An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
More Than Just Art ISBN # 1-4199-0465-5 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. More Than Just Art Copyright© 2005 Mlyn Hurn Edited by Linda Carroll-Bradd. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: December 2005
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. More Than Just Art has been rated S-ensuous by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
MORE THAN JUST ART Mlyn Hurn
Mlyn Hurn
Chapter One Elizabeth Smith wandered away from the other people at the exclusive party. Her partner for the evening’s festivities was the guest of honor, Tommy Geller, the company’s new hotshot genius. He was also her brand-new roommate. Whoever thought she’d end up sharing an apartment with the kid she used to baby-sit? Seeking peace and quiet, she had wandered to the second floor of the New York City Museum of Modern Art. Here she discovered the spacious galleries specifically designed to optimally display the contemporary works. Too many partygoers were enjoying the Cézanne exhibit for her to find a private spot. Not giving up hope, she continued walking because she knew the new six-story building would surely have some small niches for a brief respite. A comfortable, padded seat on the more secluded third level of the art museum became her goal. If noise level were a clue, then the majority of partygoers were still having a very good time. With a small smile, Liz acknowledged the real advantages to this chosen escape niche were it could not be easily seen from the main floor below and the natural seclusion from the one it was on. Tonight, the prestigious museum was closed for this private party. This advance preview of the Cézanne exhibit, which would open tomorrow for the first time to the public, was quite a coup. Such a feat was impressive, she knew, and could only have been accomplished through a donation of a great deal of money and well-placed social and political clout. Her retreat occurred immediately after the company’s CEO, William Waters III, had apologetically dragged away her escort for the evening. Tommy had shrugged back at her as he was escorted away. Simply put, Tommy was the real reason for the party. He had just been hired to their research and development division and would be introduced to all department heads of the company tonight. Liz wasn’t sure what Tommy would do for the company, nor did she know precisely what the company actually did. Tommy had tried to explain it several times, and she had nodded accordingly. She only knew that up until a few weeks ago, Tommy had worked for the government since earning his second PhD two years earlier. She couldn't remember how many undergraduate and Master degrees he’d earned. Sighing deeply, Liz was glad for the silence. “Far from the madding crowds,” she murmured. Leaning heavily on her hand, she smiled. As something cold skimmed up her arm, she jumped in surprise. Turning, she saw the tall, strongly built man who had watched her earlier on the main floor now stood less than a foot away. It hadn’t seemed to matter where she moved throughout the
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party, he was always there. Never too far away, but it had felt like he stared directly at her. Several times she had felt a tingling come over her. Looking up, or sideways, their gazes would meet. Liz dragged her gaze away as quickly as possible, but the truth was that the intervals had started to lengthen. Hating to admit she was unnerved by the attention, and fearful she might like it, she had retreated up here. Being alone was something she was used to and even sought for her work. Fleetingly, she’d hoped she might organize her thoughts about her own show scheduled much too soon. Her heart jumped and butterflies beat their wings wildly in her stomach as she discovered who her intruder was. Immediately, she was aware of a slight sweat breaking out in response to his nearness. This strong reaction was not good. He was the reason she had escaped to the privacy of the balcony. This man was not pretty boy attractive like Tommy was with his sculpted boyish good looks. No, his face was roughhewn, craggy, and his muscular shoulders were hinted at, but well concealed beneath his expensive tuxedo jacket. He was tan, which made his pale green eyes even more startling and commanding. His medium brown hair was kept short and tonight had been lightly gelled into place. He held out the champagne flute. “A glass of overpriced bubbles for your thoughts?” His voice was deep and husky as he made the offer. Her hesitation was obvious, and she very carefully made sure she didn’t touch him, not even just the tip of his fingers. She took a sip gingerly. “Trust me. I’m not offering you the poisoned apple.” She wasn’t surprised when he sat on the bench without being invited a moment later. Damn! Probably in his late thirties, if the wrinkles beside his eyes and the tiniest hint of gray at his temples could be counted on as reliable predictors, everything about him screamed male. While he may not be on a Top 50 Most Beautiful List, he oozed masculine sexuality and magnetism. Hot damn, was he getting to her! She shifted around restlessly on the padded seat. Everything about him was setting her nerve endings on fire. Never had she felt anything like this! She wanted to stand and move away from him, but she fought the urge. Liz didn’t want him to get any ideas he could intimidate her, in any way, shape or form! She refused to allow him…any man, do that to her. The absolute last thing she needed in her life now, of all times, was a man. Pure and simple, she didn’t have time for one! “I’m Marcus Waters. And you are?” He offered his hand in greeting. In spite of her misgivings, she purposefully ignored the bells and whistles in her gut which screamed at her not to, and took his hand. Like a stun gun blast, she felt the jolt of electricity shoot up her arm, across to her spine, and what felt like every other
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nerve ending in her body in a single split second. As if burnt by the brief meeting of flesh, she jerked away her hand, tucking it behind her for a moment. Marcus acted the true gentleman. “Elizabeth Smith,” she told him breathily a few seconds later, hating that she suddenly felt so short of breath. Her cheeks still felt hot from her rude rejection of his simple hello. Unable to ignore the tingles still persisting in her hand, she rubbed it up and down her thigh. Marcus sipped his champagne, the ultimate appearance of calm, cool and collected. “I noticed you came with our new ‘wonder boy genius’ Tommy Geller. I didn’t realize he planned to bring anyone. He had not listed you on the early guest list.” Liz heard the unspoken questions in his simple words. She had seen them on the faces of the many people there tonight, who she had met so far as Tommy’s date. In that brief moment, she realized perhaps she could divert this man by letting him think she and Tommy had not only come to the party as a couple, but were one all the time. Then he might go away before her mind started to listen to the crazy demands of her body. Coughing to clear her throat, she told him, “I wasn’t sure until almost the last minute that I would be free to make it. Several times last night he kept asking—” She let her voice trail away. Once spoken, the words sounded kind of sleazy to her ear. The regret that welled up within surprised her. She saw the barely perceptible straightening of Marcus’ spine her words caused. No one came to a party of this prestige and magnitude at the last minute! And the only reason she had gotten in, since security was so tight, was because she was on the guest of honor’s arm. She watched as the man visibly, and she guessed deliberately, relaxed his posture. She sipped her drink to hide her tiny smile, reluctant to reveal her momentary feeling of glee at one-upmanship. She had slighted his grand party with her words. “Nonetheless, I’m glad you could fit us into your busy schedule, Elizabeth.” He smiled at her, using her first name without invitation. Liz stiffened as he said her name. Something in his tone or the inflection set her nerves further on edge. What she hated the most was the knowing look in the man’s eyes at her response, as if he knew precisely why she had reacted as she had. She doubted it was possible. Still, she sensed that he knew precisely how skittish and nervous she was. Her talent at hiding her emotions was well known among her family, and something she prided herself on. For some reason, her usual cool façade was cracking. “I’ve spent most of the week with Tommy, showing him around, making the necessary introductions to his staff. Funny, though,” Marcus shifted on the bench, and pinned her with his intense gaze. “He never mentioned you.” Liz hid her own pleasure at confounding the man next to her. She guessed Tommy had been extensively investigated, both before and since he had been hired. She also knew the investigations would have revealed he had no girlfriend, fiancée or wife. She
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paused, hoping her words would have extra impact. Something about this man’s knowit-all attitude set her nerves on edge. He was entirely too sure of himself. She had never liked being grilled for information. “I guess it’s not so surprising, Mr. Waters, because Tommy only just moved in with me yesterday. I’m sure he is still getting used to the idea.” Liz enjoyed watching the man stiffen again and then redden in reaction to her words. She knew someone, or several someones, would be yelled at tomorrow for missing that bit of information, for sure. “You and he are living together?” Marcus snapped out the words. His anger surprised him, and not just because their investigative staff had missed this whole relationship information. The kicker was he found himself attracted to this blonde beauty more and more with each passing second. He had imagined himself with her, over the course of the evening, in several positions of interest, none of which had anything to do with conversation or observing the artwork. And nothing at all to do with Tommy Geller. He had noticed her almost the first instant he had seen her, and not just for whom she had accompanied to the party, either. He had taken full note of her curvy body, shown to full advantage in the sexily draped black dress. His gaze lingered long over her full, round breasts, imagining what color they might be, tanned or not? Would her nipples be a pale pink, and how responsive might they be to his touch? Would they peak up from his just talking about them, or only once he had sucked them to hardness? How would those big, round boobs feel in his hands? Firm, soft, or just right? And that nice, round ass, he had wondered, how would it feel as he fucked her doggie style? Would the sound of his balls slapping her sweet pussy with every thrust of his cock in and out of her wet cunt, just make him harder and want her more? And her pussy, he wondered, would she have just a sparse little blonde patch, or a lush, curly rug to stroke his fingers through? Maybe she wasn’t a natural blonde and her bush would be dark? Thoughts like this, plus a need to discover her identity, had driven him in search of her, and he followed each time she darted away almost like a hunted deer. Pondering his question for a ridiculously long and totally unnecessary time, Liz nodded. “Yes, we are living together. I’m sure he’ll notify your personnel office with the address change. I’ll make sure to remind him when we get home tonight.” She had felt the pull of attraction for this man from the instant she first saw him, but she wasn’t sure she even liked him. He was the opposite of everything she had believed her type of man would be. Sensitivity was no doubt a four-letter word in his world. Most likely, no comparison could be made between men she had experienced previously. Despite the fact they were in an art museum, she had yet to see him exhibit the keen affinity or awareness she’d come to know in many men in the art field. If she did have an affair, or even a tryst, she had imagined the man would be dark,
