Bliss
By
The phone rang. Absently MacGyver reached for it, leaving the unassembled U
bend pipe on the floor and wiping his hands on his grimy tee shirt.
“Hello?”
He stared at the plumbing, wondering if Rose’s earring was EVER going to get unwedged. So far it had resisted the tweezers and drinking straws, but Mac was getting closer, he KNEW it.
“MacGyver, I--need your help—“ came Pete’s voice. Instead of his usual strong confident tones he sounded downright embarrassed. Mac cleared his throat as he sat up; well aware that ever since Pete’s glaucoma had gotten severe many everyday tasks had begun to slide by him. Although Pete was pragmatic about getting a housekeeper and giving up his driver’s license, there were still several little things that he was too embarrassed to ask anyone else for help with, things like laundry and reading labels.
“Pete—what’s up?”
“I need you to come over and help me with my—prescription,” Pete muttered. Mac picked up the U bend and shook it. He was rewarded with a tinkling sound as the crystal earring slid out. Mac pumped a fist in the air silently, delighted with this minor triumph over modern plumbing.
“Sure—give me an hour to shower and clean up—you need me to read the label?” he asked.
“No, not quite—listen, it’s a long story, and just make sure you bring some matches, okay?”
“Matches?”
But Pete had hung up without even saying goodbye. Mac pulled the phone away from his ear and blinked a bit, puzzled but certain that whatever it was, he could figure it out once he got to Pete’s.
“Rose? I GOT it,” he bellowed out to the living room of the Grotto. She yelled back.
“Thank you!”
“I have to go to Pete’s, but on the way home I’ll stop at the hardware store and get a screen cap for this drain!” he bellowed, unaware that Rose was now standing at his back. She slipped her arms around him from behind and he jumped.
“Don’t DO that!” came his halfhearted complaint as she giggled, burrowing her pointed nose between his shoulder blades.
“Ew, you’re all grungy and smelly!”
“Eau de Working Man—“ he grunted, wiping the pipe with a washcloth, “—rich in essence of accomplishment and pride—“
“--And sour drain. Mac darling, I love the way YOU smell, but NOT the way that shirt does.”
He scrunched up his face and handed her an earring.
“Okay, I admit it’s a bit on the pungent side—“ MacGyver admitted. Rose giggled.
“Completely—go wash!”
*** *** ***
Pete met him at the front door; Mac hadn’t seen him this tense in ages. Peering around he scanned the porch and sighed, beckoning him in.
“Looks clear, come on in—“
“You okay Pete?” Mac followed him in noting that all the curtains were drawn, darkening the living room. Pete waved to the table in the kitchen, slipping into a chair himself. Mac slowly sat down, eyeing the white paper bag on the table, the one Pete reached for and clutched.
“MacGyver, you know Doctor Wallis has me on a lot prescriptions. Eye drops, pills, some ointments—“ Pete began slowly.
“Pete, you have a serious medical condition, of COURSE you’re going to have more than a few prescriptions,” Mac soothed him, aware that Pete’s face was red. Embarrassment? His glance flicked to the bag, his curiosity kicking in.
“Yeah yeah. Anyway, Wallis also has me on the list for various study groups for new and experimental medication, and as of this afternoon, I’ve got a new prescription—but I’m not really sure how to take it.”
Gently he slid the white bag over to Mac, who opened it and peeked inside. He sniffed. His eyes went wide. He dropped both hands on the bag, flattening it and glared at Pete.
“Marijuana? You’re in a study group for medical MARIJUANA, Pete!?”
“MacGyver don’t take that tone with ME! Do you think I’M any more comfortable with the idea? Not only am I on the anti-drug counsel of the Foundation, I’ve also repeatedly helped the DEA and the local police in this city deal with marijuana problems!” Pete snapped back, his apple cheeks flushing.
Mac peeked in the bag again then dumped it out on the tabletop, watching as an opaque plastic box roughly the size and shape of a bar of soap slipped out, along with a packet of tissue and two pages stapled to a laminated card. Mac picked up the notes while Pete sighed.
“Wallis works with a pharmacology company that has a government grant to participate in clinical studies on marijuana as a legitimate treatment for optic nerve pressure and pain relief. I know studies like this are run with control groups and everything is coded to keep the results subjective, but I’ve got a nose—I can tell it’s the real thing, Mac.”
“Oh yeah—this is, if you’ll pardon the phrase, some heavy-duty shit, Pete,” Mac opened the box and sniffed cautiously, the heavy herbal scent rich and organic. Pete shrugged.
“Mac, I haven’t a clue how to—“
“--How to roll a joint?” Mac finished gently, a smirk crossing his face. An instant later his expression changed to one of suspicion, “What makes you think I do?”
“Come on Mac—“ Pete hedged, a little grin appearing on his face for the first time, “You’re young, and unorthodox, and a vegetarian for God’s sake—“
“Since when does liking TOFU equate to being knowledgeable about drug culture?” Mac groused, picking up the thin book of rolling papers and deftly tearing one off. Pete said nothing, but crossed his arms and pointedly stared at Mac’s hands. MacGyver sighed.
