Rose and Cream

By

Cincoflex@aol.com

“You’re being stubborn and unfair.”

“Brat, it’s not that easy. I’m bigger and stronger—I don’t want to hurt you—that’s NOT a turn-on!”

“I agree. But this ISN’T about pain, it’s about passion, Mac. You’ve done the reading, you know the framework. All I’m asking is for my fair turn.”

“You’ve got to give me some time, okay babe? This whole role-playing scenario is still new, and swatting your rump is kind of hard to think about—“

“Hmmmmph.”

The weeks stretched into months, and Mac ruefully realized that although Rose still loved him, she seemed to be a bit more withdrawn, a little preoccupied. He knew her well enough to sense her disappointment in him, and it rankled to let her down. Be Mac thought about marring the sweet rounded perfection of her bottom, he winced, hearing stern echoes of his mother’s voice.

//NEVER hit a girl, Mac—only insecure men resort to violence!//

As much as he intrinsically understood this wasn’t violence, it still was difficult to reconcile spanking with his inner nature and forthright upbringing.

Things had been out of sorts all week: Pete had been merciless about assignments, so Mac had been running around the country nonstop. Rose was tied up with a pair new sea turtles that had been given to the marine labs, and was barely home most evenings. When they did cross paths, it was to fall asleep in each other’s arms, too exhausted to do more than murmur. Mac was getting restless.

A lot of it had to do with acclimation. Certain incredible things were habit-forming, like hugs and kisses, and . . . Mac frowned to himself. Maybe they were more than habit-forming, more in the highly addictive category. His body had certain cravings now, expectations and desires that were used to being met in heart-stoppingly good ways, slippery, warm satiating ways. Proximity wasn’t enough, and wonderful as it was to drift off in Rose’s arms, there were other aspects of her anatomy taunting his mind and body.

It was with this thought that he grinned, watching her dab perfume on as she leaned over the bathroom counter at the houseboat, wrapped only in a towel.

“Wow, do I smell Coeur du Rose?” he murmured seductively, stepping up behind her and leaning against that tempting spine in an unmistakable way. Rose tried to frown, but her backside wiggled against him happily.

“Yes—I’ve got a lunch date,” she replied in a distracted tone. Mac leaned more heavily, pinning her down, nuzzling her hair. Parts of him were VERY happy to be rubbing up against Rose now.

“Really? Where are we going?” He murmured, wishing they weren’t already late for work. The bed was still unmade, and the urge to scoop Rose up, toss her on it and completely have his way with her was growing stronger. She looked over her shoulder at him.

“I don’t know where YOU’RE going, but Ramon Munoz and I are having a picnic on the Patio—“

“Munoz?” Mac snapped, halting in mid-grind. Rose nodded. He shot her a look in the mirror, but she ignored it, deftly applying a soft shade of frosted pink lipstick.

“Yup. Called out of the blue, hinted about funding a new project in honor of his late father. Wanted to discuss it on his yacht, but I talked him into a catered lunch at the Foundation.”

“And--you’re going?” this still seemed incomprehensible to Mac; his brows drew together. Rose ducked under his arm and moved into the bedroom for the closet.

“Of course I am—you know how important it is to get sponsors, and Ramon’s loaded. If I can get part of that money for the Marine Studies department—“

Rose struggled her way into a dress while Mac gripped the bathroom counter and felt a little growl start at the back of his throat.

“Not that dress . . .” he choked, trying to sound reasonable and failing completely. Rose shot him an impatient amused look.

“Sorry, where you planning to wear it today?” came her tease. She tugged it in place, smoothing it down.

“No, but—um?” desperately Mac picked up her brassiere and held it out to her; Rose shook her head.

“No, the straps will show and look tacky—“ she argued, “Better to go unrestrained—Ramon will never notice.”

Mac doubted that with every fiber of his being; Rose unbound was a hell of a show, and certainly not one he wanted to share with the Foundation in general, or Ramon Munoz in particular. His frown deepened. Rose bent down to slip on her sandals, humming to herself.

“Oh come on, Mac, it’s for the good of the department, okay? Ramon and I are a thing of the past. We’ll do lunch and schmooze and he’ll get all hot and bothered about having a Parrotfish exhibit named for his father, okay?” she reassured, fluffing her hair. Mac said nothing.

The dress in question was a lovely floaty thing, a sheer white gauze with prints of pink roses on it. Against Rose’s tanned skin it looked both innocent and seductive, almost more of a veil than a full fabric. It had a knee length hem, but the material was so light that the slightest breeze sent it fluttering. It was sleeveless and well fitted in the bodice; her high full breasts pressed against the fabric, nipples dimly visible under the pattern. Mac stared helplessly.

