Chapter Text
Macy walked into the bar downtown knowing everything was going to change tomorrow when she and her brand-new sisters would accept their responsibility as the Charmed Ones.
She was still dizzy with how quickly everything had happened, how her quite, solitary life had changed so completely.
One minute she was an orphan and a scientist, and after a single phone call from her mother’s friend, she was suddenly a sister and a witch. Two things she never thought she’d be.
Charity had explained what it all meant, and how it was a choice they’d have to make together. It had taken a minute for Macy to be convinced, but when she’d learned that by saying no she’d never get a chance to know her sisters the decision hadn’t been that hard.
But it had been for Mel, who was all set to change the world, make it better, take back the power – until she’d learned there would be sacrifices. It was possible for witches to have relationships, to live and long and happy lives with those they loved, but it was next to impossible with a Charmed.
Mel had argued, and Macy had understood why because her sister had a girlfriend whom she loved, but the Elder had patiently explained that being in a relationship with a Charmed One was a quick way to a painful death.
Anyone they were with could be used as pawns, a weak point to pull and manipulate them and they could never allow themselves to be manipulated.
Who they were, what they’d do, it was all too dangerous to involve people who couldn’t protect themselves against magic.
Doors had slammed, but in the end Mel had done what was right, even if it hurt.
Macy didn’t have to worry about ending a relationship because she’d never had one, but when she thought about what was coming there was a deep emptiness in her chest at all the things she’d missed out on. She didn’t was want to die – and she was beginning to think it was a very real possibility – without experiencing some of that.
Maybe she wouldn’t like sex, maybe the entire thing would be boring, but she wanted to know for herself. Which is why she’d dressed up to enjoy her last night of freedom.
A deep red dress and matching lips, she’d put on her kitten heels and go hunting.
Macy scrunched her nose as she took a seat at the bar. She didn’t like the idea of hunting, it sounded too violent and too predatory. Perusing, she decided as she eyed the people congregating in the trendy bar. She’d always liked shopping even if she’d hadn’t always had the money to splurge.
Before coming here she’d looked up advice on how to pick up people at a bar, but the suggestions were either incredibly corny, or verging on sexual harassment so in the end she’d ignored all the articles and figured she’d just go on instinct. She ordered a glass of wine when the bartender asked what she’d like to drink, and imagined this would all be easier if she felt sexual attraction.
She could see someone, get horny, and bam! The whole virginity thing – social construct or not – would be over. Instead she’d have to-
“Ma’am?”
Macy looked over to see a guy who was a handful of years older than her, but had a kind face and a phone in his hand. “Would you please make sure no one spits in my drink? I have to take a call outside.”
“What if I spit in your drink?” she asked, and was immediately startled by the fact she was flirting.
He laughed. “Then I deserve it for picking such an untrustworthy person to guard my fermented grapes.”
Macy grinned, “I’ll make sure no one defiles your drink.”
“Thank you.”
The man stepped outside and when Macy looked over to see where he’d been sitting she realized he had ordered the same drink she had. There was also a book sitting next to his glass and because she was nosy she couldn’t help but pick it up to read the summary.
It had interesting premise and because she had nothing else to do she flipped to the front of the book and started reading. It was less than five minutes later that the gentleman came back and laughed. “You’re reading my book?”
She held it up so he could see she had a finger between the pages. “Don’t worry, I saved your spot.”
“Am I going to get it back?” he teased, bringing the wine glass up to his lips.
Okay, that zing was definitely sexual. She shifted on her barstool and held the book out over the empty chair separating them. “Sci-fi, huh?” she asked to cover the fact she was just a tiny bit turned on by the mouth and the hand delicately holding the glass stem. He had really good hands.
He looked adorably guilty at being caught and explained, “I like fiction, but I can’t handle anything historical.” He paused and then added, “I can’t handle the inaccuracies.”
“I can’t handle most science fiction,” she rested her chin on her hand and gave him a smile. “I can’t handle the inaccuracies.”
His eyes went bright which Macy hadn’t expected. Most people were vaguely interested or outright bored with science. “You’re a scientist?”
Macy nodded, and felt a warmth in her chest, just behind her sternum and would love to have the chance to study it, write it all down to investigate it later. “I am. I’m a geneticist.”
She’d come out here for a reason, and she’d almost resigned herself to finding some horny post-grad student or lawyer, but wouldn’t it be nice to spend time with a slightly nerdy British man? Macy moved over to the empty seat between them. “Dr. Macy Vaughn.”
