Three Hundred and Sixty
by
Rose was awake. No one looking at her could tell since her eyes were still shut, but the small smile on her face might have hinted that she was well aware of her surroundings. Bright morning light filtered into the platform bedroom, and the soft sounds of the marina drifted in. She was on her side, and could feel Mac's warm hip against her spine as he lay on his back.
He was talking in a low serious tone, and she was trying not to give any indication she was awake, since his words were obviously not directed to her.
"Harry, we have to have a little talk, pal," Mac was half-whispering to his son. Even though she was facing the other way, Rose knew he had the baby resting on his bare chest, his lips gently brushing the crown of his son's head.
"Listen bud, now that you're getting older, I think we can talk man to man here--it's about tonight. Mom and I are going out," he continued. The baby made a snuffling noise, and Rose sensed Mac gently rubbing his small back.
"It's been a good three months since you showed up, and I miss her. Before you moved in, she used to be all mine. Most of the time, I can handle sharing her, but tonight I gotta have dibs, okay?"
Harry made a mewling noise and Rose tried not to giggle as Mac continued.
"I know, I know--but you're doing a great job sleeping for six hours at a stretch now, and I think you can handle it. Babalara and Grandpa Matt are going to be here, and you have them wrapped around your twinkie toes anyway."
There was a quiet pause; Rose wanted to roll over, but fought the urge as Mac spoke again to his son.
"So what do you say? You can have her all today, but by seven tonight, she and I are headed out while you sleep a while, okay? Speak up if you have a problem with any of this--"
Harry gave a tiny belch, making both Rose and Mac chuckle.
"--Objection noted. I think Mom's awake now--?"
Rose shifted to look at them, taking in the sight of Harry in his white onesie looking bright eyed and alert as he gripped handfuls of Mac's chest hair.
"Hey big guy--you up for breakfast?" she murmured, sitting up and taking him from Mac, who winced and detached the tiny fingers from his fur.
"Kid's getting a grip on him--and I don't think he's convinced yet that mine don't work--"
"Call him an optimist--" Rose giggled as she deftly slipped her nightgown off one shoulder and pressed eager Harry to her breast. Latching on, he began to nurse contentedly, little face peeking around the swell of her. Mac grinned.
"What?" Rose shot him a puzzled look. Mac reached a finger over and stroked the fine blonde peach fuzz on the top of Harry's head as he nursed.
"It's still sorta neat to watch you do that--"
"Oh come on! After the first month I'd think the thrill would be gone," Rose replied, a small smile on the corner of her mouth. Mac shook his head.
"Nope. Not only is it one of Nature's finest symbiotic relationships, it's sexy as hell, Brat. You get this dreamy expression on your face, and it turns me on," he confessed softly. Rose winked at him.
"Keep up that kinda talk and you could get lucky tonight, dad."
Harry snorted against her breast at that moment, as if he'd heard and disapproved; but Mac and Rose laughed.
"Sorry pal, but even mom's a little anxious to take a break from your diapers and spit-ups" she chided her little son. Mac kissed her shoulder and climbed out of bed. Barnum crawled out from under it, tail wagging hopefully.
"Come on Barn, ready for the tennis ball retrieval championships?" Mac urged. Barnum quivered with excitement. As Mac went to get dressed, the dog trotted over to the edge of the bed and gave a little chuff, resting his muzzle on the mattress and looking up at them. Rose shifted Harry to the other breast and patted the Great Dane.
"Hey Barn, we're okay--thanks for keeping an eye on us through the night--" she told him.
*** *** ***
The day rolled on in the rumpled way that days with Harry always did. Diaper changes, a bath, naptimes, playtimes, nursing and stretches of housework here and there. Later in the afternoon, Rose napped herself, while Mac took Harry shopping.
"Eggs, milk, diapers and a bag of Cheetos for Tavon--" Mac murmured to his son as they worked the cart down the aisle. Harry was riding in the baby carrier close to his father's chest, head turned, watching everything. Easily MacGyver and son strode through the market, pausing now and then to put items in the cart. Slowly, thoughtfully, they rolled down the aisle with deodorants and personal products.
"Hmmmmm---" Trying desperately not to blush, he scrutinized the display of condoms.
"Geez Harry, your mom spoils me," he muttered to the warm weight on his chest. "I haven't had to buy any of these in *years*."
The baby squirmed, kicking his feet and making his father laugh.
"Hey! I'm the one who's supposed to get excited about tonight, not *you*, Baldy--get your *own* girlfriend," he told the baby as he made a selection and tossed it into the cart.
By the time they returned to the Grotto Rose's parents had arrived. Lara swooped in on Mac, plucking Harry from the carrier and clucking over him delightedly while Mac hugged his father-in-law and Tavion.
"Good to see you lad--"Matt twinkled.
Mac gave Tavon's shoulder a squeeze; the boy grinned.
"Mac? Can I play with Barnum?"
"Sure--take him out to the park, but keep him in the dog run if you take him off the leash, okay?"
Delighted, the boy scurried away while Lara cooed over the baby.
"Rose, are you sure you're feeding him enough?"
"Mama! The little goober barely gives me time to brush my teeth as it is!" her daughter complained playfully. "He's *not* starving to death--"
"Let me be the judge of that--" her mother teased. For a while they all sat in the living room, talking and playing with Harry. Mac cheerfully demonstrated his skill at diapering.
"The first time I did this, I taped him a little too loosely--"
"Oh yeah," Rose giggled. "Pete went to pick him up and Harry dropped his drawers right in Pete's lap--thank goodness it was only a wet diaper. My son is such a cutie nudie," she confided to her parents. Matt laughed.
"This coming from a girl who swore she'd never even *kiss* a boy, much less marry one and have babies--"
Rose went pink; Mac joined in the laughter.
"I was six at the time, Dad--let's remember things have *changed* a little since then," she pointed out. Her father looked around the Grotto, grinning.
"And all for the better I see. Aren't you and Mac supposed to go out this evening?"
"Oh yeah--" looking at each other they grinned. Lara shooed them off.
"Go get ready already--Matt, Tavon and I can handle his highness here. Have you pumped, darling?"
"I'll do it before we go, and store it for you in the fridge," Rose replied distractedly.
*** *** ***
Mac looked at Rose and a lump came to his throat. She was wearing the low cut green dress and a simple strand of pearls as she walked up to him.