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tempestuous. Her imagined lover would be like Rupert Everett or even Laurence Olivier. Not Marcus Waters, who appeared the exact opposite of the stereotypical artist—he was big, muscular, businesslike…not for her. She liked the idea of putting up a barrier between them. She didn’t think Tommy would mind the small deception. If anything, this is exactly what the younger man wanted. Even though he was five years younger, he still retained his childhood crush on his favorite babysitter. Smiling just a bit, she knew this relational information was not something she wanted to reveal to this man! “I convinced Tommy he’s wasting money staying at the hotel,” she grinned widely. “So, he checked out of the hotel yesterday and brought all his clothing over after work last night. The rest of his stuff is still in storage, of course. We’ll get it all sorted out soon enough.” Liz turned away to hide her face. She’d never been really good at lying. She and Tommy had sorted it out, all right. The majority of his stuff would stay in storage until he could find a decent place here in the city he liked. She didn’t want his old teenage crush suddenly rekindled for something else, which would exist only in his mind. Part of his confusion, as she termed it, she blamed on the fact she was the only person he knew in New York City. If Marcus Waters chose to assume they were living together, well, so be it. “You don’t think he is a little young for you?” His words shocked her out of her brief reverie. She gasped and turned to look at him. There was no way she could hide the shock she felt at his insult. For a few moments she struggled with her thoughts and emotions. If Marcus wanted to think she was living with Tommy, she was okay with that. Normally she wasn’t an age-conscious or worrisome person, but being accused of robbing the cradle… He was as good as calling her old! “How dare you!” She started to rise. Marcus held her tight with his hand clamped hastily around her wrist. He went on holding her bright blue gaze with his green-eyed one. “You are a fairly attractive middle-aged woman. I wouldn’t have thought you felt the need to rob cradles to fill your bed.” He grinned. Liz focused on the words, realizing he had most likely spoken them deliberately to make her angry. “Middle-aged! I’m only thirty!” Her temper flared wildly for a brief moment. Liz stopped abruptly, refusing to be riled by this man. “It is none of your business.” “Everyone who works for my company is my business, Elizabeth. Tommy Geller is going to be involved in very delicate work.” Marcus reached out and took her glass from her limp hand. He drained it and set it on the floor next to his own. He tightened his grip on her wrist and pulled her to stand next to him. Liz tugged against his grasp, but he was much too strong. She found herself dragged behind him, until they stood behind a concealing wall, a short distance from the balcony. He pressed her against the wall. The sounds from the party below seemed
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dimmer now, more distant, almost curiously removed. It made this—the whole interaction with Marcus—surreal, even unreal. A second later, it became completely real as he put his hand beneath her chin, cupped her jaw, and lifted her face to his. He pressed his body against her, and she could feel his thick, hard arousal against her soft lower belly. Dear God! Shock froze her mind. But it was the desire she felt, flooding through her, which caused the fine shivers. How could she be so turned on being manhandled and feeling his desire for her so blatantly. She felt her pussy lips swell, getting wetter as he moved deliberately. Her nipples were taut, hard beads beneath her black dress. For one moment, she wondered if he knew she wasn’t wearing a bra. Two seconds later, the point was moot as Marcus cupped her left breast, holding her gaze intently. There was no denying her reaction to his touch. Her breath caught and then rushed away, as her breast seemed to swell in his grasp, her nipple getting tighter, harder and longer. Suddenly all of her focus was on her breast and how he was making it feel. As her breath sighed away, her eyelids drifted shut. Her heart raced madly, bounding beneath his touch. Fight him!, her brain commanded her hands and arms. Marcus’ fingers stroked her nipple. He slid one strong thigh between hers, pressing upwards, against the juncture of her body. It only took a few seconds for her wetness to seep through both sets of clothing. She looked at him. Could he tell she’d skipped her panties so her dress would lie smooth? Liz hated the small smile curling his sensual mouth as he felt her wetness. There was no way she could deny her arousal, just as he could not deny his. She had been aware of his gaze following her all evening, but she still felt the need to refuse the wild assault of feelings going on inside her. What a fool I’ve been! She should have accepted the feelings and put her energy into fighting, not wasting it on rebuttal. Pressed so intimately against his hardening body, there could be no denial of her feelings now. Still, she shook her head, as if to weaken them to herself, but she stopped as she felt him sliding her dress upwards. He paused, and then tensed against her. She felt his hand move slowly, and then his fingers stopped when he unexpectedly touched bare skin. His hand moved lightly, exploring along her naked thigh, higher to her hip. She was glad he didn’t smile.
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If his mouth curled even the tiniest bit at that moment, she would have hit him. The rasp of a sliding zipper sounded so loud in her ears that she was sure the whole place could have heard it. A crinkle of foil followed. Now was the time to say no! That’s what she wanted to say. How could she think…say anything else? No was logical, right— Her mouth moved soundlessly, but the word that was whispered as a needy sigh was, “Yes.” His hand found her pussy. Damn! This woman was full of surprises, he realized in happy amazement. Marcus stroked her sweet, soft, and completely hairless pussy lips, and then slid his fingers between the wet folds to find her clit. Her body jerked with his exploring touch, and she moaned softly. Her whispered cries only aroused him even more. He suddenly moved her legs and pulled her upwards a bit, and slid his hard cock into her eagerly grasping flesh. He heard the air rush from her lungs even as he felt her body engulfing him so completely. “God!” he groaned as he let her tight, wet flesh absorb all of him. She was so—narrow, close-fitting…snug! Thrusting again in and out, he was stunned at the sensations and feelings overwhelming him simultaneously. This is insane! “Finish me, damn you!” Liz whispered in his ear, her arms clinging to his shoulders. A second later, he felt her lips and then her teeth on his earlobe. “Damn!” he muttered, half in arousal and half in discomfort. He nodded and began a rhythmic thrust, allowing for maximum stimulation. His hands cupped her ass cheeks, moving her body to match his motion. Damn! He was finding it hard to focus and maintain his usual unflappable control, which he normally kept during sex. Women lost control with him, not vice versa. This woman was pushing his buttons, and he hated when that happened. But he loved this! “Pull down your dress, Elizabeth!” Liz shook her head. “What?” She looked at him, her eyes wide open and lips slightly parted like he was crazy. “Pull the top down on this side. I want to see your boob bounce while I fuck you!” “How dare you?” Her gasp was audible. “A little late…ugh. God, woman, you feel sweet! Come on, pretty lady. Show me your lovely boob.” Marcus held still, waiting for her to obey his request. Finally, one hand moved and pulled down the left side of her dress. He watched it strain and pull against her neck,
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but there was just enough stretch in the fabric. Finally, one gorgeous big breast bounced out. “Very nice,” he groaned under his breath. “Pink nipple, hard and eager. I bet it wants to be sucked, don’t you?” He knew her answer instantly. He felt the tension, tightening and the contractions were upon her. The climax shook her body and Marcus held on tightly. He watched her breast bounce and jiggle as her body shook in reaction. Her mouth opened to cry out, and Marcus lowered his to catch and smother her cries of ecstasy. Over and over, her body spasmed around his cock, and the milking pressure was too much. He could wait no more and shot his seed deep into her waiting and eagerly accepting body. His hips jerked and his balls emptied its liquid towards her sweet cunt. Long moments later, his grip loosened, and he let her body slide down. His now soft cock slid out her sopping wet cunt, dripping her liquid down her thighs. Marcus had never, ever done anything like this before. He could just imagine what might happen if someone had seen them! Lost in his thoughts, it took her pushing at him to stop his silent ruminations. He moved back and watched her. Liz hastily slid her skirt over her hips and thighs, trying to conceal herself once more. As if she had forgotten, her hands moved belatedly to her top. Marcus shifted his hands, stopping her. “Just a minute. I believe I owe you something.” He lowered his head even as he slid one hand beneath the exposed breast. Pushing it upwards, his tongue flicked the hard nipple first and then circled it all around. Unable to delay a moment longer, he sucked it deeply into his mouth. As if he could get his life’s sustenance, he drew upon her flesh. Finally, he released the bud by letting it slide out while still sucking. The noise was loud and wet in the immediate silence surrounding them. Plop! As if the noise released them both, he stepped away. He was angry, with her, at himself, and at the world in general right then. He wanted to continue making love, this time horizontally. Instead he righted his clothing, tossing the used condom towards the trash bin a short distance away. He offered her his handkerchief, pulling it from his tuxedo jacket pocket. Liz shook her head, not looking at him. Slowly, feeling like a haze was all around, she rubbed her temples with her fingertips. What have I done? She couldn’t believe what happened. Why didn’t I stop him? She didn’t know him or anything about him. She ignored the handkerchief, angrily pulling her bodice in place, groaning as the tender nipple rubbed against the material. Grimacing, she started to walk away, unsteadily. He grabbed her arm, pressing her back to the wall once again.