His grin was warm honey, and his hand felt steady when he shook hers. “Harry Greenwood.”
“Nice to meet you, Harry.”
He shifted a little so he was facing more towards her and Macy forcibly stopped herself from trying to remember everything she’d learned about body language from entertainment tv. If she started down that path, she’d overthink herself right out of this bar.
“What brings you out on a quiet Thursday evening?”
Macy made a calculated decision, and braced herself for a bad reaction. “I’m trying to get laid.”
He froze, wine glass halfway to his mouth. Harry carefully set it down on the bar. “I appreciate you not saying that while I was drinking.”
“It’s good wine, it would be a shame to waste it,” she quipped back, and hoped she sounded like she knew what she was doing. Confidence, fake it till you make it.
His smile suggested he hadn’t outright dismissed her. “Is there something in particular which brings you out tonight instead of tomorrow?”
“I’m starting a new job tomorrow,” she admitted, and maybe she shouldn’t play poker because as soon as she started kind of lying, she started fiddling with her glass. She picked up the wine and took a small drink. “It’s going to take up a lot of my time, so there’s not going to be a lot of opportunity going forward.”
“Now or never?”
Macy nodded. “Something like that.”
“Well then,” he braced his feet on the barstool’s foot rest and lifted himself off the seat to pull out his wallet. “I suppose now it is.”
She watched as he took out a twenty dollar bill and laid it on the bar between their drinks. “Oh.”
Harry’s head tilted a little as he looked at her. “Unless I misunderstood?”
“No,” she rushed to assure him. “I just didn’t think it would be this easy.”
His laughter was big and bright and made Macy smile in return. “I can play hard to get if that would make you feel more comfortable.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Harry slid off his stool and held his hand out to Macy and after half a second of hesitation she accepted it and let the nice man lead her outside. “Wait.”
He stopped and Macy pulled out her phone and without giving him any warning she took a picture of him. “There, now it’s uploaded to the cloud, so if you kill me I want you to know you’re not going to get away with it.”
“Smart,” he nodded approvingly. “Your place or mine?”
She’d moved out of the Airbnd room this afternoon, so her place was a room at her sisters’ house. Her mother's old room. “Yours.”
“Good call,” he took three steps to the left and turned to a door tucked into the brick exterior.
Macy laughed. “You live above a bar?”
“It’s not a particularly loud bar,” he explained. “And there’s a lot of great places to eat nearby.”
“Good food is important,” she agreed and followed him up the stairs to a second floor which was split into two apartments. “Do you have a neighbor?”
“Yes, so if I do murder you someone will hear you scream,” he teased.
“Oh good.”
He let himself into his apartment and Macy follow him inside and was surprised at how empty it was. It was a single room with a nice couch and a big television, but no personal affects. There was only a box of books near the couch, and an open suitcase near the end of the bed proving anyone actually lived here.
“Did you just move?”
“A week ago,” he answered, hanging his keys on a hook by the door. “I’m starting a new job soon, but I don’t know how long it’ll last so I’m waiting to see how it goes before I get the rest of my things out of storage.”
Macy nodded but didn’t say anything, her gaze fixated on the bed.
She wasn't going to second guess herself – she’d made the decision, and she was going to go through with it – but she kind of wished she had any kind of relationship with her sisters so she could call them from the bathroom to tell them what she was doing.
“You didn’t get a chance to finish your wine downstairs, did you want a glass?”
Macy turned and saw he was watching her, and because she didn’t know what he could see she intentionally relaxed her face. “Yes, thank you.”
He walked into the kitchen area, separated only by a breakfast bar, and Macy followed as he reached into the fridge and took out a bottle of white wine and poured them each a glass. Harry held one out to her and she accepted it.
She took a drink as he moved to put the wine away, and something about the alcohol made her tongue a little loose. “I’ve never had sex before.”
He stopped and stared at her and Macy thanked the Gods – was she allowed to thank God now that she was a witch? – for the distance and the low lighting because hopefully it meant Harry wouldn't be able to see the blush she could feel warming her cheeks.
“Okay…”
“It just seemed like something you should know,” she said, the words coming out so quickly they nearly tripped over each other. “And I might be weird, so I thought you should have some context. For the weirdness.”
His smile was a little amused, and he walked towards her with an easy gait. She liked that he wasn’t a man in a hurry to get somewhere. She wondered where he got his calm from, it was like he had all the time in the world and no rush to get to where he was going.
As she took a drink of the cool wine, she wished she had some of that for her own.
“We don’t have to have sex, Macy.”