"Still fits," she enthused. He nodded, not quite trusting his voice as behind him, Tavon whistled.
"Oooohhh hot mama!"
Rose broke up, shoulders shaking as she laughed, but Mac added his own whistle as Barnum ran over, tail wagging.
"Not you, genius--" Mac chided the dog. Rose looked her husband over and sighed. He was in his one good blue suit, and was clean and combed, with only the Nikes to indicate an independent streak.
"Maybe I should get my sneakers on too--" she teased, running a hand down her stockinged leg to the high-heeled sandals. Mac shook his head violently.
"Oh no---the heels *stay*, Brat--" he warned in a low voice meant for her ears only. She blushed and looked over to the sofa, where Matt was reading a professional journal, tiny Harry sound asleep across his knees. Her father looked up at them and smiled over the top of his half-moon glasses.
"I can sense your evil intentions for my daughter all the way across this room, Mac."
"Yes sir, but I'll have her home by two at the latest--"
"Fair enough," Matt chuckled as he rubbed a gentle hand across the baby's back. "Lara, come say good bye,"
Rose's mother came to give her a hug, they whispered together for a moment.
"There are three bottles in the fridge, but you'll need them only if he wakes up."
"Yes, yes devochka moya. And you're taking your pump?"
"Yes mama--"
They finally made it out the door, Rose rolling her eyes as Mac cheerfully took the bag from her and hooked it on his shoulder. She looked around.
"Where's the Jeep?"
"We're walking tonight," he told her with a smile. Puzzled, Rose linked her arm with his and they crossed to the park, looking out over the water of the harbor. The sun had set, and the waxing moon above was nearly full. Rose pressed against Mac's shoulder.
"Okay, okay--spill it, Bud. If you're feeling anything like *I'm* feeling, walks are nice, but there are *other* activities that I'm interested in restarting--" she growled, feeling a little frustrated. In answer to her query, Mac pointed with his chin to the dock.
"Down there--the Perfect."
"The Perfect? Penny and Perry's boat?"
"Ours for the night--actually for a few weeks, but I think tonight's the most important date--" he replied in a slightly breathless tone as Rose squeezed him.
"And we're still close enough to the Grotto in case there's a problem! Oh Mac you think of everything--no wonder I love you!"
"Wellllllll--" he admitted with a comical twist to his face, "Actually I didn't want to be too far away myself, but I did want something with some privacy. Perry offered us the boat weeks ago, and it just seemed--right for tonight."
He stepped in front of her; gathering Rose into his arms and held her for a moment, the light breeze on the water ruffling their hair.
"So you're up for this--healed, healthy--?" Mac murmured.
"--And completely *horny*, babe--" Rose flicked her tongue wetly against his neck. He shivered, grip around her tightening in reaction. She could sense his pulse jump and giggled, enjoying his swift response.
"Still got the hots for me?"
"The hots--yeah. You could say that, Brat. Boiling searing scorching blistering hots--" came his passionate hiss as his body pressed against hers, molding perfectly. With deliberate grace, Rose began to slide her thigh teasingly between his, earning a soft moan for her efforts.
"Boat, get to the boat, get to the boat--" Mac warned with a forced grin. She gave a nod, and together they hurried down the dock towards the Perfect. Unlocking the wire gate at the foot of the dock, Mac ushered her in and over to the gangplank, reset the bolt and followed Rose as she looked around her.
"Oh it's gorgeous! How big is this thing anyway?"
"This is an executive yacht, so it's got to be sixty feet--but frankly, I'm a lot more interested in the inside amenities at the moment--" he announced, stepping over the side and fishing in his pocket. Out came the keys, and he led her to the doorways in the back of the standing cab. Rose ooohed and ahhhed as they stepped down into a full living room done up tastefully in tropical themes. She reached for a lamp, lighting it as Mac set the pump down to point things out.
"Fridge, phone, bar, TV--scratch *that* tonight, bathroom complete with tub, and last but absolutely not least--"
He opened a set of doors to reveal a kind-sized bed nestled in a charmingly small cabin. Rose dimpled into a smile and sighed. She walked over at him, but he gave held up a warning hand.
"Before anything else, you take care of your things and I'll give them a call at the Grotto so they have our number here, okay? Nothing, not *one* thing is going to interrupt tonight, I wanna be sure of that."
She winked, picking up the pump and stepping into the bathroom.
When Rose stepped out later, MacGyver had put on one of her favorite slow jazz tapes and the music was circling the corners of the cabin. He had just finished lighting a few candles when he looked over at her.
"Oh yeah--" His smile was full voltage seductive; Rose felt the heat of it and blushed. She busied herself putting the pump and milk away, giving herself time to cool down. Undaunted, Mac slid behind her, lightly lifting her hair to kiss her neck. She shivered.
"You know what, Brat?"
"Mmmmmm?"
"I think you've a little nervous," he teased. She turned around to meet his amused gaze and nodded.
"Sure am--I'm not the woman I used to be, Mac. I'm--" she hesitated and gathered her courage to rush on, "--bigger and flabbier and a *mom* now. What's so sexy about that?"
Mac chuckled low in his throat as he pulled her closer.
"Sexy? You want to talk sexy? Rose, I want you to forget what you think about yourself and listen to what *I* think about you, okay?"
She went to say something, but he laid a gentle hand on her lips and continued.
"Sure you're a mom, and physically you've been through a lot, but frankly, I'm excited by how strong you are, how curvy and sensual and powerful you've gotten. It's like some sort of switch went on, and now almost everything about you is driving me crazy Rose--ah geez, you smell great and your skin glows and you give that little hip wriggle when you wake up in the morning--do you have *any* idea how much I've had to hold back just pouncing on you?"
Relieved at his words, Rose let her arms slide up under his arms to clutch his shoulders. He gave a pleased groan as she molded against him, and the pleasant friction of their clothes made them both sigh.
"Oh man, I've been patient, but sleeping next to you especially this last week has been torture!" he growled. Rose sighed happily, simply savoring the physical heat seeping between them. MacGyver kissed the top of her head; his hands sliding down her back to rest possessively on the rounded curve of her bottom. Neither Mac nor Rose was breathing calmly. She lifted her face, and Mac slowly, very slowly dropped his warm mouth on hers.