“Pete, it’s not that hard, and I’m not admitting to ANYTHING, but—“
“—You’re going to teach me to toke up,” Pete rubbed his face with one meaty hand, groaning. Mac picked up the note again.
“Look, according to these instructions you’re to take four inhalations an hour before bed for the next two weeks and record your level of pain on this chart. They’ve given you more than enough drug and paper to last for the fourteen days, so it’s not as if you need to buy anything. And rolling a joint is about as easy as it sounds—didn’t you used to smoke cigarettes way back when?”
“Nearly twenty years ago, Mac—the smoking part isn’t the problem, it’s the rolling part.”
“Why don’t I just roll all fourteen for you right now?” MacGyver offered logically, “That way you can just keep them in the box and not worry about it.”
“That’s a great idea!” Relief filled Pete’s voice, and he beamed. Mac sighed.
“Okay, get me your kitchen scale and a wet washcloth,” he instructed absently.
Twenty minutes later, Mac was just finishing the last joint, adding it to the
bundle that sat in the plastic box. Fascinated, Pete peered at them.
“Wow, you even got them all about the same size—“
“They each have about four ounces,” Mac told him slowly, “So they’ll be standard doses for you. We’ve got enough here for one extra, which should be your practice one since I’m willing to bet you have NO clue how to actually take a hit—“
“Sure I do!” Pete protested, leaning back in his chair, “You stick it in your mouth, light it and puff—what’s so hard about THAT?”
“Nothing. Except that’s wrong,” Mac shrugged, grinning so deeply his dimples showed. Pete scowled.
“I suppose you know the RIGHT way—“ he challenged. Mac had the grace to blush a little himself, but he took a deep breath and nodded.
“Everybody has their little rites of passage, Pete, you know that. Dares and challenges that make for those turning points in life, and let’s just say Minnesota didn’t offer a lot of challenges, but it DID offer a hell of a lot of opportunities. Drinking, sex, drugs, practical jokes—“ Mac smiled again, lost in memory.
“In that order?”
“Actually, yes—sometimes all in the same night.”
“MacGyver!” Pete shot an amused, slightly disbelieving look at him. Mac’s dark eyes twinkled back.
“Point being, I know how to use this stuff and I can teach you. Take the joint and light it. Hold it out where you can see it so you’re sure it’s lit before you try and draw on it—“ Mac instructed patiently. Pete’s stubby fingers picked up one of the joints and he did as he was told, bringing the match up to one of the pointed ends. With a little guidance he managed to light it and the smoke flowed up in a lazy dance towards the ceiling.
“Okay, now I just puff away?”
“Draw it into your lungs, nice and deep and hold it there a few seconds—“
“Great, trade glaucoma for lung cancer—“ Pete snorted, but he diligently tried.
He failed. Mac took the joint from him and slapped him on the back, waiting until he stopped coughing to speak again.
“It takes practice, Pete, gotta trust me on this. Try again.”
“YOU try it—this stuff is damned bitter and I don’t think it’s worth the effort,” Pete complained grumpily. Mac shook his head, shaggy blond hair catching the light.
“Come on Pete, slow and easy, like holding your breath underwater—“
So saying, Mac lightly demonstrated, pulling a light smooth toke on the joint, and holding the smoke, his eyes watering lightly as he did so. Pete was fascinated.
“You look constipated—“ he observed. Mac blew the breath out in one coughing whoosh, nearly dropping the joint as he laughed.
“Mac were you SUPPOSED to do that?” Pete asked after a moment. Mac shook his head in astonishment.
“Got—carried away,” he confessed, smoke still leaking out of his mouth in little wisps. Pete chuckled.
“So much for that squeaky clean image, MacGyver—your reputation just went up in smoke.”
“Give me a break, Pete, it was an accident!”
“You ‘accidentally’ toked up? There isn’t a jury in the world that would buy that line, Tofu Boy. Gimme that thing before you have another accident—“ Pete snorted, reaching for the joint. Mac relinquished it and waved a hand trying to disperse the smoke, which was thick and sweetly scented. He chewed his lower lip a moment.
“I don’t know where Wallis is getting this stuff, but it’s really strong. I’d bet it was from Southeast Asia, probably Vietnam.”
“Imported, huh? Wow, that BURNS—“ Pete sputtered, trying to hold in a lungful and coughing most of it up in little spurts like a toy train engine. The sight was enough to make Mac snicker. Pete scowled, and this time the smoke leaked from both nostrils. Mac watched this and started giggling.
“S-sorry, but you look just like that angry bull from the Bugs Bunny cartoon!” he announced. Pete looked down his nose, eyes crossing and blew harder; the smoke steamed out and MacGyver lost it completely.
He laughed, wiping his mouth with his hand, caught up in the bizarre sight of his conservative no nonsense boss chuffing smoke out of his small pug nose and trying to bellow like a wounded steer. Pete began laughing too, shaking so much that MacGyver very considerately took the smoldering joint from him to keep it from falling on the floor.
“Great! My damned NOSE is numb. I can’t feel it at all. Hey Mac, I could get it pierced now, get a nice gold ring and really LOOK like a bull.”