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By the look on his face, she knew he shocked them both by his aggressive action. One hand pulled her skirt upwards. She struggled with one free hand to stop him, and then abruptly, she stopped. He pressed his hand between her thighs, right up against her wet pussy. It felt like an hour while he felt her juices, but in reality it was only a few seconds. Liz had the unwise, totally unhealthy, and unbidden wish it was both of their fluids, mingled together, and seeping as a reminder from her now. He held her firmly for a long moment, intimately, his gaze glued to hers. “Remember this,” Marcus growled at her, his hand pressing firmly, intimately and most undeniably against her wet pussy. He moved his fingers and found her clit easily. Liz tried to move away from his hypnotic gaze, but it was impossible. He wiggled his fingers, working her clit until her body demanded release once more. He pushed two fingers into her swollen, wet cunt. Twisting, and pressing, Marcus worked Liz’s limp body to another nerve-racking climax. She felt out of control. He was the puppet master, who gently, carefully and very knowledgably mastered her body. A small part of her brain told her to push him away. Instead, as her body slammed up against another orgasm, she was unable to stop the cry rising from deep within. His lips covered hers as she cried out in uncontrolled and undeniable response. “Remember all of this when you fuck him tonight,” he muttered as he released her mouth. Liz gasped at his words, his touch, and his assumption. She shoved against him, and this time he let her go. She ran away from the balcony, and ostensibly Marcus, but she knew she was really running from her own emotions she didn’t want to feel or acknowledge.
***** Liz returned to the party after spending about fifteen minutes in the restroom drying out her dress. When she finally returned to the main room, she knew she looked a little rumpled, but hoped no one would notice. Her hair was messy and disheveled from rubbing against the wall. She was forced to take it down and finger comb it. She had decided there was no way to get it back up, so she’d left it down. Using some wet paper towels, she’d retreated to one of the stalls, to clean herself as best she could, while fanning her dress to dry it as quickly as possible. Grateful she’d had the foresight to stash a vial of perfume, she lightly squirted it on.
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She wanted to leave the party, but she knew she shouldn’t run out on Tommy. She had promised him she would come with him to this thing, but she doubted she’d last until he was ready to go. She made her way to the bar and ordered herself a gin and tonic. Tossing back her head, she nearly threw the whole thing down her throat and then ordered a second. Taking it, she made her way to where the hors d’oeuvres were being served. She took a plate and began filling it with all kinds of things. Shaking her head in self-deprecation for feeling so hungry, she popped one in her mouth. She felt her cheeks flame as she recalled how many people said they were ravenous right after they’d had sex! A tanned masculine hand took the plate from her nearly lax fingers, interrupting her thoughts. “I thought you had left for the evening.” Liz turned and saw Marcus was the one who had taken her plate, and stood much too close at the moment. “No! I came with Tommy, and I intend leaving with him.” She started to walk away. Marcus grabbed her arm, just as he had earlier. Both looked down at his tanned hand, so big and strong, clasped around her narrower, pale-skinned forearm. She shivered in reaction to his touch, his heat warming her. “Grab your drink!” he told her, his voice obviously not allowing for any argument at the moment. He literally pulled her behind him over to the doors leading to a secluded patio with small tables, which was landscaped like a small garden set between the four different wings of the square museum. He took her over to the farthest table, in the darkest corner. Once he set her plate down, he pulled a chair out for her. Only once she was seated did he release her wrist. Sitting down right next to her, instead of across the table, he took one of the shrimp from her plate, dipping it into the sauce. He bit into it before he spoke. “I can see you get hungry after sex, too.” Liz gasped, but was unable to deny his words, and flushed brightly once more. It was uncanny the way he was echoing her thoughts. She was nervous and unsure, which didn’t happen often to her due to her usually unflappable demeanor. Marcus dipped the rest of the shrimp, smiling. “Since it’s just the two of us and we’ve already been about as intimate as two people can get, I don’t imagine you’d object to a little double dipping, would you?” Instead of popping it into his mouth, he offered it to her. Surprised, and hungry, Liz opened her lips to take it, chewing it slowly. Marcus rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. Liz couldn’t deny the sexual feelings his slightest touch was arousing in her now…still! He offered her another shrimp after she swallowed, and he took a sip of her drink. It all seemed so casual, for two such relative strangers. Strangers who had just had mind-blowing sex!
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“Where did you disappear to?” he asked. Liz took a sip of the drink he had just set down. Since his voice and words had a casual tone, she wasn’t sure what to make of him. “To the restroom because I needed to clean up.” She took a small cracker, which had some kind of elaborate concoction on it, shoving it whole into her mouth. She chewed it with some difficultly. “You still smell like sex, my sweet.” Marcus leaned in close to tell her, smiling. Immediately, Liz coughed and sputtered, choking on the cracker. Marcus pounded her back, offering her a drink. She finally stopped her paroxysm. Pursing her lips, she glared at him. He simply shrugged. “You do, Elizabeth. You smell like wild, passionate, unbridled lust. You make me want to push everything off this table and shove my cock right back into your hot, juicy cunt right here and now.” Liz stared, aware her mouth gaped. She was surprised at how hot his words made her feel, not affronted or embarrassed, as the little voice of guilt told her that’s what a good girl would do. Never in her life had she been this aroused, excited and scared. Not singly and sure as hell not altogether! He leaned forward, his face just inches from her face. “Tell me you don’t want my big, hard cock in you right now!” Liz knew Marcus was watching her face. She was fearful he might read the truth written there. “Can you deny you want me?” His words told her he had. “Can you tell me your tight cunt isn’t crying out for my cock right this very minute?” He shocked and aroused her more with each passing moment. “Are your muscles moving, wanting to suck my manhood inside you again, until you come once more, like a tidal wave washing over you, removing any sense of control you thought you had?” Liz tried to move her head, shake it no, but she couldn’t. His words were making her hotter with each one. Her usually well-maintained demeanor felt like it was slipping, melting away. She did want him, again, a total stranger. Well, not quite a total stranger anymore. But she didn’t want to lose her carefully maintained control— Marcus reached out and laced his fingers with hers, pulling her closer. “Do you know what I want, Elizabeth?” He paused until she shook her head. “I want to feel your pussy again. I want to feel those smooth lips. I nearly lost control when I first felt that shaved pussy of yours, my sweet. What a surprise!” Liz flushed bright pink. Never before had she done anything like this or discussed such things with anyone. Who was this woman? “I had been fantasizing over your pussy fur, wondering if you had just a sprinkling of hair or real plush shag of blonde down there. Was I going to be able to comb my fingers through it? And then to find you shaved… it took all I had to hold back.”