The kiss was piercingly sweet and breathlessly passionate as they let their tongues dance together wetly. Rose tried not to wriggle, but her hips shifted under Mac's grip and his entire body tensed. Rose broke away from his mouth for a moment to catch her breath, but Mac never stopped kissing her, letting his lips caress her cheeks, her chin, her nose with the deliberate passion.
"Mac--" she growled with a laugh, "Mac I want to get naked--"
"--Not yet," he replied. Astonished, she pulled away, but he took her hand and led her back to the living room. The candles were giving the room a golden glow, and the soft sway of the water under them seemed to match the rhythm of the music. Mac tugged her into his arms again, rocking with her; Rose let him. His voice dropped an octave as he reminded her,
"Hey, it's the green dress, remember? I always wanted to hold you, dance with you when you were wearing it--"
"Big fantasy of yours?"
"The biggest--well, that and the hockey camp one--" Rose snorted against his shoulder as he smiled to himself. They danced for a few moments longer, but just when Rose thought she couldn't take the restraint a moment longer, Mac's hands gently began lifting the back edge of her skirt.
"Ohhhhhhh yesss--" Came his grateful groan as he touched the satiny smooth bare flesh, "She remembered--"
"Remembered? How could I forget?" came Rose's giggle. "After you told me I was so flattered and stirred up I think we did it about five times--"
His only reply was a frantic sound in the back of his throat as his hands cupped her tightly. Rose squirmed.
"Ummm, Mac? I hate to bring it up at this time, but--"
"Yeah yeah, Harry and I went shopping--' he replied impatiently. "I'm prepared--"
"Good," she muttered anxiously, "Because I want you really, really bad--" She began to work the buttons on his white shirt with her teeth. Mac couldn't help but laugh at her frantic expression.
"Me too, but I'm not going to let you shred this shirt, Brat--" he laughed; gripping her hands and helping them gently undo the buttons. She bounced up and down impatiently, and the sight of his wife's eagerness made another surge of desire rise through his body.
"Gotta work on your pacing, sweetheart--" he told her. Rose shook her head and flung the shirt and jacket over her shoulder, a mock ferocious look on her face.
"I'll work on pacing later, when I'm not so---"
"--Desperately horny?" he managed as her hands slid over his chest, followed by her hungry mouth. She nodded, too busy to speak, and Mac wrapped his arms around her, letting his fingers undo the zipper down the back of her dress.
Things were getting semi-frantic, and within moments they found themselves on the sofa, locked in a deeply passionate kiss. Rose shifted on Mac, her hips beginning a sweet grind that brought a groan from him.
"Rose, baby . . . bed--" Mac tried to speak, but his entire body was too focused on the rush of long-denied lust, and his thinking was far from clear. She was stretched out on top of him, clad only in her garter belt, stockings, heels and pearls.
"Yeah . . ." With a groan, she slid off of him and stood up, running her hands through her long hair, letting it tangle wildly. Mac clambered off the sofa, caught her wrist and swiftly towed her to the bedroom, yanking her down on him again there.
"Oh, oh, Ohhhhhhh--" came Mac's completely helpless moaning as Rose let her pink lips reclaim possession of his body. She kissed and nibbled every exposed surface, from his chest to his arms and shoulders to his navel without restraint. By the time she helped him take the slacks off, both of them were breathing hard.
"Mac, it's going to be . . . a little snug," Rose muttered as she tore open the little foil packet with her teeth. Somewhat dazed, Mac shifted his gaze from her hands to her face, a puzzled expression crossing his features.
"You or me?"
"Me--" she explained, "When I got stitched up . . . Doctor Chun mentioned it would be--tight."
He laughed low, guiding her hands as she slipped the thin latex into place.
"Easy, easy there . . . God, so now after all this I have to be *gentle*, my regenerated virgin bride?"
The look on her face made him laugh and ache at the same time, a hot glance full of desire and love that brought him to full surge. Rose grabbed his shoulders and threw herself back on the satiny quilt, pulling him onto her tense frame. Her long stocking-covered legs slid up on the outside of his thighs to wrap around his hips even as her hand slipped between their bodies.
"Forget . . . gentle," Rose sighed as he throbbed in her hand. With a light rub, she guided him. Mac thrust, dropping his face to her shoulder, his passionate grunt muffled against her skin. Rose gasped, hands clutching his back when he plunged slickly into her.
"Ah--!" came her strangled sigh as he pulled back and stroked again, his strong knees planted on the quilt, giving him purchase. Rose shivered; a squeeze of her hands urged him on. Mac sighed, his body setting an urgently erotic rhythm with hers, the searing focus of their world wrapped in the touch of skin and the taste of sweat and the sound of sighs.
"OhmyGodMaaaaaaccccc--" Rose called, her voice sliding up octave by octave as she plunged into her orgasm. In response, MacGyver tensed, his own body more than ready; he surged deep within her, his entire frame shuddering with the intensity of his passion.
They collapsed, and after a moment, Rose began to laugh, a deep hearty satisfied sound that echoed in the cabin. Mac raised his face from her shoulder, a deep smile on his face.
"What's so funny, Brat?"
"I *leaked*--I read about that happening, but I didn't think it would--"
Mac ran a tongue over one of her still firm nipples, savoring the light sweet taste.
"No wonder it does a body good--" he teased. Rose snorted, lightly hitting his shoulder. He gingerly pulled away from her and glanced down at the residue of their coupling.
"Well if one of us is going to leak, better you than me--"
"Good point--" she agreed.
After disposing of the prophylactic, Mac climbed back into bed, pulling Rose into his arms. She snuggled down, grinning at him.
"Feel better?"
"Oh yeah--although resorting to a condom takes me back about a million years--I actually lost my virginity using one--" he admitted shyly. Rose smirked.
"College?"
"Nooooo--" Rose grinned broadly as he tried to look virtuous and failed miserably.
"Senior year?"
"Nope."
"Mac! Junior?"
"Sophomore summer. I was fifteen, she was eighteen and that's *all* you need to know."
"MacGyver! You can't just throw that out and not expect me to want to hear more!"
"Oh for Pete's sake, Brat--I was a six foot beanpole with about as much sexual appeal as a leftover school lunch. If I hadn't made the deal with Ginny Hadlock--"
"--So her name was Ginny," Rose pounced delighted on this tidbit, snuggling closer. "Redhead? Blonde?"
"Dishwater blonde," Mac admitted reluctantly. "Wore her hair straight and long--almost to the middle of her back. She was in Mission City Junior College."
"So what was she doing fooling around with *you*?"