“Sure,” MacGyver cheerily agreed, “Helen would love it—very macho. But it would be MUCH better if I did it because the one in the cartoon is an Angus bull.”
“Yeah I could see that,” Pete mused, “You’re an Angus and you’re full of bull—“
Mac, who was right in the middle of an absent-minded hit gushed out a bray of laughter, more smoke gusting out across the kitchen table. Pete blearily shook his head in silent condemnation.
“Stealing a blind man’s medication—and I always thought you were a GOOD guy MacGyver!”
“Pete, did you know you look just like Porky Pig if he was a human?”
“What?”
“It’s true—if you ran around with just a jacket and bowtie and no pants on you’d be a dead RINGER for Porky Pig!” Mac insisted swaying slightly. Pete took another hit off the joint and considered it.
“Nah—the nose ring would be bad enough, but Helen REALLY doesn’t need to see me without pants—yet.”
*** *** ***
“Rose?”
“Um Hi Helen—“ Rose answered into the phone, wondering why Pete’s secretary was calling this late in the afternoon.
“We have a problem, sweetie. It seems that Pete’s on a new medication.”
“Mac went over to help him I guess—“ Rose agreed, wondering why Helen sounded as if she was about to laugh.
“Yes he sure did. Peter Thornton is part of a controlled study group for medicinal marijuana. The poor baby was clueless about how to use it, and Mac very considerately, ah, helped him.”
Rose dropped the receiver; Barnum came over and licked her bare knee as she fumbled to pick it up again.
“What?”
“Yes, Pete gave me a call and Rose, it’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time. The two of them are stoned to the gills watching the Three Stooges in Pete’s living room while I air the place out. I’m just about to toddle Mr. Pothead Thornton to bed, so I think you need to come get Mac.”
“Oh boy—“ Rose muttered weakly, "This is a problem—I’m hypersensitive to THC, Helen. You’ve got to convince Mac to take a shower and brush his teeth—I’ll bring over some clothes for him right away.”
Helen laughed again.
“So I get to play mommy to these two boys for a while—I should get overtime for this!”
“We’ll talk to Pete about it in the morning—on my way, Helen,” Rose replied worriedly.
When she pulled up to the house, Rose could see that the windows were all open. She parked the green truck behind the jeep in the driveway and drew a deep breath, trying to gear herself up to go inside. She finally climbed out and knocked on the door. Fortunately there was an early evening breeze, and Rose could only smell the very faintest traces of anything in the air as she knocked on the door.
Helen answered, her normally serene face slightly flushed, her eyes twinkling as she ushered Rose in.
“It’s mostly dissipated since I left the back door open. Mac’s in the guest shower right now,” she told Rose, who looked around. On the living room sofa, Pete was stretched out, making strange noises. Listening a second longer, Rose realized there were the same racecar engine sounds that Harry made when playing with his Matchbox cars. Helen hid a smile behind one hand.
“He’s watching Knight Rider on TV, I think—“
“Oy—“ Rose chortled. She knew the layout of Pete’s house well enough from his occasional parties, so it wasn’t hard to find Mac in the upstairs bathroom, standing in a towel. What WAS unusual was hearing him sing, in a semi tuneful manner as he looked at himself in the mirror.
“—It’s just a sprinkling for the Maaaay Queen—“ he rumbled almost to himself, and Rose bit back a chuckle; although he was bare-chested with long tousled blonde hair Mac wasn’t QUITE Robert Plant yet. Then he turned to smile at her and she bit her lips at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes.
“Hi Rose!”
“You certainly ARE—what on earth possessed you to get hands on with Pete’s, um, medication?”
“You know me—the hands are faster than the thought processees. Or is it processesessez--?” he trailed off, frowning. Rose took a step forward, sniffing cautiously. Although he seemed clean enough, faint traces of the sickly sweet odor lingered. She sighed.
“What you really mean is you got carried away and forgot that there were consequences for demonstrating your disreputable past, my love.”
“My disreputable past. I LOOOVVE the sound of that. Dis-repute-a-bull. Hey! Like the Bugs Bunny bull!” he snickered, blinking down at Rose. She handed him the folded jeans and Henley shirt, shaking her head again.
“Just like the Bugs Bunny bull,” she agreed, letting the comment go over her head.
Mac was amiable and co operative, following Rose out to the car and settling into the passenger seat in a loose-limbed sprawl. He was carrying his sneakers and tossed them over his shoulder into the back seat, then flexed his bare toes on the floor mat of the truck. Rose snickered, but he merely sighed happily.
“Gotta let my feet breathe once in a while, get in touch with nature’s elements—“
“A rubber floor mat is NOT a natural element, Mac Darling—“ Rose replied, putting the truck in gear and heading out on the street. Mac frowned at this, trying to concentrate as he stared down.
“It’s natural to the truck,” he decided with a little pout. For a while they said nothing; Rose kept an eye on him during the drive, laughing to herself as he stuck his hand out the window and bounced on the seat like a little kid. He was sunny; good-natured in a completely unguarded way, and it saddened Rose a little to think that it took something outside the norm to reveal that inner side.