“No,” she put the glass down and rested her hands on his shoulders and realized for the first time they were matched in height. All she had to do to was lean forward just a little and she could kiss him. “I want to.”
Harry watched her for a second, his eyes dipping down briefly to her lips before returning his gaze to hers. “Why me?”
Macy wished she had a way to explain it, she could barely understand it herself. It was if she'd gone to that bar because she'd known he would be there, as she knew the right man was just sitting with a book waiting for her to show up. But she couldn't tell him that, he'd think she was drunk or out of her mind so she looked around the kitchen – or what little she could see past his shoulders – and saw the teapot on his stove. “You like tea?”
“I’m British,” he said by way of answer, his voice was dry enough it made her laugh.
“Have you ever come home from a stressful day and made a pot of tea and it was just the right thing in the right moment?”
“Yes.”
“You’re my cup of tea, Harry.”
“Well,” he shifted forward so he was nearly pressed against her, his hands resting on the counter so she was trapped. But she didn’t feel caged in, she felt protected. “How can a man be expected to say no to that?”
It was a dangerous thing to have affection for what would amount to a one night stand, but Macy could feel the emotion burrowing its way into her heart.
And then he kissed her and she knew she was lost.
It was just a press of lips, nothing particularly sexual, but his chest was pressed against her breasts and he surrounded her, and it took a moment for her to realize he was waiting for her to take the lead.
Macy could feel herself overthinking the moment, her mind racing about angle and tongue and if she'd be any good at it. Almost as if he could sense her nerve he ran his hands down her side and back up again, stroking her like a pet. Somehow, for some reason, it worked and she was able kiss him back.
She ran her hands down his arms and was surprised by the muscle she could feel hidden beneath the soft sweater. She shifted her head to change the angle, her hands following the lines of his arm, taking one of his hands and placing it low on her hip.
He easily followed her lead, his long fingers pressing into the curve of her ass, pulling her body closer to his until she felt the impression of his arousal against her pelvis.
It was if someone had flipped a switch inside her, the tiny spark in her veins turned into a full fledged wildfire. She slid her arms around him, “More.”
The hand on her ass slid up to her back, his other hand coming up to frame her cheek. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips and she opened her mouth to let him taste.
To taste him back.
His tongue slid along the inside of her mouth, a slow, languid thrust which was so erotic Macy clung to him just to keep from melting. Macy tentatively followed his tongue back to his mouth, sliding along his lips and tongue and the sound Harry made encouraged her until they were taking turns licking into one another.
“Christ, Macy.”
Harry’s voice was breathless, a little desperate, and while she’d never considered herself the kind of woman who brought a man to his knees in was nice to know she could.
“I want to touch you, Harry,” she whispered against his cheek as her fingers found the hem of his shirt. He let go of her just long enough to lift his arms so she could tug the sweater off and drop it on the counter behind her.
He moved to wrap his arms around her again but she stopped him with a hand on his chest because she wanted to get a good look at him. She was going to explain herself, but her focus was easily distracted by the smooth expanse of his torso. Macy ran her fingers along his chest, down his sternum, marveling at how warm he was. When she traced along his ribs he jerked beneath her hand, a quick sound coming out of his mouth.
Macy looked up at his face and saw an embarrassed smile at the corner of his mouth. “Ticklish,” he explained with self conscious chuckle. “Don’t tell anyone.”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck so they were once again pressed up against each other. Macy was half a second from putting his hands back on her but he beat her to it, his hands covering her ass and squeezing possessively.
“I promise,” Macy began, her lips a breath’s distance away from his. “Your secret is safe with me.”
She could feel his smile against her lips, “My hero.”
He kissed her for what felt like hours, his hands briefly touching her curved over the layers of clothing, and while she loved kissing him she wanted more. Macy pulled back and turned in his arms, but that didn’t deter Harry in the least. He brushed her hair to the side and pressed his mouth to her neck, his tongue and teeth and lips learning her. Every time she'd gasp or moan he'd go back to the spot which had made her react as if he was carefully mapping every pleasure point.
“Harry,” she managed to get out. “My dress.”
There was a moment of silence and Macy chose to think he was getting his bearings, and then she felt the delicious slide of the zipper down her beck. The knuckles of his hand bumped along her spine, the feel of his skin on her was almost more than she could handle.
Macy could feel when his fingers hit her bra strap, hooking around it and tugging slightly. “May I?”
“Yes.”
Harry unhooked her bra and Macy had a quick moment of self doubt. Frustrated with herself she pulled her dress down to her hips and when she took off her bra she set it down on the counter before turning around.