“Oooo, panties, nearly forgot—don’t want to flash everybody if it’s a windy day—“ Rose chirped, fishing in the top drawer as the man behind her convulsively gripped the doorframe and bit back a pained grunt. Rose slid the baby pink satin thong up her sleek bare legs, oblivious to Mac’s stunned gaze, tugging them in place with a happy pat.

“There, all decent—“

Mac knew otherwise, his cock throbbing painfully against his fly as he watched her bounce past, literally. Part of him wanted to grab her, but his surprise and innate good manners left him standing there as she blew him a kiss and headed down the spiral staircase for the door downstairs.

He bit his lip. Hard.

*** *** ***

“And there he goes again—“ Trevor muttered, “Rose, what on earth is going on with MacGyver? That’s the fourth time he’s passed by the labs.” The older man’s British accent held a hint of reproach, and Rose snorted.

“He’s a little put out that I’m having lunch with Ramon “moneybags” Munoz this afternoon, apparently.”

“Ahhhh—and of course, your attire was completely coincidental to all of this,” he teased, watching her rise from her desk and stretch. It was a lovely sight, particularly with the sunlight streaming in behind her.

“Of course. Have to play to Ramon’s baser nature.”

“What about MacGyvers?”

“He hasn’t got one—“ Rose didn’t mean to grumble, but Trevor flashed her an insightful smile, patting her shoulder.

“—Oh yes he does. Trust me, Rose; even I have a baser nature. If I was thirty years younger, MacGyver would have some real competition—“

“Trevor you rogue—“ she teased gently, flashing a smile up him. He shrugged gallantly and handed her a report on red tide from Paraguay.

“—Leave this old man his little dreams. I’ll field off the lad but you’re on your own for lunch.”

“I think,” Rose smiled with a hint of naughtiness, “I can manage that.”

Ramon swung into the building with his usual flamboyant fashion, his entourage of secretary, bodyguard and chauffeur trailing in his wake. He was as lean and angular as Rose remembered, his Brazilian good looks still striking. She watched him saunter down the hall towards her, his dark eyes completely focused on her welcoming smile.

“Rose, my angel of the sea, how have you been you gorgeous thing you! Oh why did we ever let so much time pass?” he exclaimed playfully, taking her hands and kissing her on the corner of her mouth with enthusiasm. Rose could smell his expensive aftershave and grimaced inwardly at the overload, but she smiled at him sweetly.

“Ramon, you’re looking well,” she told him in all honesty. He did look good in his beige linen suit and fuchsia shirt. His long wavy ponytail curled over one shoulder, and his chocolate tie had a small diamond pin. The other three people stood around politely while Rose and Ramon stood beaming at each other.

“Still so . . . perfectly red, Bambina, “ Ramon sighed, touching a strand of hair on her shoulder. Rose nodded, pulling back quickly when she caught sight of Mac out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh yes, can’t get away from it—heredity you know,” she murmured with a little laugh. Taking his arm, she led the way down to the marine labs, passing by the front desk where Mac and Gina the receptionist watched them go by.

“Oh my Gawd, isn’t that her old Romeo?” Gina gawked, her thick New York accent loud even in the lobby. Mac shot her a pained look.

“Oh you remembah, Mac—the one Rose said had hands like an octopus?”

“That cold and clammy?” MacGyver hoped through gritted teeth.

“That many—she swore he usta pinch her butt so much she hadda eat standing up—Mac? Mac where ya going?”

The lunch itself was delightful. Ramon’s entourage took a table on the far side of the patio, leaving their boss and Rose the choice one near the balcony overlooking the park. All the food was cold and savory: chilled salmon, aspic, salads and fresh bread. The day was warm, but even so, Rose felt her nipples harden as she ate the cold food. Ramon noticed them too to her annoyance; his admiring glances at her chest were as blatant as ever. While they chatted about the Foundation Ramon was quick to slip in questions of a far more personal nature into the conversation.

“Seeing anyone? Or more importantly, is anyone seeing you, Bambina?” he asked, arching an elegant dark eyebrow at her.

“Oh, um yes, I’ve gotten close to someone . . . sort of—“ she amended carefully, shifting so that her profile was to the big glass window. Part of her was dimly aware that Mac was probably there, but she didn’t want to confront him just yet, so she leaned closer to Ramon, smiling.