“Hey Rose, did you ever see this one Bug bunny cartoon about bullfighting?” Mac burbled, drumming a little on the dashboard. She nodded.
“Oh yes—‘stop steaming up my TAIL!’” she quoted with amusement. Mac laughed, nodded.
“Yep! ‘Whatta maroon!’” He responded delightedly.
“It’s a classic—when he put together that last contraption he reminds me of you, Mac—sort of a Rube Goldberg bull eliminator you know?”
Mac shrugged, his mood shifting a little.
“Actually, I identify more with the bull. I mean, he’s got a job to do, and everyone expects him to just DO it and leave the fun stuff to Bugs, you know? When he got the shotgun on his horns, man, I was cheering.”
“Oh babe, come on! You’re much more like Bugs! Smart and witty and able to think your way out of traps—“
“Nah, I’m the bull—“ Mac insisted mournfully, his hands running through his nearly dry hair, “I charge in and do stuff and nobody thinks twice about it. And I’m an Angus TOO, but without the horns and nose ring. Hey Rose, do you think I ought to get a nose ring?”
Experimentally, Mac rubbed the cartilage between his nostrils, snorting a little. Rose shot him a slightly guarded look.
“A nose ring on YOU would be pretty wild, my love—you’d have me worrying about what OTHER kinks you have in mind. Are you hungry?”
“Yep, I’m hungry,” Mac nodded, cheerful again, “Hungry AND kinky. Maybe we ought to get food I can have sex with.”
“Mac!”
“Donuts and onion rings?” he teased, arching an eyebrow at Rose while she maneuvered the truck into the Meatless Marvin Drive Through. Rose burst out laughing.
“That’s not kinky, that’s just rude to the food, baby, now what do you want?” They pulled up to the speaker box and Rose unrolled the window.
“I want you to tie me down and sexually taunt me—“ Mac blurted. For a moment, both Rose and Mac froze. A tinny voice announced,
“I’m sorry sir, but that’s not really on our menu—would you like a nutty taco instead?”
“Uhhhhhhhh—“ Rose muttered, slightly stunned. Mac recovered first and leaned across her to yell out the window.
“From YOU, Marv, I want three nutty tacos and a pair of veggie burgers, your three bean salad, pint size, and two banana shakes.”
“Yes sir. Any tofu fries with that?”
“Yeah—“ Mac turned his face to Rose, his nose practically touching hers, his warm breath still faintly tinged with marijuana.
“You--you want me to tie you up and sexually torment you?” Rose repeated, astonished.
“Well I couldn’t really say ma’am, I guess it depends on what you look like—“ the speaker box squawked as Mac nodded, his gaze locked with hers.
“Yeah---“ he whispered softly, gulping a little. Rose blinked.
“Really?”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, Ma’am I’m not so shallow that you HAVE to be a complete babe, and we could always use a blindfold, but right now we need to wrap this order up. Anything else for you today?”
Mac barked a loud, “Nope that’ll do it Marv!” and clambered back into his seat, blushing. Rose took a moment to fish in her wallet, red in the face herself. They inched the truck up to the window. The clerk, a tall Latino boy with a goatee, smiled at Rose.
“No blindfold for sure! That will be fourteen eighty three and I get off work in three hours.”
“Ah—“ Rose handed over a twenty as Mac shook a finger at the boy.
“Sorry Marv, you go find your OWN dominatrix, this one’s taken.”
“Damn. In that case I better throw in some hot sauce and extra napkins—“ the clerk sighed.
Once Mac and Rose had the food and the change, they pulled out in traffic once more. Mac was eating and Rose was thinking.
“So what brought on this sudden urge to be submissive, Mac?”
He looked up from the bag, a smear of ranch dressing on his upper lip.
“The white flag. On the bull’s tail—it dawned on me that it must have been such a relief for him to give it up, you know? Just let somebody else do the driving and go for the ride.”
“You mean not having to be responsible for your own reactions and responses—give up accountability?”
“Completely,” Mac sighed. “I’ve been in charge of myself since I was eight years old, Rose—kept myself on a pretty straight and narrow path for a long time, puberty notwithstanding. I took my risks and paid for my choices and always always ALWAYS took responsibility for myself, you know?”
“I know,” Rose agreed softly, “but--?” she urged. Mac blushed a little and gave a slightly goofy grin.
“—But once in a while, every now and then I just-- want to BE the victim. Have you work your evil wiles on me, take me for my body and NOT my brains. Wanna bite?”
“No thanks—you have dressing on you chin—“
They pulled up at the Grotto and got out, Mac carrying his shoes and the bag of half-eaten food, humming to himself. He looked down into Lara’s startled face as he unlocked the door.
“Did I ever tell you that you’re the cutest mother in law in the world? No kidding Lara, you’re absolutely adorable!” Mac announced. Lara shifted Harry from one hip to the other and glanced curiously at her daughter, who rolled her eyes.
“Mac accidentally got stoned at Peter Thornton’s house, mama—LONG story, and not one I want to get into right now—“
“MacGyver’s buzzed?” Lara blurted, brown eyes wide with astonishment. She was unprepared for the slightly slobbery kiss Mac pressed to her cheek as he passed by her into the Grotto. Harry reached for his mother, cooing as she took him from Lara.