He didn’t touch her, but the way he looked her was almost a physical thing. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
The curse coming from such a proper British man was a surprising turn on. “I’m not ticklish.”
Harry’s eyes went dark, “Duly noted.”
Macy held her breath, anticipation making her blood hot as he reached out to cup her breasts in his hands. His thumb brushed against her nipples, the hard buds tightening against the sensation. “Gorgeous,” he repeated, his gaze fixated on her breasts a second before he covered one of her nipples with his mouth. It was a hot, wet heat as his tongued teased her, his teeth a sharp contrast that had her moving against him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hand sliding down the curve of stomach to slip inside the silk of her underwear. She clung to his shoulders as his fingers found the slickness of her core, sliding against her with a wet friction she had used on herself in the past, but it was vastly different experience when it was someone else doing it. Her words were lost somewhere in her throat when he start licking and sucking on her other breast while his fingers teased her.
Macy didn’t know what to do with her hands, with her body, there was so much sensation she didn’t think her body could contain it anymore. She didn't want him to stop so she buried her fingers in his hair to keep him in place, but eventually his mouth made its way back up her sternum and neck until he could kiss her again.
This was not the proper, introductory kiss they’d started out with, or the sexy foreplay from before.
Instead, it was a dirty exchange of tongue and teeth and Macy was turned on she could have screamed when he pulled away to push her dress down to the ground. In what was possibly the most gentlemanly thing anyone had ever done for her, Harry picked up the dress and shook it out before laying it flat on the counter.
Her dresses wouldn’t have wrinkles when she put it on later.
“Come on, love.”
He took her hand and led her out of the kitchen and towards the bed and belatedly Macy realized she was still wearing her shoes and stopped long enough to kick them off. When they got to the bed Macy turned to kiss him again but he backed her up until her knees hit the bed.
“Lay down.”
Macy raised her brows, “Bossy.”
His grin was quick and charming and hit Macy right where she was hot and empty. “I promise, it’ll be worth it.”
“I have condoms,” Macy blurted out as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She was pretty sure the hot British stranger was about to go down on her, but when all was said and done she wanted him to fuck her and she’d come prepared. “In my purse.”
“Smart,” he gave her a quick, almost friendly kiss and went back to the counter where her purse lay and instead of going through it he brought it back and let her take the condoms out. Macy dropped her purse on the floor, put the condoms on the bed next to her.
“Now, where were we?” he asked, his eyes all but glittering with mischief. “Ah, yes.”
He went down to his knees in front of the bed, between her knees, and Macy resisted the urge to close her legs to his perusal. She knew she’d likely soaked through her underwear, but it didn’t matter because was pulling them down and she lifted her hips so he could take them off her.
“I do anything you don’t like, just say so,” he said, his full attention on her pussy before meeting her gaze with surprising seriousness. “And I’ll stop.”
Macy nodded, “Okay.”
“Now, lay down and let me see how many times I can get you to say my name.”
She laughed but did as told, shifting a little on the bed to get closer, then squealed when Harry pulled her towards him so her pelvis was at the edge of the bed.
And then he was tasting her.
But she couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop analyzing everything that was happening. Was she enjoying this? What did she enjoy the most? Did she taste good? Did it matter if she did?
When nipped at the skin on the inside of her thigh. "I must not be doing this properly if you're capable of thinking quite so loud."
Macy covered her face with her eyes. "I'm sorry. I told you I was going to be weird."
He ran his hand along her leg, another soothing gesture. "It's not weird, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself."
"I am," she promised. "I can't turn my brain off."
"Watch me."
Macy's eyes widened, "What?"
"Watch me," he repeated and she couldn't help but do as he suggested. His head was wedged between her thighs, and he kept his gaze on hers as he flicked his tongue against her clit in a slow rhythm so she was anticipating each touch like the sweetest torture she could imagine.
It was so erotic, she stopped thinking completely.
“Fuck,” Macy hissed, her fingers fisting in the sheets as his mouth went to work on the most sensitive, private part of her. Jesus, there was no way all men were this good at giving oral, he was going to ruin her for every other guy.
His tongue teased her entrance, her clit, building the tension and want until she was desperate for a release. She shamelessly moved against his mouth, trying to get the pressure she was all but dying for. “So impatient,” Harry murmured against the skin of her thigh. His lips left a tiny trail along her skin.
She felt his finger against her, a light touch at first, and then the blunt end of his forefinger was sliding into her. “Harry.”
His finger slid into her easily, and her pussy automatically clenched around the single digit.