"I'm sorry I ever brought this up--" he grumbled more out of embarrassment than anything else. Rose was propped up on one elbow looking down at him, a soft smile on her features. She gently kissed his forehead, whispering,
"Hey, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can drop it--I'm just a little curious about the woman I owe so much to, you know?"
Mac gave her a smile and slowly nodded.
"That would be Ginny all right--"
"--So she's going to need tutoring all the way up until the GED in September. I know it's a lot to ask, Mac, but you've been looking for one last scout community service project, and this would qualify--"
"Mom!" came the irritated growl, "I am *not* interested in wasting the end of my summer going over bonehead geometry to help some girl! I need a *real* project!"
"Mac, you're being selfish! It would be two afternoons a week at most, which would still leave you and Jack the majority of August to screw around. Honestly young man, I think you forget the world doesn't revolve around you!" Ellen MacGyver snapped back. She set the plate of scrambled eggs in front of her son with a thump. He drew in a breath and picked up his fork.
"Okay, okay--if Mr. Petersen says it qualifies I guess I'll do it--" he muttered between mouthfuls. Ellen set down a glass of orange juice and shook her head, wondering if her son's moodiness would ever pass. She studied him surreptitiously.
Four months into his fifteenth year, Mac had shot up and towered over her now, a gangly six feet with a strong set of shoulders. He still hadn't gotten a haircut, she noted, and the bangs were getting in his eyes, the thick brown-blonde locks shaggy and unkempt. As he wolfed down the eggs, she sighed. Lean and wiry, Mac practically lived in jeans, t-shirts and high top sneakers.
"Mom?" That voice, deeper now, so much like his father's--
Yes?"
"Sorry," His apology came easily; he batted his big brown eyes at her flirtatiously and Ellen laughed.
"I know that *look* Mister! What is it now?"
"Can I borrow five dollars? Jack and I want to go see the new John Wayne movie tonight--"
Ellen arched an eyebrow at her son; he finished the last of the orange juice and smiled winningly at her.
"So you'll tutor Ginny Hadlock starting this week?"
"Yeah--"
Tuesdays and Thursdays--By the second session, Mac was in serious pain. He tensed. Ginny was barely a foot away, and every nerve in his hormone-charged body was acutely aware of it. He shifted again, wondering how he was going to manage for another seventeen minutes.
"Maac?" came Ginny's soft Texas drawl, "Are y'all gonna explode or what?"
He looked up at her, eyes wide.
"Ummm, excuse me?"
"Well y'all are sittin thare tryn' ta tell me about lines and rays 'n stuff, but honest to Gawd, if you don't do sumthin about that hellacious boner you're packin we'll *never get through this page--" Ginny sighed.
Mac died. He knew it--all time had stopped, the world wasn't turning and obviously life had ended. Right about now a massive hole in the floor would be the best way to be buried--
Ginny leaned back, a small smile on her face as she studied him.
"Oh honey--believe me, I didn't mean it in a hurtful way--it's just real distracting for both of us. You run along to the john and take care a things while I go have a smoke, okay?"
She got up, fishing in her purse for her cigarettes and sauntered out of the bedroom, leaving Mac sitting there, catatonic with embarrassment.
Ginny Mae Hadlock. Eighteen, with green eyes, dishwater blonde hair and definite, definite curves. She had the soft drawl of a native Texan, the sweet scent of White Shoulders and all the mathematical intuition of a fish. Not that Mac himself could focus much on geometry--he was all too aware of the lush ripeness Ginny exuded, a natural perfume of womanhood in full, beckoning flower. He glanced down at his lap with an anguished moan.
Ten minutes later, Ginny returned, smiling.
"All better?"
Mac didn't meet her eyes; he slouched over the desk, his face bright red. Ginny bent closer.
"Hello? MacGyver, y'all in there?"
"Yeah--" he reluctantly admitted. Ginny gave a soft laugh.
"Oh come on, Mac! I'm really flattered that you think I'm pretty--"
"Ginny--" he mumbled, going one shade darker red. She lifted his chin in her hand and tried to get him to look at her, but Mac kept his eyes down.
"Sweetie . . ." came her soft voice. "Are you sure y'all gonna be okay?"
"Umm, yeah," he admitted, his eyes finally meeting hers for a long, still moment. She gave his chin a squeeze and let go reluctantly.
"All right then--" Both of them bent over the page once more, and for twenty minutes Mac patiently explained the basics of lines.
As Ginny packed up her books, she looked around Mac's bedroom carefully. The plane models hung from the ceiling. A poster of Bobbie Orr hung on one wall facing a poster of the Rolling Stones. Tucked in a corner was a heavy-duty chemistry set and assorted hockey equipment. Ginny grinned.
"Mac, how come y'all don't have any pictures of girls in here?"
"What?" Mac jumped, tearing his gaze from Ginny's rounded bottom. She looked over her shoulder at him.
"Girls--I *know* you like 'em."
"Uh--"
Ginny shifted her gaze. Walking over, she settled on the foot of his bed, flopping back on it with a sigh.
"So they're all in shoebox under the bed or tucked in the box spring--"
Mac gulped and she heard it. Rising up on her elbows, she flashed a smile at him, and Mac felt the swift return of a deep throbbing ache between his thighs.
"Stiff again, huh?" she chuckled. "Lord, you're hot to trot---"
Before he could do or say anything, Ginny quickly sat up and came back to him, her warm hands sliding up his jean-clad thighs to rub his bulging crotch. Mac gasped and tried to grab her wrists, but friction and frustration were faster; with a moaning shudder, Mac bucked and came. Ginny left her hands in place, clucking softly.
"Now I've gone and done it, huh? Well before you start wishing you were dead, and hoping this is all some sorta bad dream, hear me out, okay?"
Mac made no reply, his acute distress enough to make him hang his head. Ginny tugged his hair, hard.
"Ow!" he looked up, flushed and slightly angry, Ginny nodded, letting go.
"That's better. Okay MacGyver here's th' problem. I've got five weeks ta learn geometry. You're the best chance I've got at passing the GED. But if you're gonna be struggling with acute angles every time we get together, neither one of us is benefiting. With me so far, Amigo?"
Mac gave a crooked grin; Ginny's assessment was crude, but completely accurate. He nodded, wincing at the warm wetness seeping through his jeans.