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Liz had lowered her head, and he tilted it back up so he could look into her eyes. “I’d like to lay you out on this table here, with your skirt shoved up to your waist so I could look at your bald pussy, rubbing my fingers all over you. And then, slowly, I would tug the top of your dress down, until your big, luscious boobs popped out.” He paused. Liz tried to stop her restless movements. God! Had he felt her shiver of reaction to his words? Surely he had not realized her deep dark secret. Please, God…no! “So the ice queen enjoys a secret no-no.” Marcus leaned closer. “It appears the icy maiden melts when she is being talked dirty to, doesn’t she?” Liz froze, unable to look away as Marcus continued. She felt his breath brushing across her cheek. “I like big boobs, and I bet yours are fabulous. I would grab hold of them and squeeze you, massaging until your nipples were hard little points, begging for my mouth to suck them. Tell me, do your nipples get long and pointy when they are sucked?” His hand moved from her chin, down her neck, and cupped her breast. Her nipple was already hard and tight for him. He plucked at it with his fingertips, rolling it. “Do you like having your boobs played with while your nipples get sucked?” Liz tried to shake her head negatively, but she couldn’t move, other than the fact her body shook in reaction to his words. “I’d stand between your widespread thighs and feel your cunt gushing forth as my cock prodded its way forward. I’d slip my hard rod into you. You are so wet. I just glide in. My hands grab your hips, and I start thrusting against you. Hard, really hard. I look down and see your boobs jiggling and bouncing with every thrust. Your nipples are getting even longer, and I haven’t even sucked them yet.” Marcus lowered his voice, and Liz felt each word as if it were a caress across her fevered skin. “I feel your cunt squeeze me, pulling me in with your every movement. You are matching your rhythm to mine, hearing the slap of my balls against your luscious round ass, with each thrust I make. It sounds loud, wet, in the quiet of the night. Over and over we go, thrusting, squirming, wiggling all around, and trying to climb the mountain. I move one hand down to your wonderful, responsive clit.” Liz caught her breath, holding it and then releasing it in a rush. “I touch it, and then begin fingering it, over and over, matching my thrusts,” Marcus continued speaking softly. “And then, when I think I can hold back no longer, I absolutely have to fill you with my cum…I tell you to come now. It’s okay to release your hold and let it flow over you. You are protected and know it’s safe to stop controlling your emotions. Then I feel your body climaxing around mine. Your muscles are sucking my cock, milking me, until I shoot streams of hot cum into your already juicy cunt.”
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Marcus held her gaze with his. “I lower myself to lie over you, my head pillowed on your magnificent boobs. I take one nipple into my mouth, and let my tongue toy with it, licking it, stroking around it. And then, finally, my limp cock slides out of your cunt. In the silence, we hear the ‘plop, plop’ as my seed leaks out of you, and falls to the concrete below. God, what an erotic sound! Knowing you are so full of my sperm that it is leaking out already makes us both hot and aroused.” “Finally, I move and pull you to sit on the table, in front of me. We both look down and can see you are still leaking cum, and we know we can’t go back to the party now. I help you stand, smoothing your dress down over your hips, and then, quite reluctantly, I let you pull your dress up to cover your tits. I can’t resist though, sucking your nipple into my mouth one more time. When I lift my head, we both see the wet spot on your dress. I’ll just have to take you home, to my place, where we’ll spend the rest of the night naked, and making love, over and over in my bed.” Marcus reached out, stroked his fingers over her mouth, parting it gently. “Tell me, Elizabeth, are you still dripping from earlier?” His touch, his words, the look in his eyes, so intense, was incredibly arousing. He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I’m dying to kiss your mouth, to taste your essence—” “There you are, Liz! I’ve been looking all over for you.” Liz and Marcus both jumped in their seats, turning to see Tommy just a few steps away. The younger man smiled at Marcus. “Thanks for looking after my date. I really appreciate it, Marcus. Your dad has dragged me to everyone he thought I should meet.” Tommy moved close to Liz and draped his arm over her shoulders. He placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Hey, what happened to your hair? I like it up.” Liz couldn’t stop the bright flush staining her cheeks. “I had a headache so I took it down.” Tommy laughed and stroked his hand over the silky, golden waterfall of her hair. “Well, maybe I really like it better this way because it’s much more touchable.”
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Chapter Two Marcus bit back a groan of jealousy, at seeing the casual, easy way the younger man touched Liz. He picked up the drink from the table and finished it. As he turned back, he saw Tommy lightly toy with a strand of her hair. A simple gesture, and yet to him it looked like such an intimate act that he wanted to hit the younger man just then. The feelings of jealousy surprised him. He looked over and saw Liz was looking straight at him. He couldn’t read the expression on her face, though. Liz turned to glance up at Tommy. “I’m feeling kind of tired, Tommy. Do you think it would be all right if we left soon?” Tommy shrugged. “I guess so.” Marcus saw his opportunity and struck like a cobra. “You probably should stay, Tommy. The party has just gotten started, and I’m sure there are even more people arriving Dad will want you to meet.” He paused as he saw the indecision on the younger man’s face. “Tell you what. I’ll take Ms. Smith home. I doubt anyone will miss me for a little while, after all, I’m not the ‘toast’ of the party.” Tommy laughed and nodded at the older man’s words. Liz’s fear was evident on her face. Marcus was determined to proceed, as she no doubt was equally set to subvert any further interventions. “I can take a cab home, and this way no one has to miss the party,” she offered quickly, looking from Tommy to Marcus. Marcus reached out and took her arm in his hand once again. The effect of his warm hand curved around her arm, pressing against the more tender skin on the inside, was instantaneous. Her arousal was full-bloomed and wild. Without a doubt, she knew if she wasn’t careful, she could get used to his touch, even addicted. Liz saw the doubt on Tommy’s face and realized Marcus had his objections covered as well when he spoke a moment later. “Of course, you won’t take a taxi home, Liz. It’s no trouble at all. Why, no one will even know I’m gone.” He pulled Liz a few steps away. Tommy nodded. “Okay, well, I’ll be real quiet when I get in so I don’t wake you up.” Liz barely had time to nod her head before Marcus was walking her off in the direction of the exit. Only a few moments later, and they were seated, to her complete surprise, in the back of a limousine.
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“It’s my father’s car,” he explained as he held the rear door open. He gave some directions to the driver after Liz gave him her apartment address and then settled onto the seat beside her. Liz couldn’t help but notice the divider between the driver and themselves was not only up, but was deeply shaded. This time of night, it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes to reach her place. Ten minutes, she told herself silently. That’s all she had to be strong for— She cleared her throat nervously. “Well, this way you should be back to the party in no time at all.” The last word ended in a squeak as she felt Marcus’ fingers lightly stroking down the side of her neck. “Please—” Marcus moved closer and kissed the side of her neck lightly. “Please, what? Please touch you. Please caress you. Please kiss you. Or just simply please you.” One hand tangled in her hair and turned her face to his. He held her gaze until the moment before his lips touched hers. Lips that parted of their own accord, accepting—no, they welcomed him eagerly— his tongue. He kissed her hotly, thoroughly, before his mouth slid down the side of her throat. Her skin was caught lightly in his teeth and lips and then gently sucked. Liz moaned softly as she felt him drawing the tender skin between his lips and teeth. She feared he was marking her pale skin with such a kiss. Somehow, she knew in her soul that was his goal…to mark her. Claim her. Marcus lifted his head, surprised at the primitive feelings rushing through him. He wanted others to know she had been in the arms of a lover just a short time earlier. His one hand moved from her shoulder down over her upper chest, to find her farthest breast. He cupped it eagerly, massaging the firm globe. “I can’t tell you how hot I was sitting at that damn table, just talking about doing it on the table. I wanted nothing more than to match my actions to my words.” Marcus tugged on her dress, and the zipper opened, allowing it to slide down. Before she could move, or lift her hands, he had her dress pulled down. He flicked an overhead switch and suddenly there was a dim light above them. Marcus caught his breath, looking at the incredibly beautiful display of her breasts, cupped slightly by the black material of her dress bunched below them. Before she could slide her arms free from their entrapment at her sides, his hands covered her breasts, squeezing them, molding them to his eager touch. He lightly ran his hands over each individually, before he let his fingers stroke across her hard nipples. “God, honey! You are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” He turned her on the seat, her arms still held down by her dress, until she was lying on the seat, beneath him. He rested heavily between her now-widespread thighs, her dress halfway up. Liz opened her mouth. 18
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Then he lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth. As he licked the hard nubbin with his tongue and rolled it ‘round and ‘round, his hands cupped and pushed her breasts upwards. Finally, he sucked her deeply into the heat of his mouth. As he moved to her other breast, his hands moved her skirt up the rest of the way so it was bunched up at her waist as well as below her breasts. Eagerly, he ran his hands over her legs and finally to her inner thighs, and up until he caressed her shaven pussy lips once again. He found her clit easily and touched it lightly, teasingly, before sliding first one, then two, fingers inside her. Slowly, carefully, he worked his magic on her, in the backseat of his father’s limousine, driving through the dark streets of the city. The traffic sounds faded as he focused on Liz. He could feel her body coil tighter and tauter like a stretched rubber band as he continued to touch her, caress her. Soft cries of passion and need kept coming from within her, as her body writhed beneath him. He sensed she was ready to spring forth in release. He curled his finger forward, while working her clit more gently, and raised his head. Carefully, he watched her, seeing her aroused emotions chasing one another across her face and feeling her excited body around his fingers. Each bump in the road seemed to aid his pursuit of her climax. And then, he found that perfect spot, deep inside her. Liz cried out as the rubber band that was her tight nerves snapped, gushing forth her love fluids, covering his fingers and hand. “God! You look so beautiful when you come! Now, I need to know…I’ve just had a clean bill of health and I am disease free. You’ve probably heard this before, but I swear, I am clean. I don’t have another condom. Is it safe, for you?” He watched her face closely, knowing if she said it wasn’t then he would have to stop. It wouldn’t be easy, but he would do it. “Yes,” came her whispered reply. Marcus adjusted his clothing and, in one move, slid into her still spasming body. His thrusts were slow at first, letting her body calm and slow down. He lowered his head to kiss her mouth and then to suck the side of her neck again. He could feel her body responding, her hips matched his movements, thrust and withdrawal, over and over. He wanted her to come again, with him inside her. Deliberately, he kept the pace slow in spite of her trying to draw him into her body. His forehead grew sweaty as he strove to keep control, but suddenly, the car hit a bump in the road— Liz climaxed again, hard and fast, her inner muscles spasming and sucking his cock deeper into her body, not releasing him. Over and over, she climaxed around his cock this time, milking him dry, until he shot hot jets of cum deep inside her body. How long they lay like that, neither could have said, but he finally became aware the car had been stopped for a while. He realized they must be at her apartment.