“You are so hot and wet,” he praised, kissing her hip, her stomach, wherever he could seem to reach while his finger worked her into a frenzy. “My cock is so hard, Macy. I want to be inside you so desperately.”
She wanted the same thing, but she knew what he was doing. Using his fingers would stretch her, get her used to being invaded in such a lovely way so when he finally filled her it would only be pleasure, no pain.
Macy moved against his hand, wanton and wanting. “Harry, please.”
“Tell me what you want, love. I’ll give it to you.”
She tried not to blush at using the words, he was finger fucking her for crying out loud, the words shouldn’t feel so dirty. “Another finger,” she told him. “And your mouth.”
Macy could feel the wicked smile against her skin. “My pleasure.”
He slid two fingers into her, keeping up the steady rhythm. She wanted it faster, but whenever she tried to speed up the pace he pressed his hand on her stomach to still her. It was the sweetest agony, especially when he pressed his mouth against her cunt.
He licked and sucked her clit, and when she cried from the orgasm he didn’t miss a beat.
Harry kept it up, thrusting his fingers in and out so she could hear the sound of her own arousal, the wet sound almost loud in the quiet room where the only other noise was their breathing. He drove her up again, and the orgasm this time was so quick and sharp she nearly screamed his name as she crashed and fell apart.
His gaze was hot on hers as he pulled his fingers from inside her. “That was by far, the sexiest thing I have seen in my life.”
Her thoughts were briefly distracted by the slickness still on his fingers. Her arousal, and what he did to her, evident down to his palm.
“What’s the verdict?” She asked, vaguely surprised she could form full sentences. He raised a single brow and she had the bizarre desire to brush her finger along the curve of his brow, a stupidly affectionate gesture which had no place here. “How many times did I say your name?”
He laughed and it made everything light and warm inside her. “I lost count, but don’t worry, I intend to return the favor.”
“Oh?”
“By the end of the night, you’ll have lost count of how may times I’ve made you come.”
He said it like a promise, but the way her cunt clenched at the words, it felt like a warning.
Macy picked up the condom and carefully removed the wrapper. She looked up at him through her lashes, and saw he was already undoing his belt. “May I?”
“I truly wish you would.”
She set the condom down again and batted away his hands to finish undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, pushing them down his hips, taking his boxers with him. Macy was a doctor, and while not a medical one, dicks were not anything particularly new to her.
But this was Harry, and soon it would be inside her, and she wanted to take a moment.
“Can I touch you?” Macy asked, because it seemed polite to ask.
The muscles in his face were almost as tight as his voice when he nodded. “Yes.”
She brushed her thumb against his head, the precum sticking to her finger as she touched the length of him. Macy was careful with her nails, not wanting to hurt him, but she could tell by the unsteady breath of the man above her that she wasn’t hurting Harry in any way.
“If we had a little more time, I’d love to be in your mouth.”
Macy had the quick, erotic image of her tongue and mouth on his erection, taking him in and sucking him off. She wished they had the time as well, but this was one night and it was nearly over, so she took the condom and slowly rolled it on.
“Back on the bed,” he said, his voice taking on a dark, husky quality.
With a nod Macy moved further back on the bed, but didn’t lay down, instead resting her weight on her elbows so she could watch him.
He took his pants the rest of the way off, kicking off his shoes and socks before crawling on the bed towards her.
It might have been the hottest thing she’d ever seen.
When he kissed her she fell back onto the mattress, his body covering hers. She’d always pictured herself on top during sex, taking control, but as his weight settled on her and pressed her into the mattress she realized she’d been mistaken.
It turned out she liked losing control, enjoyed the feeling of floating along a river and being taken for a lovely, sometimes wild ride.
He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, his leg sliding between her thighs. As they made out Macy rode his leg, knowing she was getting her arousal all over his skin and not caring as the friction gave her some relief for the roiling need once again building up inside her.
His hands slid down her sides, her ribs, covered her ass and brought her tighter against him.
They couldn’t be any closer, Macy thought as she ran her hands over his shoulder and down his back. If they were, they’d be a single entity, unable to escape each other.
Harry sat up on his knees, and carefully moved Macy’s leg so he was between the v of her thighs. “Ready?”
Macy nodded and couldn’t help but touch him, her fingers tracing the lines of the muscle in his forearm. “Ready.”
He braced himself at her entrance, hands on her thighs as if worried she might get up and walk away. Macy couldn’t imagine being anywhere else on earth but exactly where she was.
