Mac Vs PC: Infected

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"Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition."

Steve Jobs (Apple/Macintosh)

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After what seemed like hours of Just Dance in the entertainment cabin with a dozen of energetic girls, Piper was ready for her bed. Her body loose from the gyrating and ridiculous pop moves, she approached her cabin with a sense of peace.

She ignored the tingling that fled from the bottom of her feet to her nipples as she saw Mac's side of the cabin lit up. Shaking off the feeling, she hopped up the steps only to be greeted with the sound of country music blasting from Mac's side of the cabin.

That little shit. Stomping into her room, Piper tugged off her clothes to switch into a loose tee. He knew how much she hated country music.

Excitement rushed through her body but Piper lumped it with the lingering arousal from their earlier session. The thought of another round with Mac; whether it was with their words or lips, provoked something dangerous inside of her. Weeks before, she wanted to throw his suitcases into the pool; now she wanted nothing more than to have him inside her.

The pitfalls of being a hormonal teenager.

And that was exactly what Piper blamed this chemical imbalance of her heated skin and tight thighs on. It was a logical reaction to a fine male species that would equal and challenge her. She had enough testosterone to want to conquer him. It would be illogical to have any more feelings toward him than she could control. If she got caught up in, god forbid, actually falling for Mackenzie... the landing would be bone shattering. Not only was he her quasi-brother, living in her house, an integral part of her childhood, but she was holding onto information that could potentially break him.

Piper tried to think about her mother, his mother, her ex-boyfriend, Erin, Lindy, and Gloria. Anyone to stop her from walking through that adjourning door and giving herself to someone she wasn't dating, to someone she was lying to, or to someone she didn't understand her feelings towards. She knew where his feelings stood. He was Mac, slut extraordinaire, with his string of cheerleading girlfriends and the last thing she wanted was to be another name on his list.

Her legs clinched involuntary trying to catch the heat that was seeping from between her thighs. As a female was she so weak at the thought of being touched and caressed that she would let her beliefs fall as quickly as her clothes. Piper ignored everything her mind screamed to her as she pushed open the door. He stood at the foot of his bed, shirtless with his shorts riding low on his hips.

"Yo, privacy?" She could have sworn she saw him blush as he nudged up his pants.

"Like that's ever stopped you from flashing me before." Piper leaned her shoulder against the jam of the door running her eyes up and down the skin he exposed.

"You're the one that dared me to stick my ass out the side of the bus." Mac shifted from foot to foot as if he was waiting for something to happen. Piper felt the same way.

God, grant her mercy.

"That was Ace, not me." In an effort to continue the façade that her thoughts weren't focused on the things she could do to his body, she concentrated on his face. How she went from zero to hormonal, confused and delighted her; she wouldn't let him know that easily.

"Six years later and still putting the blame on someone else." Mac's hand lifted to scratch his chest and Piper's eyes followed.

Distracting herself, she faced him. "So I told you what you wanted to know. Your turn."