couldn’t help but smile at Candy’s enthusiasm. She wasn’t fooling anyone. He knew she’d love to have him and Missy become a couple. Wasn’t going to happen. Not in the permanent way that she wanted. But that didn’t mean he and Missy couldn’t have another kind of relationship. A very adult and sexual one.

“Maybe I asked him ,” Missy countered, her tone tart.

Candy laughed as Lucas spun her away. “Either way. I’m just glad you’re having fun.”

T.S. decided he wouldn’t mind having some fun, especially if it involved him and Missy and no clothing. Maybe she’d be agreeable to the idea. A man could only hope. He took Missy into his arms and began to move. One of her hands sat on his shoulder, while the other was held in his hand. Her chest brushed against his as he twirled her in a circle before settling down to sway to the music.

Missy didn’t know whether to stamp her foot in frustration or walk away from T.S. She did neither. No way did she want to cause a scene at her best friend’s wedding reception, not when Candy looked so darn happy.

When she’d told Candy she should have an affair with Lucas she’d never dreamed they end up married. But they looked so right together. Lucas held Candy as if she was the most precious thing in his world. Missy ignored the twinge of envy that coursed through her.

There was plenty of time for her to find a man when she was ready. She had a ten-step plan and she was on about step five. She’d gotten her education, left home for good, gotten a job, her own apartment and a car. Her next step was to work up the corporate ladder a bit farther, get her salary where she wanted it to be. That might take a while longer than she’d anticipated. With the economy being what it was she’d been lucky not to lose her job as so many others had. Publishing wasn’t exactly a stable business and, with the cutbacks, editing jobs were in short supply.

She’d thought about looking for a job elsewhere, of leaving Chicago permanently, but in the end, she hadn’t been able to do it. She loved her job and Candy was the best friend she’d ever had.

T.S. put a hand on the small of her back and clasped her fingers with his other one, pulling her back to the problem at hand. And he was a very big problem.

As their bodies slowly moved to the low, bluesy tune she felt herself wanting to snuggle closer to him and that just wouldn’t do. He wasn’t part of her plan.

Like everything else in her life, Missy knew exactly what she wanted in a man. He’d be in business, maybe a lawyer or a banker. He’d make a good salary, own his own home and be established in his career. He’d be cultured and like classical music, the arts and theatre. He’d drink fine wines and appreciate gourmet food. In short, he’d be the male version of her.

T.S. MacNamara did not fit that definition by any stretch of her imagination. The man worked in construction and drank domestic beer from the bottle. Not that she was a snob. Not really. She liked him fine. After all, he was Lucas’ friend.

He was also very easy on the eyes. One thing all that construction work had done for him was build one hell of a body. She let her hand slide down from his shoulder to rest on his biceps. It was huge. She’d seen them plenty while he was working on the downstairs addition to Lucas and Candy’s home. She’d intentionally dropped by to visit Candy several times when she’d known he’d be there.