Harry pressed into her, a slow movement which slowly spread her. When she could feel the tip inside her, she took a sharp breath. “Are you okay?”
Macy nodded, “More.”
“I have to go slow,” he told her, but she could hear from his voice doing so was difficult for him. “My fingers will have prepared you, but taking all of me is going to be a bit different. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Instead of answering, Macy took his hand and linked her fingers with his and impulsively kissed the back of it before resting their intertwined hands above her head on the bed.
Another inch and Macy gasped, moving against him, wanting to feel everything possible.
His hand tightened in hers as he shifted above her, resting his weight on his elbow. “Christ, Macy, you’re going to fucking kill me.”
“I’d rather you just fuck me,” she quipped back. She’d intended for it to sound like a tease but instead it came out a little breathless, revealing every bit of want building inside of her.
“I’d never refuse a lady.”
He slid almost completely out before moving back inside her, and the stretch was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Macy quickly caught on to the rhythm, raising her hips to meet him as he filled her a little more each time.
And then he was in her completely, she could feel his pelvis against hers, his breath hot against her throat. But he didn’t move again. It wasn’t a bad sensation, in fact it was almost erotic the way she wanted to move but couldn’t because the weight of him kept her still. “Harry?”
“You might not need a moment to adjust,” he started, taking in a deep breath. “But I do. You feel fucking amazing and I’m liable to make a fool of myself.”
Macy ran her free hand down the back of his neck, trying to soothe him. “I don’t mind.”
He laughed, a huff of breath, “I do.”
“You’ve given me more than enough pleasure, Harry.”
He raised himself up and looked down at her. “Can you take a little more, Macy?”
It might have sounded like a challenge or a dare coming from anyone else. But instead it sounded like an honest question, the kind someone would ask with their heart in their throat. “Yes, Harry. I can."
And then he started moving in earnest. The pace he set would have been brutal if Macy hadn’t been desperate for it. He no longer pulled out as much, keeping his thrusts short and quick enough Macy was barely able to keep up with him.
She let go of his hand, wrapping her arms around him to keep him close, and this time she paid no attention to her nails as they dug into his skin.
“Macy,” he murmured into the curve of her throat and she knew he was close to his end.
“Touch me, Harry,” she whispered into his ear. “Take me with you.”
He reached between them, where their bodies were entwined and found the hard little pearl of her desire and pressed down on it hard.
Macy’s entire body stiffened, her scream a silent thing as she climaxed so hard around him she could have sworn the entire room went bright with a white light.
Above her, Harry said her name as he found his own release and for a minute they lay there together, a slight sheen of sweat covering them both.
“Am I crushing you?”
Macy smiled against his cheek and shifted a little beneath him, her arms wrapped around his middle. She didn’t want to think about why she was so reluctant to let him go. “No, it’s kind of nice.”
Despite her answer Harry shifted a little, raising up on one elbow and it was nice to just look at him. His hands absently ran over her skin, and while it was no longer arousing it was incredibly intimate and that dangerous flutter in her chest took hold. “You know, when I went down to the bar last night I thought I’d get through the rest of my book, and maybe a couple glasses of wine.”
Macy smiled up at him. “Sorry for ruining your night.”
He laughed and gave her a kiss, “Hardly ruined, love. I’m never going to be able to pick up that book again without thinking about what it lead to. I’m going to use the bathroom.”
When he pulled out it was an odd feeling, but every muscle in Macy’s body was loose and warm. She could run a marathon or sleep for twelve hours.
With that thought Macy got up and went to the kitchen, feeling a little weird walking through a stranger’s apartment naked.
She paused at the sink, were they still strangers if they’d given each other orgasms?
Probably not, she decided as she found a glass and filled it with water. She drank half of it while collecting her clothes and putting her underwear back on.
“You’re welcome to use the bathroom if you want,” Harry said as he stepped out.
“Thanks,” she handed him the glass as she walked past him. “Hydrate.”
Macy used the restroom, freshened up as best she could and when she came out Harry had put on loose fitting pajama pants and was standing in the sitting area. They sat low on his hips and Macy took a breath in order to resist the urge to jump him.
“I hope the tea was to your liking.”
She grinned as she walked past him to grab her dress. “It was, thank you.”
His eyes were on her as she got dressed, she could feel the weight of them on her skin as she slipped on her shoes. “You don’t have to go, you know.”
Macy looked up, surprised by the suggestion, but immediately shook her head as she zipped herself up. It would have been nice to have him do it, but Macy didn’t trust herself. “I can’t.”