“I’m really glad you’re taking Harry for the weekend, Mama—I suspect Mac’s going to be very embarrassed by tomorrow.”
“Da—“ Lara agreed, wiping dressing from the kiss off of her face, “But that’s for you two to work out. In the meantime, Tavion, your father and I plan on taking Harry to the zoo and maybe the beach. We’ll try to bring him back by late Sunday, all right?”
“Perfect—Mrs. Oglethorpe will be back on Monday,” Rose commented. She helped her mother load up the diaper bag, suitcase and car seat while Mac finished off his impromptu meal and played with his son.
“Watch me Harry, I’m a BULL!” Mac giggled, waggling his index fingers along his temples. Harry laughed delightedly and tried to chase his father around the living room. Mac let his son catch him, and tumbling to the floor, let the two year old tug his hair and crow.
“Ow, Ow, okay Bugs enough already!” Mac scooped Harry up, handing him off to Lara after a few kisses.
“Okay, we’re off—and Mac, behave!” Lara chided with a wink.
End of Part one--
*** *** ***
Mac woke up with a slight groan. He had a mild headache and his mouth was as dry as beached driftwood. He lay on the bed for a while, just flexing his toes, thinking about the very recent past, and vowing never to let his hands get ahead of his brains again. Fortunately he hadn’t done anything publicly embarrassing, and—
Flashes of Meatless Marvin’s came to mind. He frowned. Something about Rose getting together with the clerk. And Bugs Bunny. Something very important about Bugs Bunny. With a sigh Mac rolled over and checked the clock on the nightstand. Nine forty in the morning.
“Morning. You need to rise and shine, Gorgeous—we’ve got some shopping to do,” Rose purred as she stepped out of the bathroom and into view. Mac drew in a sharp breath.
“Rose?”
“In the flesh,” she replied, sauntering over. Mac leaned over the side of the bed, nearly toppling out at the sight of Rose.
She wore a pair of black leather pants, tight and smooth; the sunlight gave them a dangerous sheen. The gauzy white blouse was reminiscent of a pirate’s shirt, fitted at the cuffs but tight across her generous chest. Through it Mac could faintly see that she was braless. He blinked and looked higher. Her long hair was unbound, and she had on huge silver hoop earrings. She waggled her fingers at him and Mac noted a silver ring on every one of them, thumb included.
“Ah my sweet Angus! You have seven minutes to shower and dress. Wear what I lay out for you on the bed and do be a good boy—“
“What?”
“Mac, you now have six minutes and fifty four seconds—I’d get moving if I were you—“ Rose warned sweetly. He stared for a few seconds longer and she sighed. Rose strode over and peeled back the sheet, leaving Mac uncovered. He curled up protectively, and Rose landed a light smack on his muscled rump, not really painful, but enough to make him jerk.
“Hey!”
“—Is for horses, my love. Listen carefully—you don’t have a choice, do you understand? I’m going to be leading you around by the ring in your nose today. No options. Get up and get showered—NOW!”
Mac locked glances with her and a fine quiver ran through his lanky frame. Very slowly he licked his lips, then threw himself out of bed and stalked off to the bathroom, leaving Rose to laugh quietly to herself.
Things were going very well indeed.
Within half an hour they were in the jeep, cruising down the highway, wind whipping
their hair. Mac was just on the right shade of mortified behind his sunglasses.
He looked down at himself, sighing. Rose had made him wear his oldest jeans,
the ones he kept meaning to throw out. They were tight, and so faded they were
almost white with rips on each knee. The jeans wouldn’t have been that bad if
she’d let him throw on a flannel shirt over them, but she hadn’t. Instead, Rose
had laid out a sleeveless black mesh muscle shirt. When he tried to protest,
she merely laid a hand on his mouth and shook her head.
“No choice, Mac. Just go for the ride today all right?”
And THAT brought it all back to him. He cursed himself for a fool, wishing he could retract what he’d told Rose, erase that discussion that had laid open his tiny personal weakness. God for YEARS he’d been keeping that secret desire locked away deep down inside and now here in the golden light of a Saturday, Rose was controlling as deftly and surely as if she’d been doing it for years.
He shifted uneasily; annoyed that she wouldn’t even let him drive. Rose reached over and patted his thigh.
“Did I tell you how much it turns me ON to boss you around, handsome? Ooooooh I got goose bumps here!” she chortled. Mac shot her a weak smile.
“Yeah I kind of figured that—“
“Shhhhhh, I’m cherishing the moment here—I have to tell you Mac that I’m really humbled that you’d let me do this for you, and I’m going to do the best job I can. Just leave everything to me, and this will be a completely mind-blowing Saturday for us, okay?”
He stared at her through the sunglasses and realized she was waiting for a reply, her grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled with anticipation. A sense of delicious ambiguity hit him, a dreamy moment of erotic power that left Mac weak for a second.
He could say no.
He could say no and she’d stop right here and now, they could go back to a nice ordinary Saturday with no fallout from his little faux pas at Pete’s. Go back to normal.
Instead, he found himself nodding, slowly.