"Mac, you're a virgin, right?" she demanded forthrightly. His brown eyes widened and for the sixth time in less than an hour he prayed for a swift death. Ginny snorted.
"Never mind, it's all over your cute lil face. Fine. You teach me geometry, I'll give you an August to remember--fair enough?"
"W-what?!?"
"Sorta an exchange of expertise, like. You know math, and I know sex. Could be a good deal for both of us--"
"Ginny! That's kind of *risky* doncha think? I mean, legally I'm a minor, not to *mention* my mom could walk in at anytime--" Ginny leaned down closer, brushing her soft mouth against his. Mac's entire lanky frame shuddered.
"---Oh we could find a few ways 'round those roadblocks, --" she murmured, her tongue sliding out to tickle his lower lip. Helplessly he gave a soft moan.
"--*Gin*-ny--!" he yelped softly. She slid a hand up his muscled thigh and laughed against his silky mouth.
"Up again? Damn! Looks like I've got my work cut out--Mac, trust me, this is gonna be the best way. We'll do one hour of geometry for me then one hour of Sex Ed for you, and *both* of us will end up with something we can use--is it a deal?"
Mac closed his eyes. A beautiful woman had her hand on his straining fly and was offering to placate his raging hormones for the next month in exchange for geometry--
He swallowed hard and nodded.
*** *** ***
Tuesday late morning. Ellen looked back at Mac, who was bouncing impatiently on the porch.
"We'll be fine--" he protested for the eighth time. Ellen sighed.
"I'll be back by three--and don't let the laundry sit too long in the washer, okay? And be nice to Ginny--"
"Yes ma'am," came his weak reply, but his mother was too distracted to notice. She gathered her purse and climbed into the car, waving briefly before driving off. Mac watched her go anxiously. As the car rounded the corner, he sagged against the screen door chewing his lip.
"Ginny we need to talk--" he told himself in a stern voice. "We can't just *do* things without, uh--"
"Mac?" he looked up to see Ginny Hadlock step onto the porch, books wrapped in one arm, a paper bag in her hand. She wore her hair loose, and her hip hugger bell-bottom jeans swished with every step. Ginny smiled knowingly.
"Looks like somebody's having second thoughts--" she announced. Mac ran a hand through his hair and let out a whoosh of air as he nodded. Ginny gave a little feminine shrug.
"So what's bugging you about it?" she asked, setting her stuff down.
"Everything!" Mac admitted with a rueful laugh. "I mean, you're really beautiful and all, b-but I just met you last week, and I don't know if it's such a good ideaaaaaaaahh--" he trailed off as Ginny stood before him, calmly unbuttoning her blouse. Panicking, Mac grabbed her arm and towed her into the house, the screen door slamming behind them.
"God Ginny *that* was stupid! The neighbors will have a heart attack!"
"Mac, give me your hand--" Ginny ordered in a semi-stern voice. Confused, he held out one big paw, and she took it, pressing his palm to the warm pliant heft of her breast just inside the loose fabric of her blouse. Mac twitched, and his fingers tightened convulsively on the incredibly soft skin. Ginny giggled, opening the blouse wide to reveal her braless chest.
"Geez, that shut *you* up in a hurry--" she teased, guiding his other hand up against a hard nipple. Mac was staring at his fingers in a daze. Sweat broke out on his upper lip. Ginny gave a happy little giggle and raised her arms, wrapping them around the back of her head. The sensual action lifted her chest under his hands and MacGyver broke out in a low moan. Ginny smiled.
"Now, while you're getting to know my big warm tits, tell me why you're having second thoughts about this Mac--"
"Huh?"
"That's what I thought--" she sighed with a soft laugh. "Here--" gently, Ginny cupped her hands over his, gliding them over the rounded contours and returning to the perky nipples. She shivered with pleasure.
"Got good hands, Mac--gentle baby--the lighter the touch the better."
"OhGod . . ." Mac squeaked, "GinnyI'mtouchingyourbreasts--"
"And doing a nice job of it too--Mmmmmm--" she purred, moving closer to him. With a strangled groan, Mac let her press up against him.
"Feel nice, don't they?"
Still in shock, Mac absently nodded. Ginny slid an arm around Mac's shoulders, pulling him closer; he protested a little since it distracted him from the exploring her chest, but undeterred, she whispered,
"Let's start with kissin' Mac. You know how to do that, doncha?"
He certainly did. Ginny was delighted to find that MacGyver was a talented natural, gifted of tongue and ruthlessly determined to use it. Gasping with delight, she broke away from his skilled maneuvers long enough to laugh softly.
"Oh my Gawd--you're damned good at this--"
"Yeah?" he blurted shyly, nibbling her neck. She pressed a hand to the back of his head, directing his face lower, down the rise of her collarbone. He shivered, but dutifully let his lips linger over her skin. Ginny pushed again, and suddenly Mac stiffened.
"Oh yeaaaaaaah, Mac--keep goin'"
He didn't need any further urging; with a delighted sigh he slid his hungry mouth down her breast, his shaggy hair tickling her. Ginny swayed against him with a pleased sound, her long blonde tresses rippling like a waterfall down her back. For a while they clung together and then Mac suddenly wrapped his arms around her, giving a pained sigh.
"Uh Ginny, I--"
"I know, I know--" she giggled, cradling his head against her bare chest. "Let's get you some clean underwear and get started on points and lines again--"
Reluctantly he let her go after another long wet kiss; Ginny began to button up her blouse quickly.
"Don't want any distractions, do we?"
"I *like* your distractions," he grinned, his dimples deepening. "You have fabulous distractions--"
"Well thank you kindly," she flushed, smiling. "I'll get set up at the kitchen table while you go change, okay?"
Mac flew up to his room and was down again within minutes, less mortified than he'd been the day before, but still blushing enough to make Ginny shake her head.
"Have a cookie, Hon, while I sharpen my pencil--" she directed, handing him the paper bag she'd brought. Mac wolfed down three snickerdoodles, opened the textbook and grinned.
*** *** ***
"--Therefore, the sum of the three angles in *any* triangle is going to equal--" " Mac prompted gently. Ginny furrowed her brow, pencil scratching over the paper.
"--One hundred and eighty," she announced brightly. "They'll always add up to one hundred and eighty degrees--all of 'em?"
"Every triangle."
"Even those big fat ones with the obtuse angles?"
"Even those--" Mac grinned, "It's a proven theorem."