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“Damn!” Marcus muttered as he struggled upright off her limp body. But as he moved to adjust his own clothing, she surprised him by her swiftness. Like a flash, it seemed, she pulled down her skirt, and the top up. Adjusting closures with fingers that didn’t appear to be working very well, she had then flung open the door. She ran barefoot to where the doorman had swung open the door for her and was through it in a second. He should have gone in with her, he realized with a start. To hell with the party…to hell with everything, he thought. What he wanted was her, and only her, just then. He had been living the last seventeen-odd years of his life solely for the company. He had done anything and everything for the company. He had even married once for the company, and that ended in sheer disaster. But right now, all he cared about was the woman he had just made love to in the back of his father’s limo. He couldn’t stop the huge grin spreading over his face. Suddenly, he felt like a kid in high school, fucking in the backseat of his old man’s sedan. He also knew none of the pristine girls from the private schools he had attended would have dared do such a thing. Not the sex, just not get mussed up. That was the sin, in their world. He pressed the buzzer and told the chauffeur to head back to the party, after all. As he got out of the car a short time later, he handed the chauffeur Liz’ shoes and asked him to hold them on the front seat. The chauffeur, being well trained and very well paid, concealed the smile as he took the shoes.
***** Marcus wandered the party for a while, and when he saw their head of security, he called him over. He gave Phil Guerrero Liz’s name and address and requested for her to be checked out as quickly as possible. He’d like a report, even if just preliminary, on his desk by noon tomorrow. The other man nodded and then hurried off to start his investigation. Marcus soon saw his father was once again talking to Tommy Geller. His mother had joined them, so he strolled over also. He heard his parents inviting the young man to their weekend seaside home. Marcus nodded his agreement and added smoothly, “And Tommy, make sure you invite Elizabeth to come along also. She might enjoy some time away from the city.” He would also make sure Tommy and Liz had separate bedrooms, at opposite ends of the house. Catherine Waters echoed his suggestion quickly. “Please do, Tommy. I would very much like to get to know Liz better. She seems like a lovely young woman. Earlier, we barely had a chance to talk but I really want to learn more about her work.”
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Tommy nodded, wondering how he might talk Liz into going away with him, sort of, for the weekend. He had known her for most of his life. She had been his babysitter up until she had left for college. Having a genius IQ, he was in college at the time, but he still didn’t deny he needed someone to sit with him at times when his parents were out, so long as the “someone” was Liz. And so, he had bid a very tearful goodbye to her at the age of thirteen, wondering if he would ever see the woman of his dreams again. Of course, her parents still lived next door to his, but still it had not dimmed his tragic view of his situation, at such a tender age. And now, thanks to their parents, Liz had agreed to watch out for him on his first trip to the “big city”. And a little moaning about the cost of things in the city, and Liz had asked him to move in with her until he could find a reasonable place. Now, he hoped it would be only a matter of time until he could persuade her of his charms, and— His boss, Bill Waters, interrupted his thoughts. “That will be real nice, having someone not in the business for you to spend time with, Cath. It’s a shame she had to leave so early, though.” Tommy nodded. Marcus agreed, lightly slapping Tommy on his shoulder. “I think she was feeling a bit better by the time I got her home. She rested in the car, and it helped her relax. She probably just had a tension headache.” He knew he certainly felt better after their so-called rest in the car. “How about I take Tommy around for a while and introduce him to people you missed? This way you can dance with Mother a few turns before you have a chance to say your feet have given out!” His mother laughed and wasted no time taking her husband’s arm. “I like that idea. I’ll set him free after two dances and he can find you both then.” She didn’t wait and dragged her husband to the area set aside for dancing during the party this evening. As soon as they were alone, Marcus turned to the younger man. “How about we head to the bar and give all this socializing a miss for a while?” Tommy laughed, relaxing. “Sounds good to me.” A few minutes later, the two men were standing alone, looking out at the night sky. Marcus sipped his drink slowly. “Are you still living in the hotel, Tom?” Tommy shook his blond head. “No, actually I moved out yesterday. I’m living with Liz now. She has a great apartment, a co-op. I think she bought into it a few years ago.” Marcus nodded. “Ah, so how did you two meet?” “I’ve known her most of my life. Our families lived next door to each other, still do. I contacted her when I knew I was moving up here. We took up right where we left off, almost as if we hadn’t been apart these last few years. Liz is a great girl.”
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“She certainly is good-looking, albeit a few years older than you, of course,” Marcus said slowly, still unable to discern a lot from what Tommy had told him so far. He paused and gave Tommy a piercing look for a moment, before going on. “I’m sure you’ve become aware of the company’s strong encouragement and support towards a man being married and settled.” Tommy flushed and nodded his head. “I’ve heard a lot of talk, and just about every man I’ve met so far is married, or engaged. One of the fellas told me about the on-site daycare.” “Uh, yeah. This way we support both mothers and fathers.” Marcus cleared his throat. The daycare thing had distracted him for a moment. It had been his mother’s suggestion, but he had overseen the setup, from first feasibility studies, right through to when the first child came through the door. He was rather proud of the accomplishment. “The company feels a married man is more stable, and definitely happier, which, of course, benefits the company.” He wondered if—no, he hoped—by pushing this subject, he could make the younger man turn tail and run from his lovely roommate. Tommy started to bob his head in agreement, but stopped abruptly. “How come you aren’t married then?” Surprised at the question, Marcus laughed. “I was. The bride was my father’s choice, even. Until he got to know her, that is. I think he was more eager to divorce her from the family than I was.” He sipped his drink. “Since then, my father has left the subject of my marrying again alone.” Unbidden, the thought popped into his head what his father might think about Elizabeth as a future daughter-in-law. Startled by the way his thoughts were forming, he shook his head as if to chase them away. Bemused, he heard himself ask. “Is Liz marriage material?” Tommy laughed nervously. “I certainly think so. Of course, we have only really just gotten back together—” He let it sound like he and Liz had been a couple in the past and were headed in that direction once again. Of course, he knew better. Liz still saw him as the younger kid living next door who she used to watch. But he had high hopes of changing her mind about all that. And since she had invited him to move in with her, with some not-so-subtle hints from himself about the high cost of living, loneliness in a new place and a phone call home begging his folks to call the Smiths, he saw no reason for them not to proceed to a real relationship. She was the sexiest woman he had ever met. “She is a beautiful woman,” Marcus said softly, almost as if he read the other man’s thoughts. Tommy nodded. “God, is she ever! She gets me hot just watching her across the room.” He stopped abruptly, thinking he had probably said too much. Just then, a man came up to them. Marcus introduced him as the head of their security. Tommy shook the other man’s hand. 22
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Phil Guerrero turned immediately to Marcus. He handed him a small white envelope. “I’ll have more for you by tomorrow, Marcus.” Marcus wanted to open the envelope right then, but he saw his father walking over to them. He tucked the envelope into his coat pocket and smiled as he greeted his father. Tommy was led away once again by the older man. Marcus barely waited until he was alone before ripping the envelope open. He scanned it quickly for it didn’t contain much information. He saw her address, which she had given him earlier. He was glad to see her phone number and noted beside it, in parentheses, was the fact it was unlisted. Marcus shook his head ruefully. Damn, Guerrero was good at what he did. He read on and saw she had not purchased her co-op, but received it in a transfer a few years earlier, was thirty, single, never married, no children. He looked for where she worked, but didn’t see any employer or corporation listed. He folded the paper and returned it to his pocket. Several hours later, Marcus watched as the last of the guests left. His father was still holding on to Tommy, but he told his parents he was tired and taking off. He had them bring around his own car this time, leaving the limo for his parents. He had not driven far, when he pulled out his cellular phone and dialed the unlisted phone number he had already committed to memory. He listened as the phone rang once, twice, three times. “Hullo?” he heard Liz say sleepily into the phone. Surprised to find her asleep, he asked her softly, “What are you wearing?” Her gasp sounded loudly in his ear. “How did you get my number?” Marcus smiled, imagining her consternation at the moment. “In my business, we always have ways to get information. Now, what are you wearing?” Silence greeted his question. He half expected her to hang up on him. Of course, he would just dial right back. He heard the rustling of sheets and wondered if she was getting out of bed. Liz grunted. “I’m surprised your little spy didn’t find that out for you also,” she quipped back at him. Marcus chuckled softly in reply. “I’m not letting another man see you even partially naked. The party will be ending soon and I wanted to call you before he got back there.” He paused. “So, what are you wearing?” “Is this how you do business? You wear your enemies down?” “Sometimes. But I don’t see them as my enemies, Elizabeth. In business, I keep things professional at all times.” He waited for her to answer. “Nothing,” she finally whispered into the phone. Marcus caught his breath. Damn! He hadn’t expected to hear that. The lady was full of surprises without a doubt. Yet, on the surface she looked so cool, calm, almost like a