Agreeing.
Rose shivered, and a small delighted smile slid over her face. One hand slid over to take his, to squeeze his fingers in gratitude and love.
“Thank you,” she said, simply.
The shop was a little storefront one, tucked between a clothing boutique and
a vitamin shop. Rose pulled up and parked in front of it. Mac looked up at the
sign.
“Gothique?” Mac winced. Rose parked her sunglasses on the top of her head and looked at the window displays with a deep interest.
“We need some accoutrements, Mac my love—nothing PERMANENT, so relax. Come along, darling—“
Mac followed her into the shop, biting his lip, but his fears were mildly alleviated when he went in. The shop was well lit, clean although the themes were a tad on the extreme side. Rose walked up to the counter and to the young girl at the counter.
“We’re interested in faux rings,” she announced confidently. The girl nodded, smiling as she pulled out a tray from under the counter.
“We’ve got fauxs for ears, lips, noses, cheeks, nipples and eyebrows—“ she recited pleasantly. Rose bent over the tray, looking intently at the selections on the velvet tray. Mac kept his sunglasses on, and fidgeted as he glanced down.
“Which ones are the nose rings?” Rose murmured.
The girl pointed at a row of thick gold and silver rings. Most were rounded and smooth, a few had engraving and designs on them; Rose gently touched a gold one.
“How much?”
“Thirty five. You know getting the real thing would be cheaper, Ma’am—only twenty five—“
“No thank you,” Rose announced firmly, “Nothing permanent.”
The next stop was at the boutique next door; Mac felt a tingle growing through his stomach, a tight throb of anticipation. Rose pawed through a display of silk scarves, choosing four red ones with black Chinese pictograph embroidery on them. Mac caught her glance, a worried question on his lips.
“You have to trust me, Mac—you’re just here for the ride, remember?”
“Rose, I’m getting a little—“
“—Nervous?” Rose turned to look up at him, her gaze steady and strong. Mac relaxed a bit at the serene look in her eyes.
“Mac, all I’m going to do is leave you no choice about giving into your desire. Let’s go with the flow.”
He drew in a deep breath and nodded.
“Now go sit on the hood of the car and wait for me.”
He wanted to protest, but closed his mouth and smirked instead, giddy for the moment. He went out to the curb and leaned back against the jeep, closing his eyes, trying not to think of anything. Go with the flow. Let someone else do the driving. Give in. Give up—A warm hand slid up his thigh; he opened his eyes to see Rose squeeze it lovingly.
“Behaving yourself? Good. Let’s go home and see what nasty things I can do to you, my darling Angus—“ came her husky tone.
*** *** ***
Mac groaned.
Rose looked down at her handiwork with intense personal satisfaction, pleased that a few hours of reading from the night before could result in such a nice tableau. She lit another candle and stepped back sighing happily.
“Delectable, Angus, completely delectable.”
Mac turned his head and glared at her, the candlelight winking on the flash of gold under his straight fine nose. She giggled.
“NO. I want to stop. NOW!”
“Nope. Too late. I gave you every chance, Angus baby, but now you’re mine, every eager hot inch of you, so be quiet or I’ll gag you as well, darling. It would be a pity for you to lose mouth privileges you know—“ Rose purred. She parked her hands on her hips and drank in the sight before her.
Mac was on the mattress, still dressed in his jeans, but bare-chested now, and stretched out spread eagle. The red scarves securely encircled his wrists and ankles, tying him to the posts on the head and footboards of the bed. Good firm slipknots that would hold, Rose knew. She stepped closer, licking her lips.
“Sorry, but right now you can’t do anything but submit.”
Rose reached out and flicked her finger on the small gold ring that rested on Mac’s upper lip, the ring that gleamed in the light.
“Sexy. Very kinky, Angus. A gold ring for my breeding stud. I can think of another place to put a big thick ring on you too—“
“Rose—“ It came out as a warning gasp; Mac narrowed his eyes at her as he tugged on his bonds. She shook her head.
“Un uh—you’re such a LIAR, Angus MacGyver. You tell me you want to stop, but that’s not what your body’s saying. I can see how fast your pulse is, baby. Your nipples are hard too, and you’re going crazy wondering what I’m going to DO to you,” Rose taunted gently. She sat on the edge of the mattress and ran a cool hand over the heated flesh of his nearest shoulder.
“A lot, Angus. I’m going to drive you out of your sane and rational mind. As long as I have you tied down on my bed you’re MINE, stud.”
“This is too much! No, I don’t think I can—“ he protested forcefully, eyes flashing.
“—Oh you can and you WILL. You know what to say to make me stop,” she reassured him in a softer voice, “You know the word.” Her hand stroked his forehead and the glance she shot him was tender. Mac swallowed and gave a short nod, aware that it was getting easier.
Giving in.
Rose let her hand slide down his chest to tweak a hard nipple.
“Excited boy, aren’t you? You sure like it when MINE are hard—“
Involuntarily his eyes flicked to her chest; Rose ran a hand over her breast in a soft caress over the thin fabric of her shirt, toying lightly. Mac stared.