“—But he’s busy at the moment. And you, Ramon? Didn’t I read that you and Lola Fargo were an item?”

“Lola,” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “She may be a redhead but the woman clings like a burr!” off he went on an amusing tirade against the starlet, waving his arms and laughing. Rose nodded, smiling the entire time. She pointedly ignored the window, keeping her focus on the man opposite her.

Mac was uncomfortable. He bounced on his heels, hands shoved deep in his pockets, restless, annoyed and unsure of his next move. It didn’t help that Ramon the Romeo was still as handsome and smooth as he’d ever been—Mac had secretly hoped the man had developed a paunch or a bald spot since the last time he’d been to the Foundation, but no, the Brazilian bastard was still poster boy for Rio—aghast at his own vitriol, Mac gritted his teeth.

It wasn’t Ramon’s fault he was a witless airhead prettyboy. Anyone with an ounce of testosterone would be after Rose today; in fact as far as Mac could see, everyone with testosterone WAS after Rose---even the waiters were beaming at her in that peek down your cleavage fashion—

“Mac, are you all right?” Pete, who had been passing by shifted to come and stand by the younger man. Mac pulled his gaze from the window, forcing a smile.

“Pete, yeah, I’m good—“

“Whoa! That dress ought to be illegal!” Pete enthused, catching sight of Rose on the terrace and stepping closer to the glass. MacGyver gave a pained twitch, letting his forehead hit the window frame. Pete shot him a curious look.

“Isn’t that Ramon Munoz? I thought Rose stopped seeing him?”

“She did. He’s here to discussing funding a project in his dad’s name—“ Mac snapped. Pete gave a cynical shrug.

“Pretty cozy for a business lunch if you ask me—“

“I didn’t, Pete—“

Pete glanced up at Mac’s expression and broke into a broad grin.

“You’re jealous,” he declared flatly.

“Me?” Mac tried to shrug it off, but Pete, who had latched onto this insight, kept grinning.

“You, MacGyver. I mean, why else would you be loitering in the hall glaring out the window? And don’t tell me it’s because you’ve taken up pigeon watching!”

“Pete you’ve got it all wrong. It’s just that Rose can be a little naïve, and I don’t want someone like Ramon to take advantage of her, that’s all,” he declared desperately.

“Riiiiiight.” Pete scoffed, chuckling, ”And the fact that she looks absolutely gorgeous at the moment has nothing to do with it.”

“No. I mean yes!” Mac stammered, running a hand through his hair. Pete patted his shoulder in mock sympathy.

“Well I’ll just leave you to your noble intentions then— wow, did he just grab her knee?”

Mac’s face swung back to the window at blinding speed, and Pete burst out laughing.

“You’ve got it bad, MacGyver—“ he rumbled, striding off, leaving Mac to glower against the glass.

“—But the paternity test came back negative, so I am in the clear,” Ramon smiled, pushing away his plate. Rose shook her head.

“—This time,” she waggled a finger at him playfully. “I don’t see how you keep getting away with it, Ramon. Sooner or later one of them is going to snare you.”

“Let them try—I love the attempts!” he admitted. Smoothly he reached for her hand, taking it in his, caressing it.

“I have missed you, Bambina with the brains. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take a drive with me?” His eyes flashed, and his warm charm washed over her. She blushed.

“Ramon, put me in you past, honey. My heart isn’t mine to give away anymore,” she admitted. Ramon nodded.

“I knew it,” he admitted. “The satisfied sway of the hips—you’ve found the one for you—the same one staring at us through the window, si?”

Rose didn’t look over, but nodded.

“Si.”

“You are making him jealous? Goading his passion?”

“Si.”

“Naughty girl. Let me help—“ Ramon chuckled. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it lingeringly. Rose risked a quick peek at the window, looking away after a second.

Oh yes, that was quite a reaction; she could hear the thump against the glass all the way across the patio. She slowly pulled her fingers from Ramon’s grip and murmured,

“Let’s go to my office and see what sort of project you’d like to fund, all right?”

“But of course, Bambina—“ he smirked happily. They got up from the table, still chatting quietly.

“You are teasing him, making him very jealous?” Ramon probed? Rose nodded, reaching out to touch his tie.

“He needs to be reminded that I still have eyes for a handsome man,” she flattered Ramon with a wink. He preened, nodded.

“Your taste is still good—“ they pushed through the glass doors together, the entourage a few steps behind the two of them.

Rose looked up to see Mac trying very hard to smile; it was laughable to see him strain for a grin that usually came so easily.