She walked towards him and stopped less than a foot away from. “If I don’t go now, I won’t go at all.”
“Hardly the worst idea.”
Her smile was soft as she leaned forward and kissed him. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”
He lightly pinched her chin between his thumb and finger and brought her back for another, longer kiss. “I’ll see you later, Macy.”
If only she’d known then how right he was.
Harry was distracted and staring at a wine glass when he should be getting ready to meet his new charges.
It had been a long time since he’d taken a woman to his bed. His job was dangerous, and required him to leave at a moment’s notice which was hardly conducive to romantic entanglements. And the idea of a one night stand had never particularly interested him.
And then Macy.
He’d seen her the moment she’d walked into the bar and had been utterly fascinated by her. She was dressed like she was there to meet someone, but her eyes looked all business as she took a seat by herself at the bar.
Harry had pretended to read as she watched her. She hadn’t checked her phone as if letting someone know she was there and he’d begun to wonder what she was about: a beautiful woman in a beautiful dress sitting alone in a bar.
Then Charity had called, and Macy had been so adorably awkward and funny he’d rather wished he didn’t need to step out and talk to the Elder who would be updating him on his new charges. He knew they were Marisol Vera's daughters, only one of which he'd already met.
He’d much rather have stayed and talked to the pretty brunette with the laughing eyes.
When she’d propositioned him, nothing had shocked him more and the idea of taking a stranger to bed suddenly had merit.
She kissed like an angel and had been wetter than sin.
And suddenly he was half hard thinking about her spread out on his bed. Frustrated with himself he grabbed his sweater felt a twinge from the marks Macy had left on his skin. He could have healed it easily enough, but for reasons he’d rather not consider he didn’t want to get rid of those last vestiges of her.
In the back of his head he heard three women say his name, and with a deep breath he orbed from his apartment to an attic on the other side of town.
He’d done this enough times he could orient himself to new places rather quickly and took in the cluttered space, Charity, Macy, Mel and the young woman who was likely Maggie.
Wait.
Macy?
His gaze slid back to hers and saw the same shock he felt written on her face.
Harry tried to remain composed, but it was a difficult thing to do when the woman who had screamed his name last night was standing in front of her looking as if she’d just seen a ghost. Meanwhile her sister yelled at him as though she’d like to throw him out the window.
Over Mel’s voice, Charity announced she’d let the four of them get to know each other and left, leaving him alone with the Vera-Vaughns.
“You know each other?” Macy asked, her eyes never leaving his.
“He’s the unqualified jackass took over mom’s position at the university,” Mel snapped. “And the bane of my existence.”
Harry didn’t take it personally and instead turned to the youngest witch whom he hadn’t formally met yet. She stepped forward with her hand out, immediately friendly. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He shook her hand but his gaze swung briefly back to Macy before returning to Maggie who watched him as if she saw more than he wanted her to. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie which was still perfectly in place. “Apologies, it’s just not everyday one is in the presence of the Charmed Ones. It’s lovely to meet you as well.”
Harry looked back at woman who had her hands linked together in front of her.
“And you must be Macy,” he said as he walked towards her. He had no idea how she wanted to play this, but without the ability to speak with her telepathically he had to go on instinct. The fact she hadn’t immediately let her sisters know she knew him suggested she’d like to keep their night a secret as well.
“I am.”
Unlike Maggie, Macy didn’t step forward to shake his head and for that Harry was grateful. He didn’t think he’d be able to retain his composure if he touched her right now.
“A pleasure,” he gave them each a nod and tried not to hold Macy’s gaze too long. “I presume you all have been brought up to date on my role?”
“We scream for help and you show up?” Maggie asked and he appreciated her attempt at brevity when it was clear there was a little bit of worry in her eyes.
“Something like that, yes. I’ve also been around for a while so I’ve got a certain amount of magical knowledge you might have need of from time to time.”
“How old are you?” Macy asked as if she couldn’t help herself.
“Technically? I’ll be a hundred in a few years,” and he got a little kick out of the surprise on the women’s faces. “But I died when I was 37.”
“Died?” Mel asked, she sounded so concerned he was touched, especially since most of the time she wanted to murder him.
“It was a little thing,” he tried for a smile. “And it didn’t take.”
Maggie pulled out of her phone and read it quickly, letting out a noise Harry couldn’t quite decipher. “Kappa stuff,” she announced to the room. “I’ll be back later for whatever witchy stuff comes up. See you later, Harry.”
“I look forward to it.”
Mel let out a heavy sigh, “And I’m going to finish packing up Niko’s stuff along with all of my hopes and dreams for the future. Yay. Are you going to hang around for a while?”