“VERY nice—“ she teased. Leaning down, Rose flicked a tongue over his nipple, and Mac writhed at the heat of her mouth, slightly dizzy. Every sensation seemed magnified. Rose let her long hair tickle his chest.
“I read that the best way to domesticate a bull is through pleasure. So I need to find out what gives YOU pleasure, Angus,” she breathed, hands moving freely over his chest and stomach. Mac quivered as she stroked him, tugging against the scarves around his wrists. They tightened a bit. Rose slid a hand to the waistband of the ancient jeans; teasingly slipping a finger along the trail of fur that went under it. Mac lifted his head to watch her, his nose ring glittering again.
“You like this,” Came her satisfied accusation.
“---Yeah—“ he admitted in a tiny voice. Rose let a few more fingers slide under the waistband.
“I would LOVE to unbutton your jeans, Angus, and see exactly what MAKES you a bull—“ Rose sighed. Mac drew in a sharp breath, his thighs flexing in hard reaction to her words. Sweat popped out on his forehead.
“Ummmm—“
“You’re all tied up, baby. I don’t trust a wild animal like you not to try and take charge again. What I DO want to see what’s so big and hard in your pants, I really do—“ so saying, Rose dropped her mouth on the thick ridge rising along the fly of Mac’s jeans. She blew a hot moist breath through the demin and Mac let out a low groan.
“Ooooh God!”
“Want me to get into your pants, Angus?”
“Yeah. Ooooh yeah—“ he rumbled, slightly dazed, feeling sweat along the small of his back against the sheet. Rose laughed low in her throat. Delicately, one button at a time she undid his fly, avoiding the heated flesh of his suddenly freed erection, which rose up from its previous confinement.
The phone rang; with one hand Rose lazily reached for it from the nightstand, with the other she lightly stroked the hot suede of Mac’s cock with her fingertips, barely touching it.
“Hello?” she managed sweetly. Mac squirmed, trying to shift away from her, but Rose was relentless and teasingly gentle, “Oh hi Pete. Mac’s a little tied up, but he can talk—hold on—“
She set the phone between Mac’s shoulder and ear and turned back to his jeans, waiting.
“Hi Pete—listen, Can I call--?” he began in a voice striving hard for normal and not quite making it. Rose pressed little kisses on his bare stomach, feeling the heat of his cock against her shirt. He gurgled a bit.
”—Uh, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize—ahhh—“ Mac barked, a bit breathlessly. Rose was fishing in his front pocket, her groping decidedly blatant as she slowly withdrew the Swiss Army knife. She bent down and lightly licked Mac’s straining erection, one long quick stroke, making him hiss with pleasure into the receiver.
“No! Noooo I’m fine. Listen Pete, I REALLY c-can’t talk—now—“ Mac desperately pleaded, tugging at his bonds and shooting Rose a wild-eyed stare as she slowly opened the biggest blade.
“Let’s get a MUCH better look at you, stud—“ she cooed in a very soft voice. Next to his ear, the phone continued to squawk, but Mac bare registered it.
Rose slid the blade up under the bottom cuff of his jeans and the ancient material parted with almost no resistance. With a gentle sawing motion she cut through the denim all the way up to the top of the jeans, moving with a careful sensuality. She repeated it on the other leg, and then tugged at the cloth.
“Say goodbye—“ she breathed as she caressed his bare thigh. Mac shivered again, nodding. Through his mind ran an insane stream of consciousness—
//Sorry Pete gotta go—Rose has me tied to the bed and is cutting my pants off oh and by the way my dick’s hard enough to puncture steel plating--//
“ListenPeteGottagoBYE!” he groaned into the phone. Rose reached up and closed it, tossing it to the floor.
“You look so incredible right now!” Rose bit back a naughty giggle, pulling the denim away from his skin, baring his hips and thighs, “definitely mad as a bull. If I didn’t know better I’d be scared.”
“Damn it, stop messing aroundmmmmfff—“ his complaint was cut off by Rose’s wet kiss and Mac sank into the sensation, sucking in her tongue eagerly, savoring the heat that coiled low in his stomach and throbbed through his cock.
“Mmmmmmmyes!” Rose broke away wetly to gasp, “Your mouth tastes good, Angus baby. Does the rest of you?”
“R-Rose—“ Mac managed tightly. He looked down the length of his body, trying to accept what he was seeing, and not quite making it, this surreal intensely erotic tableau. Rose locked her eyes with his, licking her lower lip, making it shine as she drew in a shuddery breath.
“Say the word if you want it to stop—“ she reminded him softly. MacGyver shook his head; something loosened in his chest and he almost laughed as the giddy sensation flowed through him. The sudden freedom of the moment despite his bonds.
Giving in.
“WANT you—“ he warned huskily, flexing his hips, dark eyes glittering. The smile that crossed Rose’s face was both relieved and heated; she understood.
“Good. It’s good to WANT, Mac. In fact, you’re gonna want a lot MORE—“ came her soft taunt. With deliberation she stepped away from the bed and began to peel off her shirt, tossing it away with sensual finesse. Mac felt his pulse shift into overdrive, and he relaxed just enough to revel in the influx of sensations stampeding for his attention throughout his body. Rose slowly sauntered back, topless now, the leather pants molding to her tightly.