Ginny stared at the paper wonderingly. Two weeks had passed since making their deal, and although their privacy had been limited, both of them put it to good use. Ginny was pleased to find Mac more than willing to hold up his end of the bargain; he was a patient geometry coach, leading her through the complicated world of proofs until things began to make sense.
Likewise, she managed to return the favor, letting him explore the lush contours of her chest, learn the sensual talents of touch and tongue to exposed flesh.
She checked her watch.
"Where's your momma, Mac?"
"Textbook committee meeting--they're going out to dinner afterwards," he tried not to grin, but it was hard, and even Ginny had trouble keeping a smirk of her own face.
"My, my--leaves a lot of time on your hands, doesn't it?" she murmured. He gently closed the geometry book and collected the papers, stacking them in a neat pile. Ginny shot him a speculative glance.
"*You* look pretty relaxed--"
"Sorta. I went ahead and, uhm kind of took the edge off before you showed up--" he admitted.
"Smart man," Ginny beamed. "Makes you a little less antsy." Mac rolled his eyes, but gave a shy nod. Ginny stood up and took his hand. With a few tugs, she led him upstairs to his room, gently closing the door behind the two of them. Mac watched her, his brown eyes huge in the fading daylight that came through his window.
"You and me know all the body parts--" she breathed. "How 'bout taking a peek at them up close?"
Without waiting for him to reply, she gracefully shucked her shirt and jeans off, kicking away her Doctor Scholls. Ginny fluttered her eyelashes at him.
"Your turn, MacGyver."
In a daze, he slowly pulled his t-shirt off, his thick hair fluffing as he did so. With trembling hands, he struggled with his jeans; Ginny took pity on him and helped tug them down, her warm hands gliding over his lean hips gently.
"Not bad . . . once you fill out a lil' bit you're gonna be quite a heartbreaker, babe--" she murmured sweetly. Mac drew in a shaky breath glancing down at his lank frame, chagrined at the defiant surge of his re-erected cock. Ginny purred.
"You come back from the dead more often than a zombie, Hon--honestly, doesn't that happy thing *ever* sleep?"
"Not lately--" he admitted with a rueful laugh, "Around you, maybe never again--"
"Come here--" she chuckled, patting the bed. Obediently Mac dropped his bare bottom on the edge of his quilt, eyes bright. Ginny leaned down and pushed his shoulders, making him lie back before scrambling up next to him. Mac reached for her, but she impatiently rapped his hand as she twisted on the quilt.
"Nuh uh, not yet. I bet you don't even have a rubber, do ya?"
"Ummm, no---" he admitted with a petulant thrust of his lower lip. Ginny shook her head in frustrated amusement.
"Sorry then, Hon--y'all gotta get Mr. Happy here a business suit."
"What?" his confused expression made her break out laughing. Ginny shifted again, turning herself around until she was stretched out facing his feet. Mac rolled to face her, astonished by the sight of her hips, her flat stomach, her--
"Yeah, I didn't think y'all ever seen anything like this yet--" she propped her head up on one arm and smiled down at him. Very gently, she reached over to take his hand, and pressed it lightly onto the soft fur covering her mound.
"Ohhhhhhh!" Mac shook visibly, and sensing a crisis, Ginny leaned over, slipping her tender mouth over him. Mac grunted, thrusting forward blindly, his chest heaving as he ejaculated. Ginny coughed, but with good grace managed to swig the better part of it all, wiping her lips with her forearm.
"Lord, Mac--are you *sure* this is the second time 'round? Mac? Mac?"
"Ohhhhhhh Godddddddddddd . . .. " came his dazed mumble. "I can't *believe* what I just did--"
"What *you* just did?" Ginny spluttered into a laugh. "Well thank you very much, Hon. I believe *I* was on the receiving end of that fire hose?"
"Ginny--!" Mac jacknifed to a sitting position, his face alarmed and frightened. "Oh God I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"
"No harm done, Sweetie," she assured him with an arched eyebrow. "But hopefully you ought to be a little more relaxed now--"
"Re-laxed?" came his perplexed wail. "Ginny, ummm, my body doesn't work that way--"
"Sure it does," she soothed. "Trust me, you can't possib--oh my Gawd. MacGyver!"
"*Told* you--" he whispered, cheeks flaming. Ginny threw her head back and laughed as her hands reached out to caress him once more.
"Tell y'all what--He's had a busy day--let's just ignore him for a while."
Mac absently nodded, his attention back on the charmingly erotic sight of Ginny's lower half only an arm's reach away. He shifted closer; rising up on one elbow and reaching out to gently touch her fur. Ginny rolled on her back obligingly, parting her thighs and watching him with a compassionate look.
"If the way to a man's heart his through his stomach, then the way to a girl's is right here, Mac--" she winked at him. He shot her a wary, bright-eyed look and Ginny nodded. Cautiously Mac leaned down, curiosity overcoming personal arousal for the moment, and touched her. She gave a sigh as his big hand slid teasingly over her, fingers fluttering against the petal soft folds of her flesh.
"Oh that's nice, Mac--" Ginny cooed as he leaned over her long thigh, stroking again, his digits tickling against the rosy skin. Ginny twitched as his thumb nudged the firm button of her femininity.
"Ooo--" She helplessly sighed. "Ah, yeah, that's *really* . . . nice--"
Intuitively Mac focused his caresses and was rewarded as Ginny moaned softly, her hips writhing a bit. He pressed a kiss to her thigh, shaking his bangs out of his eyes.
"Ginny, I want . . ." Unable to verbalize his desire, he kissed her thigh again, and she raised herself up enough to look at him with slightly glazed eyes.
"--Want it too--" she whispered thickly. Mac dropped his head, letting his warm lips play where his fingers had been. Ginny sucked in an excited breath.
"My--" She closed her eyes, yielding to his gentle licks until she could stand it no longer. Dropping her head back, she opened her mouth and gave a low cry of pleasure, her nude body shuddering against MacGyver's patchwork quilt.
When she lazily raised her head again, face flushed, she ran a hand over the sticky puddle between her shoulder and his hip.
"Lord, anybody else would be in a coma, Mac--I jest don't know how you do it!"
He smiled shyly, hands running over her legs in lazy patterns. They lay together on the bed in companionable silence for a while.
"Ginny?"
"Yeah?"
"Do all girls taste as good as you do?"
Pleased, Ginny used her toes to playfully tap Mac on the nose; he grinned, batting her foot away.