“Oh Mister MacGee, nice to see you again—“ Ramon waved airily, slipping an arm around Rose. Mac took a step forward, but the bodyguard cleared his throat warningly.

“MacGyver, actually,” Rose corrected Ramon, who shrugged.

“The handyman, is he not? The one with the little boy knife?”

“Mac has a way of using his tool that I admire greatly, Ramon. He’s very—skilled with it,” she blushed. Mac blushed too, his ego momentarily boosted. Ramon looked at his watch.

“Yes well how interesting. Rose, mi Bambina, let us go to that cozy office of yours and see what mischief we can make, Hmmm?”

As they strode away, Mac watched their backs, scowling.

*** *** ***

“Here’s that apple juice you asked fah, MacGyvah—“ Gina handed him the bottle. Mac looked up from his computer screen briefly.

“Thanks Gina.”

“No prob. You okay?”

“I’ll be all right—“ he lied, typing with a vengeance, “Just thought I’d clear out this paperwork—“

“Yeah,” Gina nodded, a small smile on her face. “I can tell you’re just thrilled with it.”

“Gotta clear the desktop off once in a while—“ Mac muttered. Gina moved to the doorway and looked back.

“Whateveh—but I thought you awtta know Rose and that Latin Playboy are making with the goodbyes up all ovah my front desk. I think she’s gonna need a ride home.”

When Mac shot out of the elevator, he glanced over at the information desk and for a second his vision went red.

“What the hell are you doing!” he bellowed, storming over. Rose went wide-eyed, but managed a sickly smile; Ramon turned an expression of bewildered innocence on Mac.

“She slipped and fell on the marble floor, and her poor knee bumped the ground. I was merely kissing it better—“

Rose gave a squeak and a nod, adding,

“It’s okay, Mac, he just picked me up and was looking my leg over to see that it was okay—“

“—Not okay,” Mac growled. He flashed Ramon a dangerous smile, and took his hand, pumping it hard.

“Ramon, thanks for stopping by, I’m sure the Foundation will be more than happy to open an exhibit in your father’s name, please don’t let us keep you from whatever plans you have for tonight. Rose say goodbye to the man—“

Turning, he scooped her up, flashed a last tight smile at Ramon, and carried Rose off towards the elevator. Once there she struggled a bit, but Mac refused to set her down, not looking at her, but keeping a grip that could only be described as ‘secure’. Rose sighed.

“We’re going home?”

“Youbet,” Mac replied tersely. He bit back the urge to say anything more, but his body responded to hers as it always did with a wild enthusiasm completely unaffected by whatever was on the mind. Rose experimentally blew in his ear; his knees quivered but he said nothing.

“Mac, I’ve been bad, haven’t I?” she whispered hopefully. As the elevator reached the parking garage, he strode out and towards the jeep, a man on a mission. Rose clung to him, biting her lip to keep from giggling. When they reached the Jeep, Mac didn’t bother opening the door; he dropped her onto the seat and stalked around to the driver’s side. Rose wriggled her hips quickly, and by the time Mac slid into the vehicle, she was strapped in and smiling. He glanced up and moaned actually moaned out loud.

The pink satin panties were draped on the rear view mirror. Scowling, he snatched them off, hissing under his breath.

“You are in so much trouble Brat, you have no idea, and this is not helping one bit—“

It was one of the quickest commutes Rose had ever been on; MacGyver was a careful driver, normally, but his grim expression and deliberate speed made her cover her eyes more than once. They pulled into the marina parking lot and Mac scooped her up once again, tossing her over his shoulder this time, carefully pinning her skirt down as he fished for the keys to the houseboat.

Rose sighed, ducking her head as he stalked in and over to the sofa, tossing her down on it.

“Briar Rose Althea Thais Clowderbock,” he rolled her name out with relish, glowering down into her startled face, “You have been a complete and utter pain in the ass today.”

“Me? What did I do?” she demanded, trying to sit up. Mac dropped his hands on either side of her shoulders, pinning her down under him for a moment.

“A lot of very bad things, sweetheart. You wore a dress that even Pete thinks should be illegal. You had lunch with that Brazilian bastard. Worst of all, you LET HIM TOUCH YOU!”

Nose to nose now, Rose stared up into dark, furious eyes, and in their depths she saw a tiny sweet glint of playfulness under all the anger. She licked her lips.

“That was---bad,” she admitted. Mac nodded, lips brushing hers.