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frozen lake, as if a ripple across the smooth surface was unheard of, totally alien. “I should have followed you up those stairs to your apartment earlier.” He groaned out loud, unable to stop from voicing his thoughts. “I should be lying beside you right now, naked. I can imagine how warm and cozy it would be…in your bed, between—” Again there was a long silence, and he could hear Liz breathing through the earpiece. For a few tense seconds he wondered if he’d gone too far in what she’d let him say to her. He wasn’t normally a practitioner of phone sex, but this felt too right to be wrong. “Why didn’t you, um, follow me?” she asked softly. God! The woman was driving him crazy. Marcus pulled into his slot in the parking garage and turned his car off. “Where are you?” she asked. Marcus remained silent because he couldn’t say why he hadn’t followed her. All of his gut instincts had told him to go after her. A minute or so passed before he quietly replied. “I’m in the parking garage below my apartment.” He pressed a button and his seat slid back farther and he stretched his legs out. “I want you, Liz.” His words hung heavily between them. He probably should have kept quiet. Maybe it wasn’t smart, revealing how much he was attracted so early in their relationship. Damn! Relationship! He just met the woman. What the hell was he doing to think of her in terms of relations, which meant a “couple”? That meant commitment…he sure as hell wasn’t thinking in those terms. He hardly knew the woman— Through the receiver he could hear rustling of covers and he wondered if it meant she was restless. Could he be the cause of her inability to be still and settle back to sleep? Curse of death to any…he mentally stumbled over the R-word. Quickly he figured he’d been too sensitive and he needed to set it straight again by being the opposite. “Even if I fucked you every hour, I would still need one more before I left in the morning,” he spoke to her again. “Shall I tell you what I would do if I were next to you right now, Liz, in your bed?” He listened as the rhythm and depth of her breathing changed suddenly. He waited though, wondering if she would even answer him. Long seconds passed, and then he heard her softly whisper the expected, and even hoped for, reply. He almost groaned out loud. Part of his brain told him to be rational and realize he had the upper hand in this so-called relationship. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The rest of him, about ninety-nine percent of his body and remaining brain said—“screw the waiting shit”. He had this totally hot woman who was talking sexily to him on his phone. And this was after some mind-blowing sex. Hot damn!
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Forcing a deep breath, he told her, “I’d be naked next to you. I could feel the heat from your body even if you were standing three feet away from me, I think. On the bed, though, we are close. You are lying on your back. Tell me, Elizabeth, are you on your back now?” More rustling sounded and then, “Yes, I am,” she whispered back to him. Marcus smiled in the dark. It made him a little crazy to know she was doing what he said. He didn’t feel powerful, the puffed-up kind. Instead he had this intense need to please her, pleasure her, as his first concern. “Lying next to you,” he whispered. “I would lift my hand and smooth your hair back from your face. My finger skims down over your forehead, your nose and onto your mouth. I circle around your mouth, marveling at its softness. Your lips would part and I couldn’t resist slipping my finger into your mouth. You surprise us both by sucking on my finger.” He stopped as he heard the soft gasp through the receiver on the phone. “Put your finger in your mouth and suck it. Pretend it is my finger. Suck it softly at first and then harder, faster. There…do you feel the pull? That is how it feels when I’m inside you.” He heard the plopping noise of her finger being pulled from her mouth rapidly and another gasp. He didn’t acknowledge her action, but went on, speaking softly into the phone. “I’d take my finger from your mouth, all wet, and trace around your nipple. It gets nice and tight for me, the wetness making it peak up even more. Will you touch your nipple for me, Elizabeth? Please—” Liz was breathing fast. Marcus could hear it through the phone. He was surprised she was still listening. With his eyes closed, he imagined her hand moving to her breast, circling the nipple just as he had described. “I’d flick your nipple with my fingertip, before I finally pinched it lightly, tugging on your breast. I’d pull, lifting your large breast free of your chest, and then suddenly, I’d let go.” He heard her gasp. “I like watching your lovely boobs bounce and jiggle. And you quickly learn that you like when I play with your breasts. It turns you on, doesn’t it?” He barely heard her softly whispered, “Yes.” His free hand moved to stroke his restricted cock. God! He was getting hard just talking. “Move your hand down over your tummy for me, honey. I want to feel your smooth pussy again.” He waited a moment. “I nearly lost it when I felt your shaved pussy tonight, darling. Talk about an automatic comer! Are you wet?” He stroked his cock through his pants, imagining her hand traveling over her body, down to her widespread thighs. Would her pussy still be damp from their earlier lovemaking? “Are you still wet, baby? Or did you douche yourself when you got home to get rid of all signs of me and our fuck? Did you take a shower to wash my scent off your skin?” 25
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He couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice at the thought of her eagerly rinsing away every trace of him so Tommy wouldn’t know she’d been unfaithful. “No. I didn’t shower or anything. I just went straight to bed.” Her words, so simple, so innocently spoken went straight to his core. It made him more aroused to know she went to bed, still smelling of their lovemaking earlier. “I…I’m still wet, from before,” she added, her voice getting even softer. “I wanted to feel it, running out me.” “God! Liz, you are driving me crazy! I want to be inside you right now.” He quickly slid the zipper on his trousers down, and then fumbled slightly in his rush to release his cock from his briefs. Stroking his rod faster now, he imagined himself inside her hot, sweet cunt. “Tell me, baby. What do you want?” Marcus waited, unsure whether she’d take the lead, to pleasure him. He heard her breathing change, become shallower. “I want you…with me—” she whispered into the darkness of his world. Her words, so much simpler than his own, were still more potent than anything he’d heard before, he realized. Then so softly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her, she added, “Inside me.” “God, Liz, honey… I am so hard right now. Are you touching yourself? Touch your clit for me. I want to hear you cry out, like you did earlier… Please, baby—” He waited, rubbing his own burgeoning cock faster and faster, losing sight of where he was at that moment. “Come for me, baby. Come for me like you did earlier. Drench those fingers of yours like you did my cock—” “Ooooohhhh, oh my God!” He heard her cry over the phone’s airwaves. So clear was it she might have whispered close enough to stir his hair with her breath. It was enough. He came fast and hard, right there in his very expensive sports car, in the middle of the parking garage. Completely rattled, Marcus sat stunned for several long moments. He could hear her harsh breathing coming through the phone, matching his own. “Honey?” Marcus said after using his handkerchief to clean up. “Are you still there?” Liz’s voice was dry, cracking when she replied. “Yes, I’m still here. I can’t believe I did this.” Her voice trailed away. Marcus smiled. He could choose to not say anything and let her think she had been alone during those intense moments, but he didn’t. “Me either, babe. My car just got christened as it never had before.” Silence followed his words as their meaning must have slowly sunk into Liz’ still sleep-racked brain. He heard a soft chuckle. Then he knew he had said the right thing. He thought he could hear a smile in her voice when she spoke a second later. “I certainly hope you aren’t parked near any of those hidden cameras. That certainly would give the attendants something to chatter about tomorrow.”