"I don't know, sugar, but it was sure a sweet thing to ask." Ginny shook her long hair out and sat up, sighing,
"It's getting' late and I've gotta go, Mac. Get yourself some Trojans, okay?"
Mac sat up, reaching for her, but Ginny shook her head sadly, picking up her clothes in efficient movements.
"Mac sweetie you are a darling boy, and both of us are havin' a good time, but don't think it's more than it is, please. We're not in love and we're not going to fall in love--okay?"
She was looking at him seriously, her green eyes focused on him with an intent expression that suddenly made the three year difference in their ages very obvious. He drew in a shaky breath and managed a nod as he climbed off the bed. Ginny took his hands and squeezed them tightly.
"Good. I'll see you on Tuesday then. I expect you to be prepared."
He nodded tightly.
***
"I dunno Mac--it's just not working--" Mournfully, a chubby, acne-faced Jack Dalton looked at the miniature ice rink on the table. MacGyver hid a grin and pretended to sigh.
"I know--I just can't get the vinyl floor to lie flat on Ice cubes, it's too lumpy. If I could freeze water it in long tubes and lay them side by side, then it might work--"
"You mean like rollers?"
"Yeah--" Mac squatted to eye level and studied the rink, shifting the goal net with a finger. The model rink looked perfect, right down to the tiny figures in the grandstand.
"Long even tubes of ice, just the width of the rink would be perfect--maybe some balloons--" he murmured, watching Jack out of the corner of his eye. Jack was fiddling with the tiny puck, scooting it over the vinyl hockey rink with a pudgy finger.
"Naw--the balloons won't fit--and even if you got them the right size you'd need about fifty of them--" he announced unhappily. "I'm not blowing all my money on balloons."
"We'd need something like them . . ." Mac ventured absently, waiting for Jack to figure it out. He did, right on cue.
"Oh Mac! Rubbers, man! It would only take about ten or so, and they'd stretch to the right length, and they'd be perfect!"
"Riiiight, Jack. And you and I are just gonna walk into Petersen's Pharmacy and pick up a box or two . . ." Mac scoffed, secretly pleased at his friend's enthusiasm. He let his face flush red. Jack's was just as pink.
"Not with old Mrs. Switzer at the counter, that's for sure--but if Mr. Kimball's there and we told him what we were doing, I bet he'd sell 'em to us. We could show him the rink, Mac--he'd be a pal, I *know* he would!"
"We could try--" Mac conceded. Part of him hated using Jack this way, but it was already Saturday, and time was short. He picked up the ice rink and studied it.
"Are you sure about this, Jack? I mean--"
"Oh come on," Dalton scoffed with a dazzling grin. "We're gonna have to buy them sometime, right? Kimball's gonna be a sport I can tell--"
Mr. Kimball was in fact a sport. Once the rink was presented and the plan was explained, he himself picked out the red and black boxes with perfect aplomb.
"I don't have to tell you two to keep this under your hat," he scolded with a smile. "Bad enough to sell a you three pack, but my Lord if word ever got out that I let you have two dozen I'd be out of a *job*--"
"Never fear," Jack assured him. "Once the rink is done we'll bring it on back so you see it, okay?"
With a ching of the cash register, the transaction was done. Mac felt every eye in Mission City on him as he and Jack walked home. The only comfort was that Dalton was just as paranoid as he was, cradling the bag to his chest.
"Geez, all we need now is to run into--"
"Mac!" the honk of a horn caught their attention and Ellen MacGyver leaned out the car window. Quickly, comically they passed the bag back and forth until Mac managed to hold it behind his back.
"Yeah mom?"
"I'm on a run to the grocery store--do you still need ice?"
"Ah no--we figured out how to get the rink to lie flat."
"Oh, all right. See you later--"
Jack and Mac burst out laughing as the car drove off.
*** *** ***
The soft scratch of the pencil was the only sound in the room. Mac checked the proofs again, well aware of Ginny pacing the room, and swallowed hard. The practice test had been one hundred questions, and he was nearly at the end of it-- With a sigh, he dropped the pencil and held up the paper.
"Done. You got a ninety-two, Ginny. Only missed eight, and most of those were just carelessness. Like this one--You KNOW the definition of a polygon--" he muttered, shaking his head. Ginny leaned over his shoulder, her lips moving as she reread the question. Downstairs the phone rang.
"Oh damn it was C. But a ninety two is still an A isn't it?"
"Sure is--you did it!" he grinned up at her, delighted in her broad smile of happiness. She took the paper and tossed it into the air like confetti, whooping with joy.
"Oh Mac! Once I get my GED I've got three more courses I can take at MCC, and then the counselor says with a few applications I might even get one of the grants--oh baby thank you so much--"
"It's okay," he beamed at her. For a long moment, he realized it truly was okay, and that even if nothing more happened with Ginny it would still have been worth it to see her elation in this moment. He dropped his gaze to the textbooks as Ginny laughed.
"Oh lord that's a weight off my mind! The test is Saturday, and I have to go in to the big hall to take it--"
"Excuse me--Mac?" his mother stood in the open doorway, her face concerned. Mac glanced up at her. Ginny slowly packed up the books.
"Yeah mom?"
"Hon, I just got a call from Jane Hoffman. She's broken her leg, and I have to pick her from the hospital because David's in Memphis this week."
"Oh--is she okay?"
"She sounded a little groggy, but I think she's going to be okay, " Ellen smiled. "With the three kids, she's going to need some help--I've got to stay with her and the brood tonight, and I should be back by lunch tomorrow. Are you going to be okay?"
"I'll be fine, mom,"
"Are you sure? Maybe I should take you with me--"
"Oh Miz MacGyver, I was just gonna treat Mac to an ice cream sundae at Petersen's for helping me pass the practice test!" Ginny broke in softly. "He's been such a sweet boy helping me like this--"
Ellen looked from Mac to Ginny for a moment, and then sighed.
"Okay, I'd hate to take you away from a reward like that--just make sure you lock up before you go to bed, and I'll call you at ten sharp to check in. And I *don't* want Jack spending the night--the last time--"
"--We cleaned the ceiling mom!" came Mac's grumble. Ellen grinned briefly.
"I still smell pancake batter when I change the bulb. Okay, I'm going and I'll see you tomorrow. Ginny, don't let him eat too much or he won't even touch the meatloaf I've left for his dinner."