Harry nodded and didn’t look at Macy. “I’m at your disposal.”
Mel snorted. “Weird, but I can get behind it. Do you need anything Macy?”
“No, I’m good thanks.”
With a nod Mel walked out of the attic and Harry was left with the woman he’d spent a memorable night with. And for someone who had been alive for almost a century, that was saying something.
She was watching him as she if couldn’t quite figure him out and, like he had the night before, he waited for to take the lead.
“You’re more formal.”
It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say, but then she was constantly taking him by surprise. “This is my job, Macy.”
“I’m your job,” she said it slowly like saying it out loud made it real.
“Yes.”
Macy shifted from one foot to another, and he could practically feel the nerves coming off her in waves. “Did we break any rules?” she asked.
She was completely covered from shoulder to toe, the only bit of skin he could see was at the v of her shirt, but in the bright light of day, in her mother’s attic, he could easily remember every bit of skin beneath. It was…distracting.
“Not technically.” Macy’s brows lifted and he stepped forward to explain, keeping his voice low in case anyone was nearby and might overhear. “Relationships between whitelighters and witches are forbidden by the Elders, but as neither of us were aware of the other’s profession when we met I imagine it would be forgiven.”
“Forbidden? That’s a strong word.” He didn’t say anything as he could see the pieces siding into place for her. She wasn’t a particularly expressive person, but it was in the eyes; Harry could see a whole world happening behind them. “It’s a conflict of interest.”
“Just so,” he nodded. “Can’t have a whitelighter playing favorites when lives are on the line.”
Macy crossed her arms and something about the gesture made him want to walk towards her and give comfort, but he wasn’t stupid enough to follow through on the gesture. “Okay, then.”
She said it with such certainty Harry wasn’t sure he understood. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she repeated. “It was always meant to be a one time thing, so it’ll stay that way. Probably shouldn’t tell my sisters though.”
“Why is that?” he asked as he fought the kneejerk instinct to be offended. “Are you worried they might think less of you?”
He adored the fact she actually thought about it. She took every question as a serious matter, and it made her one of the most honest people he’d ever met. Which was why it was a little odd she wanted to keep something from her newly found family.
“No, I don’t think they’d think any less of me but…” the words trailed off as she looked at him. “Last night was personal. Private.”
Harry couldn’t agree more, but the idea of never again while also looking at her every day was something he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. "In that case, I can take care of that for you."
"Take care of what?" Macy asked.
Suddenly feeling like a greenlad of 17 rather than 37 Harry swallowed and gestured vaguely at her. "You have a hickey."
Her eyes went wide and she moved to the dusty mirror hanging from a stud and moved her hair to see the barely noticeable bruise on her neck just below her neck. "Oh my God, I have a hickey." She turned back to look at him, but she seemed more shocked than angry which was a relief. "Do you think they saw?"
"I doubt it," he consoled. "I only noticed because I knew where to look. I can heal it."
Macy nodded and pulled her hair aside so Harry could put his hand an inch above her skin, the light pulsed briefly and the bruise was gone. "There. All better. And my apologies, I can't remember the last time I gave someone a bite mark."
She nodded and rubbed her hand over the spot he'd healed. She looked back at the mirror as if to make sure it was gone. "Is this why I went home with you?"
"I don't understand the question," he admitted.
"You're my whitelight," and the words were as odd for him to hear as they must have been for her to say. "Is that why I felt safe enough to trust you last night when every bit of common sense says I shouldn't have?"
Harry considered his words, wanting to give her an honest answer. "No, it wasn't why."
Macy nodded but didn't look completely convinced.
He stepped forward so his face was right behind hers in the mirror. "As a whitelighter my job is to help you, protect you, but the bond isn't a forgone thing. Trust is not a given. If you trusted me last night I'm honored, but it had nothing to do with our... professional connection."
Her lips quirked up at the corners and a little bit of tension left the room. When she turned around her shoulders weren't as stiff, "Professional connection?"
"There is a connection," he admitted with a shrug. "If you call out, I'll hear you. I'll come."
"Professionals," she repeated as if the word was important. "Colleagues."
"Colleagues it is then.”
Macy looked down at his hand when he extended it out between them.
“This is going to end so badly,” she remarked, but sounded almost darkly amused by the prospect as she shook his hand.
Harry had to agreed as her fingers curved around his because his first instinct was to pull her to him and ravish her on the dusty couch pushed up against the wall.
This was going to end very, very badly indeed.