“Very bad,” he corrected, “And because you were such a pain in the ass, Rose, I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Rose nodded very slowly, and Mac pulled back enough to let her sit up on the sofa. He took a deep breath, and ran a hand through his hair. She slipped out from under his body and stood on his right, bright-eyed looking at him. Mac bit back a sudden grin and forced himself to frown. He shifted to the edge of the sofa.

“Rose, I’m not happy with you,” he began softly. She nodded shifting a little.

“You not only deliberately provoked me, you enjoyed flaunting yourself—“ he muttered. She nodded again, a taunting smile on her full lips.

“Yes I did—“ came her admission. Mac shook his head.

“You deserve a spanking, Briar Rose. A little reminder that some things are just not acceptable.”

“I know—“ Rose admitted, quivering a little. The soft intensity of MacGyver’s tone was heating up her entire body and she didn’t know how much more she could take. He motioned to her with his chin.

“Over my knee, Brat, right now while I think about how many swats you deserve for that little display in the lobby.”

Slowly Rose draped herself over Mac strong thighs. His jean-covered legs were longer than hers, and she teetered a bit, her sandals no longer touching the floor as she stretched out. Lightly Mac flicked the hem of her dress high, nearly to the middle of her back. He looked down at her body and the hot surge of arousal flared up so hard and fast he felt dizzy.

“Ten,” he announced hoarsely, knowing it was about all he was going to be able to handle. As it was, his cock was straining hard against the denim, and the warm weigh of Rose was heating it up considerably. She squirmed playfully.

“I’ll be good,” Rose sighed in a little whimper. Mac drew in a breath, and before he lost the momentum of the moment, he brought his right hand down, firmly and squarely on her ass.

It was a most satisfying sensation, and the jolt of pleasure that shot through him startled Mac. He hadn’t realized that there would be a sense of selfish delight in this for him. Rose yelped.

“Ow!”

“---Disobedient—“ another three smacks, and the quiver of her satiny muscles under his hand made him sigh happily. It wasn’t about pain, he recognized, not at all. It was power, plain and simple. Rose was giving him complete sweet power.

“---Willful, wicked—“ he grunted, raining four more light but firm blows down across her ass. Rose squealed and shrieked in the most gratifying way, wriggling with slow undulations on his lap, grinding against his cock. He licked his lips, well aware he wasn’t going to hold out much longer. Rose was moaning happily by the sound of it.

“—Naughty, badly behaved brat and I won’t put up with it—“ he finished with a gasp, the last two blows a bit harder. Rose wailed, struggling to push herself up off of him, her entire body writhing now. Mac leaned back against the cushions of the sofa as she threw herself on him, blue eyes wide and wet. She pinned him, kisses raining down on his face.

“Oh God Mac, Pleeeassse I need it, I need it, fuck me baby---“ she crooned fingers tearing at the buttons of his shirt as the two of them kissed frantically. Rose was licking his face, sucking his chin, his throat as she ground herself against him. Mac gasped, trying to get out of his jeans without dislodging Rose. Finally he managed, pulling pants and boxers down roughly, dropping back on the sofa and yanking Rose to him swiftly.

“Shove it in, shove it in,” Rose sobbed, poised over his lap, legs wide, head tossed back. Mac hooked his arms under her knees and grabbed her ass, hot and firm in both hands.

“G-guide me in—“ he ordered in a strained voice. She did, one small hand circling him, shifting his throbbing cock to the juicy cleft between her quivering thighs. He thrust up, hard, and their loud moans made an erotic duet. Furiously, ferociously they didn’t’ even try for tenderness, giving themselves over to the raw power of pure animalistic sex, bodies locked together, striving for the ultimate pleasure of possessing the other. Rose clutched his shoulders her face wet with tears as she tensed hard, her body shuddering as wave after wave of erotic fulfillment rolled through her.

The sight was enough to tip Mac over the edge; his strong fingers clutched her ass tightly, and he came hard, pulsing deep in her, his stomach tightening as he emptied himself with a savage grunt.

For a long while they lay wrapped up in each other’s arms, dazed and unspeaking. Rose was shuddering a little, and her arms tightened around him. Mac breathed in the scent of her sweat and perfume, licking it from the side of her neck.

“Oh Mac—“ Rose finally sighed. He nuzzled her a little more, a smile on his face. She turned to look at him, but nothing came out. He pulled her face down and kissed her deeply, tongue swiping through her mouth in a satisfied way.

“Don’t be a bad girl too often Rose—you’ll end up killing me—“ he whispered sweetly. She giggled, cuddling up against him.

“I won’t—but when I do, make it just like this—“ Rose sighed happily, “Just like this.”

END