They heard her go down the stairs and slowly, very slowly Ginny looked at Mac. His eyes were dark and wide, full of bright glints. Gently he took her hand and squeezed.
Everything from that moment seemed slow and deliberate and predestined. They walked to the drugstore, barely speaking, acutely aware of each other. They ordered sundaes, and Mac found he barely had an appetite; Ginny scooped up the small red maraschino from the top of his with a knowing wink and MacGyver blushed beet red as she devoured it with a quick slurp.
"Better go tap out before we start back--" she whispered, fishing for her wallet. He nodded, heading for the bathroom, his heart pounding. The sun was sinking low, giving a golden tinge to the buildings and crickets were just starting to chirp as they walked back. Mac's mouth was dry. Ginny spoke low.
"I gotta say goodbye to ya on the porch so your neighbors don't rat you out to your mom. Can you let me in the back door?"
He nodded.
She slipped into his arms, kissing him, and once that happened, Mac relaxed. She was warm and solid and sweet, with traces of vanilla in her tender mouth. Ginny sighed happily.
"Your room?"
"--Yeah." They climbed the stairs together as the first purple of summer twilight flowed over the lawns and the streetlights came on. Someone had a radio on, and Van Morrison was crooning about a Moondance when they finally reached Mac's room.
He knew her by touch; pulling her shirt off, undoing her jeans came easily to him, and Ginny drew in a pleased sigh as he slowly undressed her, kissing uncovered skin in a thoughtful manner.
"Oh *my*--" she teased, returning the favor with a trifle more impatience. Once his jeans lay on hers over the chair, she flashed a smile at him.
"Mmmmmm, don't you look good--"
He glanced down at himself, a small smile on his young face. Ginny gently ran a hand over the velvety length of him pressing between their bodies.
"God I think it *grew*."
"We've been giving the hydraulics a workout--" Mac admitted with a soft chuckle as his hands slipped around her hips. Ginny wriggled against him, and they fell back on the bed, making it creak. They burst out laughing.
"Come here--" Ginny giggled, cradling his face. She kissed him, slow and deep as he draped himself over her. A few kisses later she was humming happily. Their bodies were intertwined, and Mac was breathing hard in her ear. She whispered,
"Okay, we need--"
"Yeah--" reaching over, Mac fished under his pillow, coming up with a small foil packet. Ginny took it with a smile.
"Good boy--and that will be the *last*time anyone's gonna call you that--" she ripped it open with her teeth, and deftly rolled it on; Mac's lean stomach tightened as her caress slid down the length of him. She blew his bangs out of his face.
"Mac, Darlin'--" shifting, she tugged him down onto her, guiding him gently. "Push--"
A groan erupted out of him as he did so, a deep utterly pleasure soaked sound. Ginny gasped, her hips rising in lascivious response to his thrust. She clung to him, mouth against his ear.
"Oh yes, baby, that's sooo good--"
The bed creaked again in a rhythm punctuated by moans and panting that went on for a while. Ginny wrapped her legs around his hips, as lost in the warm erotic thrill of the moment as Mac was. She nibbled his earlobe, moaning,
"Ohhhh, Gawd Mac, I'm---" with a squeal she shuddered, clutching his back, nails raking his skin. Mac rose up on his forearms, shaggy head bowed as he grunted, his entire lean frame quivering with released tension. He collapsed on her, spent, stunned, speechless. Ginny sighed, gently stroking his hair. They said nothing for a while, and then she tapped his shoulder.
"I may have gotten a ninety two, but you get a one hundred, baby--"
"Oh God, Ginny--" impulsively, desperately he kissed her. She smiled against his mouth.
"Mac Hon, you gotta take the raincoat off, or you might leak--" she explained patiently.
"Oh!" He rolled off of her, fumbling in the dark; she gave a soft chuckle.
"Tie a knot on it and bury it deep in the trash--" Ginny advised. By the time Mac returned, she was already asleep, curled on her side and breathing softly. He stretched out next to her, a sense of protectiveness flooding him. Mac curled around her himself and drifted off.
Later, he awoke to feel Ginny's hands sliding over his chest. He pulled her over him, committing her sleek skin to memory, leaving nothing untouched, unkissed. Her long hair hung down in a curtain around their faces, striped with light from the streetlight outside. Ginny let him set the pace, taking her pleasure in the sight of his earnest face, the soft touch of his tongue between her thighs, the press of his teeth on her neck. This time was quiet and slow, tinged with a sad sweetness, an end of summer flavor.
Mac awoke alone. Early morning light shone into the room, and he muzzily rubbed his face.
"Ginny?"
"Mac babe--" she stood in the doorway, showered and dressed, a comb in her hand. He stood up awkward and gangly. She kissed his shoulder.
"Oh lord, you are such a Darlin' " she sighed. "I have to go, but I want you to know you're a good teacher and a good lover, MacGyver. I wanted to take the credit for that last part, but--" she trailed off. He cocked his head at her, a secret smile on his face as he pulled her into his arms. She kissed him thoroughly and rested her head on his shoulder.
"I know we probably aren't going to be together again--" Mac gulped, squeezing her, "--but I have something for you--" He opened the nightstand and fished out a little box. Curiously, Ginny took it, opening it up to see the bracelet, and laughed.
"MacGyver!"
Hanging on the silver links were a tiny protractor, a ruler and a compass. Ginny beamed at him as she put it on.
"This is gonna be my good luck charm, you know? Mac you are the sweetest man in the world, and honest to Gawd, you're gonna make women happy."
"Women?" he looked at her through his bangs, a hopeful expression on his face, and she laughed, brushing them back.
"Oh yes, baby--women."
"And that's how it happened," Mac murmured to Rose as she lay across his chest. She sighed, letting her fingers trail down his stomach. The gentle rocking of the Perfect and the soft sounds of the water outside filled the void.
"Did you ever see her after that?"
"Sure, but nothing physical--Ginny graduated and got into computers early on--I think she ended up on a design team with Apple. I guess the geometry paid off--"
"Hmmmm I guess so--and you *still* get a cute angle--"
"Rose!"' he laughed into her temple, "I'm not fifteen anymore--"
"Yeah, it took you almost twenty minutes to recover--" she teased, fingers curling around him.
"Oh just for that, *you* get to be on top this time--"
"Don't mind if I do--"
The candles burned low, and the night moved on in it's slow relentless pace.
END