“Like what you see?” she purred, hands on her hips, thrusting her big bare chest forward. Mac arched his chin up, unable to stop himself from gasping a little.
“I THINK you know the answer to THAT—“ he managed tightly, but Rose laughed anyway. Languidly she ran her hands over her breasts, toying with them a moment before coming back over to the bed. Gently but efficiently she climbed over him, resting on her hands and knees over his supine form, her body forming a bridge over his as she faced his feet.
“If you can get my zipper down with your teeth, I’ll be very impressed, Angus my love,” she mocked, her knees moving out to press against his bare shoulders.
“WHEN I get your zipper down—“ he corrected her, drinking in the soft scent of warm leather and sweet feminine arousal. Rose pressed her face to his abdomen, licking lightly. Gently she toyed with the little strap hidden in the palm of her hand.
“Isn’t going to happen my frustrated Angus, oh no. I get to do whatever I want and you have no say—“ she reminded him, and slowly took his hard hot length into her mouth.
Mac’s stomach tightened, the slab of muscle reacting instantly to her blatantly erotic action, and he strained against the scarves, his mind blank even as his body surged up. Rose gripped his hips and held herself over him, dipping her mouth in a slow, teasing fashion.
“Gahhhhhhhhhhh . . .”
Mac couldn’t think, couldn’t get anything out beyond a strangled groan. Then Rose hummed, and the hot vibration of her lips went beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. Instantly his nipples riveted up and his mouth went dry.
“Oooohhhhhhhhhhh!” A note of desperation in his voice reached her; Rose slowed down, pulling her lips away in a wet teasing fashion.
“No, noooo don’t STOP damn it!” Mac hissed, trying to thrust his hips up, not wanting to lose the hot luscious kiss of Rose’s mouth. She blew a little puff of air over the wet raspberry head and he grunted.
“You wanted the torture, stud—“
“Ngghhhhhh!” his growl of thwarted passion sent a frisson through Rose and she moved quickly. With one hand she flicked the leather band around the base of Mac’s shaft, fastening it snugly with the Velcro fastenings. Startled, his entire body twitched.
“WHAT THE—?”
“Just taking the bull by the horn—“ Rose breathlessly muttered. She reluctantly climbed off of him and stood looking at her handiwork.
“YOU--YOU—“ Mac was too astonished to get any coherent statement out. Things like this just didn’t happen to him. He didn’t GET stripped. Trussed up. Driven to the molten edge of orgasm only to be yanked back by a hot-eyed wild woman in leather pants---
Rose slid out of her trousers and shuddered, squealing happily.
“I always wanted to ride a bull—“
Mac bit his lower lip hard enough to leave teethmarks as Rose shimmied her way into position, tilting her hips and guiding his weeping shaft between her thighs. Her eyes glittered, and she pressed her hands flat on his chest as her thighs held her poised over him, quivering.
“Oh it’s all about ME right now—“ came her grateful moan as she lasciviously lowered herself onto him. Mac’s neck arched up as his head tipped back; he grunted, deeply, a hoarse pleasured sound.
“Fuuuuu!--“ he never got to finish as Rose pressed a damp palm over his mouth and began to steadily pump her hips. Sweat rolled down her cheek as she sleekly worked herself on him, her long hair swaying with every stroke.
“Watch me, watch me—“ Rose ordered urgently. Mac did, unable to pull away from the searingly erotic vision of her astride his hips, face flushed, body straining with pleasure. Mac flexed his muscles, pushing up hard into the maddeningly sweet depths of her, giving in, oh yes, giving IN and in a way she was NEVER going to forget—
Finally, Rose gasped and reached down between their pounding bodies, yanking the strap off as her rhythm increased, the tempo hard and relentless. MacGyver groaned as the raw heat held back for so long now flooded through the length of his enraged cock.
Then Rose gasped, sucking in a sharp breath as her entire body convulsed, tightening around him with pulsing intensity. She writhed, and Mac surged up, white flashes going off behind his eyes as he erupted deep within her, his hard body lifting them both off the bed.
*** *** ***
“Rose, I—“
“Shhhhh,” she murmured, snuggling up to him, burrowing warmly into his side. Mac studied the ceiling, wondering how he was ever going to look her in the face again. She lightly kissed his temple.
“Don’t think about it too much—“ she advised. Startled, He shot a sidelong glance at her, and Rose wriggled her nose at him. Her post coital glow was sweetly evident in the satisfaction of her smile.
“But I don’t know WHAT to think—“ he confessed in a low intense tone, “I mean that was so—geez, sooooo—“
“--NOT you? Yeah, I know. You’re MacGyver. Man of a thousand escapes and plans, master of the improv, the last person to ever be a victim. But you know what? I love knowing that deep inside you’re willing to let me draw on that untapped passion. You may be Bugs ninety nine percent of the time, but I could get to LIKE the Angus in you too.”
Mac sighed. He drew in a slightly shaky breath and a slow smile spread on his face.
“Did I ever tell you about my nude hockey fantasy?” he slowly began.
END