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Marcus laughed out loud. “I hope not also. I guess I am going to have to let you go though. I really need to get upstairs. Knowing my dad, he’ll probably give me a call before he goes to bed. Sometimes he likes to rehash these parties. Before I go, though, will you promise me one thing?” He could almost hear her thinking over the phone. Finally, she replied. “Okay, but it depends on what it is.” He knew he shouldn’t bring it up, but the thought was killing him just then. “Promise me you won’t let him—” He stopped to change his words. “Promise me you won’t let him have you tonight.” Silence once again followed his words. He waited tensely for her reply, not even knowing why he had wanted her to promise such a thing. He had never cared before if a woman left him and went home to a husband, a different lover. But this time, it did. Finally, he could wait no longer. “Please, Liz—” His plea, so soft, so unexpected, shocked her. “Yes,” she whispered over the phone. “I won’t.” She bit her tongue, almost blurting out there was nothing like that between her and Tommy, but she didn’t. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he told her softly. “Okay, I have to get upstairs. I’ll see you this weekend. Bye.” Liz stared at the dead phone in her hand. Why had he said he would see her this weekend? He had not even said he would call her. She shook her head, more at her own behavior, and hung the phone up. The change in the tone of his voice had been full of vigor and masculinity, once she had agreed to his request. No doubt he was ebullient from imagining he had some kind of hold on her. Well, he had a big surprise coming if he thought he could control her. No man would direct her life or change her life’s ambitions. On that point she was determined. Her mother’s family had a long tradition of marrying early and spending their lives at their husbands’ beck and call. Neither her mother nor either of her aunts seemed to object. No one had ever rebelled. She’d seen plenty of evidence in her maternal cousins before she left for college. Her mother had been was the youngest of three girls. As Liz grew up, she witnessed how each of her aunts’ daughters had married shortly after leaving high school. Not one of her cousins, the girls anyway, had talked about going to college. When she thought back on her upbringing, she couldn’t see any difference between her cousins’ and her life experiences. Her father and uncles had all attended the same high school as the women, and each teenaged boy had gone onto college, even though they were married. She had little doubt if her life had not taken an abrupt U-turn, she would be married with three point two children herself right now.
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Just then she heard the front door open and she knew Tommy had returned home. Pushing her thoughts aside, Liz pulled her blankets up and over her head. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with all these crazy emotions. No doubt by morning, she would realize the futility of how impossible it truly all was. While she might live in New York City and attend such posh parties occasionally, she was still a girl from a small town. The truth was simple—she had nothing in common with a man like Marcus Waters. And that was just how she wanted it! Sleep didn’t come easily because deep down she was already acknowledging she wanted much more than just having things in common with Marcus Waters.
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Chapter Three Liz was seated at her desk the next day, Thursday, when she heard the front door open. Tommy called out her name, like he usually did. “In the studio, Tommy. Come on in.” She didn’t look up as she heard him enter the studio. Working without any real production all day did not make her happy. The majority of her day had spent lost in daydreams about the previous night’s encounters. She had deadlines to meet— “How about pizza for supper?” he asked. Liz nodded, still focused on her drawing. “That should be fine. I’ve got some frozen or we can order in.” Tommy moved over to perch on the stool at the side of the table. “Let’s order in, my treat. Do you feel like breadsticks with some cheese sauce tonight?” Liz looked up at him, smiling. “Some things never change, do they? I remember always having them whenever I’d sit for you.” “Except now I have beer with my pizza instead of soda.” “Suit yourself, Tommy, I’m sticking to soda. I need a clear head. Perhaps I’ll eat in here. There is a lot to get done before the show, and if I work through tonight, I might get another piece done.” “Um, that reminds me of something which came up last night after you left.” Liz stiffened almost unconsciously. She was sure he couldn’t know about her tryst with his boss’ son. “So what happened?” she prodded him carefully. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Tommy knowing about her interactions with Marcus— Interactions! She half smiled at her use of the word. How silly to think of those passionate moments with such a tame, businesslike term! “Mr. Waters invited us to his weekend house at the ocean.” Tommy picked up two of her colored pencils, idly tapping on her desk. Liz looked up from her drawing, meeting her new roommate’s gaze. She frowned. “Us?” “Yes. His wife really wants you to come. She liked you and would like to get to know you better.” Liz slowly laid down her pencil. For a moment, her stomach had turned over. She had assumed Tommy’s referral to Mr. Waters to mean Marcus, and the mention of “his wife” upset her more than she would like to admit. “Why would she want to get to
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know me better? There isn’t any reason for us to ever meet. I didn’t meet her last night, after all.” “Sure, you did. Waters introduced you when we first arrived.” She paused, guessing Tommy’s wrinkled brow meant he thought she’d lost her mind. “Marcus’ wife?” “What? No, stupid! Old man Waters.” Tommy shook his head. Liz grabbed the pencils out of his hands. “I was referring to Marcus.” The younger man laughed. “He isn’t married.” He shook his head at her while he busied himself tapping with just his fingers. She guessed something was going on, especially when she spied a flush move up his neck. “Okay, spill it, Tommy. What happened?” “Well,” Tommy paused. “They assumed you are my girlfriend.” He quickly looked away from her gaze. “I see. And you didn’t say anything to dissuade them either, I’m guessing, huh?” She smiled slowly, shaking her head. No reason to disclose her little lie to Marcus, she rationalized the same as she had done most of the day. “I was there with the best-looking woman at the party. I, um—” Liz reached over and patted his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Now about this weekend, though. I’m not so sure that is a good idea.” She replaced the pencils she’d taken from his hands, returning them to a cup on her desk. “Aw, please, Liz. He’s my new boss, after all—” Liz finally nodded. “All right, when do we leave?” She heard the reluctance in her voice, amazed at her ability to act. Most surprising was the frisson of excitement she could feel building inside her at the thought of spending the weekend with Marcus. “Early. Mr. Waters said for me to leave work at noon, pick you up and then drive up. He gave me written directions today.” “Okay. I’ll be packed and ready to go when you get here. Have your bag packed and by the door, and I’ll tote it down for you when you get here. That would save you a trip up here.” Tommy jumped up and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Great! And thanks. This will help me get in good with the boss. I know we’ll have a good time there. Oh, and I might come up and change clothes, or even just grab a snack. I’ll go order the pizza.” “Make sure you get the car checked before we get on the road. If you decide you want to keep a car in the city, you may want to retire your old clinker.” “Hey! I love that old car of yours. It only has two hundred thousand or so miles on it. But hey, I’ll get it checked out. I promise. I’ll let you know when dinner is here.” Liz looked back down at the cute little characters on her paper. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to know if the Waters’ son was going to be there or not. She didn’t
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want to acknowledge her feelings on the subject, either way. And the last thing she needed was to do anything to fuel these exhausting dreams.
***** Liz was packed and sat near the front door shortly after noon on Friday. Tommy’s bag was next to hers. A short time later, she was surprised to hear the buzzer instead of the front door open. Right before bed last night, Tommy had come in to say he would be up to change clothes. She answered it. Tommy voice came across the intercom loud and clear. “Can you come on down, Liz? I don’t need anything else from the apartment.” “Are you sure, Tommy? I assumed you’d want to change your clothes to get comfortable, or—” “No, no, it’s okay. Our plans have changed just a little.” Shaking her head ruefully, she slung one bag over each shoulder. She picked up her small portfolio, packed with her paper and pencils, in case she got some free time alone. There was always a chance she’d get a fantastic idea and have to work it out. Down in the lobby, she smiled at the doorman, who offered to take the bags for her. She shook her head. “I’ve got it all balanced at this point. Thanks.” She sailed through the glass doors, starting down the steps to where she saw Tommy standing. She stopped dead a second later when she saw just beyond him stood Marcus. He leaned casually against a dark green, very expensive foreign car. Marcus straightened as he met her gaze, a slow smile curving his lips. Tommy grinned. “A funny thing happened, Liz. I was telling Marcus I needed to get the old car checked out and all for the trip. Well, Marcus suggested we all ride down together.” “Wasn’t that nice of him?” she murmured, unable to look away from Marcus’ gaze. Dimly she realized Tommy was still talking. “And then he suggested I drive his car…isn’t that great? I’d never been in a sports car like this until he drove me over here. This car is fantastic.” Liz half heard what Tommy said, more aware of Marcus and what he was doing. Marcus reached out to take the bags from her unresisting grip. He put them in the trunk, offering to take the portfolio too. Liz gave it up more slowly. She was always protective of her art materials. Marcus then tossed the keys quite casually to Tommy. He held open the passenger door, pulling the seat back forward so Liz could slide onto the rear seat. To her complete surprise, he followed her, forcing her to scoot over behind Tommy’s seat. Tommy busily fiddled with adjusting the seat, the mirrors. Marcus jokingly told him, “Captain, your passengers are ready and cleared for takeoff.”
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Tommy laughed and eased the powerful car slowly out into traffic. Liz sat stiffly as Marcus directed him on a few things, telling him how to have the radio just play to the front seats only. They were on the freeway a short time later, Tommy giving all his attention to the car and traffic. She knew he had never driven a car this powerful or this expensive before. Liz was intently aware of when Marcus turned to look at her. He shifted and raised his arm to rest on the top of the seat behind her. He spoke softly. “With the music directed to the front seat only, Tommy shouldn’t be able to hear us. You look beautiful, Elizabeth.” Liz shook her head. She wore old jeans, a sweatshirt which said “Artists do it with color” and sneakers. She had assumed they would be casual, and this was her idea of it. She had some doubts, though, seeing both men still wearing business suits. Marcus leaned closer and whispered, “I keep remembering the other night. I had a damned hard time not calling you last night. I don’t engage in phone sex as a rule, but until the other night, my car was a first-timer as well.” Liz had thought he might call her last night and had half waited for the phone to ring. But it never did, and she had slept restlessly. This morning she had reluctantly acknowledged she wasn’t sure if her insomnia was due to her unabated arousal or to her confused emotions over the fact he had not called. She surprised herself when she asked the man next to her, “Is this the car?” Marcus frowned for a moment and then smiled knowingly. “Yeah, it is. Like I said, Liz, that certainly was a first for me. I felt like a randy, hot-to-trot teenager.” Liz turned her head to hide her smile. Marcus spoke again, still on the same subject. “Easy for you to smile. You were all warm and snug in your bed. I had to go upstairs and listen to my father drone on and on for almost an hour, rehashing the party.” Looking back at him and seeing the twinkle in his eyes, Liz grinned. She found it impossible to resist the warm humor she saw there. It was obvious he had a sense of humor, and he could laugh at himself. A moment later, she watched his gaze moved slowly to her lips. It almost felt like a kiss, his look was so deliberate and intense. “How did you sleep that night?” Marcus asked softly. As she remembered their conversation and the activities earlier, it was impossible to keep a blush from staining her cheeks. She hoped the huskiness of her voice didn’t reveal her feelings too much. “Like a rock.” ”You wouldn’t have slept at all, if I’d followed you up those damn steps.” Liz didn’t speak. She knew he was right. If he had come to her bed, neither would have slept much that night. And they probably would have spent the next twenty-four hours in her bed also. Just thinking about it made her wet again. She shifted on the seat, pulling at her jeans, trying to get more comfortable. And then she noticed Marcus was
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having the same problem she was. As she looked back up, he stared straight into her face. She felt her cheeks heat again as she realized he knew exactly where she had been looking. ”Just being close to you makes me hard, Liz. This is going to be a long drive.” His words reinforced her thoughts. ”One of us could get into the front seat,” Liz said softly, without much conviction. Marcus grinned. “Some kinds of suffering are worth it.” She glanced at him sideways. She smiled slowly and then put her hand on his upper thigh. Looking straight ahead again, she moved her hand in small circles on his thigh. She could feel his muscles tense under her light touch. She moved her hand tentatively a bit higher, amazed at her own boldness. She felt Marcus stretch out a bit on the seat next to her. She started to move her hand higher. “Just a second.” He slipped off his jacket, and then laid it over his lap, covering her hand. He continued to look straight ahead. Moving her hand again, shifting a little sideways, she gave herself easier access and freedom of movement. Her fingers danced lightly over his erection, still hidden beneath his very expensive trousers. She heard Marcus’ breath catch as her fingers found the zipper tab slowly sliding it down. She moved slowly, releasing him from his prison of clothing. Carefully, she stroked him up and down several times before sliding one finger over the top where several drops of pre-cum had gathered. She rubbed the wetness all around the head of his cock, letting her hand slide across the top a few times before she once again encircled his hardness. Marcus knew he should stop her, but he wasn’t capable of it at the moment. He leaned back his head as her soft hand gripped his cock, pulling at times, then gently caressing, always changing her rhythm, her touch. He knew he was going to come in the backseat of his sports car any moment now. Unless he pulled her hand away from him, there would be no stopping his gushing forth. As if from a distance, he heard Liz. “Where is your handkerchief? Did you bring it with you today?” He opened his eyes and saw her still looking straight ahead, not down at what she was so intently working on. He managed to pull the pristine white kerchief free and hold it out to her. Liz took it from him, and lightly patted her face with it, as if she dabbing at her own perspiration. She lowered her hand, though, moving it under the jacket, to join her other hand, which was still moving fast and eagerly at work. He then heard Liz ask Tommy if he could turn up the radio just a little, for she rather liked this song. As the music increased, so did her tempo in stroking him, firmly, determinedly. She twisted a little more and soon both hands were under his suit jacket.
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Marcus groaned softly, knowing it wouldn’t be long now if she kept up the pace she set. His groan, though, was covered by the louder music. Liz glanced over at him just then and began a movement with her hand that he had never felt before. He felt her palm pressing against the head, right at the very top, and twisting, almost like she were turning the top off a jar. Damn! His hips jerked as he felt a thousand volts of electricity shoot through him, and just as quickly, he felt his cock jerking in her hands, eagerly giving forth his seed. He shuddered, his body emptying itself completely. Dimly, he was aware of the coolness of the handkerchief as Liz’s hands began a new chore. His head dropped back onto the seat and he closed his eyes. He could feel Liz’s hands moving, wiping him off, and finally deserting him once again, under his suit coat. He looked over and saw she had just finished wiping her own hands quite discreetly and was balling up the handkerchief. He quickly readjusted his trousers, and slid fully upright in the seat. He took the handkerchief, shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. Finally, he turned to look at the woman seated next to him. She looked so cool, composed. No one, looking at her just then, would have imagined she had just jerked him off in the backseat, using only his thousand-dollar suit jacket to conceal her actions. There was no way in hell his ex-wife ever would have done what Liz had just done. Not even alone in the car with him, and if he had dared to ask her, he never would have heard the end of it! He reached over and trailed one finger down the side of her face, marveling at the softness of her skin. Liz leaned forward, tapping Tommy’s shoulder. “Would you mind switching the music back down a bit?” As soon as he did so, she started asking questions about how much longer until they arrived. Marcus would have liked to return the favor to her, but somehow he sensed she would rebuff him. He decided to wait and bide his time until later in the evening.
***** Liz wasn’t surprised when she and Tommy were shown to their rooms that Tommy was led down a different hall than she. She didn’t say anything, though, just kept on following the maid who was showing her the way. She did gasp though when the door was opened. The room was much larger than she had expected. There were lots of windows, and they looked out onto the ocean. A balcony was just outside the windows, and she saw one of the windows was actually a door. On the balcony she could see a table with two chairs and two loungers, all with striped cushions. She shook her head in disbelief, wondering if every guestroom was this nice. She thanked the woman and said no, she could unpack herself. Once alone, she wandered around the room, testing the bed with her hand. King-sized, it made her full-size one at home look absolutely puny in comparison. 34
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A small sitting room was located at one end of the room, and next to it a small kitchenette, complete with sink, microwave, and refrigerator. She kicked off her shoes and unsnapped her jeans, letting them slide to the floor, and stepped out of them. She felt hot and sticky, and she reluctantly acknowledged it was due to more than the fact it was warm outside. A quick shower would be a good idea. She saw an open door and figured it had to be a bathroom. A room this nice just had to have a bathroom included. Liz stopped just inside the door. The tub was enormous, probably room for at least three, if not four, people. And then she saw the shower. Glass bricks made up the three sides, including the one that looked out onto the ocean. Opening the glass door, she saw that the top half of the two walls forming the outside of the house was clear glass. A couple of plants stood just outside the square-set windows to give some privacy, but the view to the ocean was unobstructed. She glanced around and saw a plentiful stash of fluffy towels. Not giving herself time to reconsider, she pulled her sweatshirt up over her head and let it drop to the floor. Stepping inside, she pulled the door shut. Turning on the water and adjusting the temperature, she saw a small knob on the wall and couldn’t resist turning it, hoping it wasn’t a fire alarm. She shrieked as water jetted out from two other showerheads, which she had not noticed before. Water came from almost every direction and she laughed as she ran her hands through her wet hair. “Damn!” she said softly, as she recalled she had not grabbed any shampoo. Turning towards the door, she saw a small, guest-sized bottle of shampoo and conditioner on a shelf. Nestled on the shelf below are a razor and a loofah sponge. The view of the ocean was irresistible, so she stood and let the water rain down on her. “Heaven,” she said softly. “So this was how the decadent rich lived!” Suddenly, she felt heat behind her, in spite of the tepid water she’d turned on. For less than a millisecond, she felt a frisson of fear. Before she could react, hands came around her, cupping her breasts and pulling her back against a strong, broad chest. She didn’t have to turn her head. She knew who stood behind her. Her conscience told her she should object, even if it was only for show. Why wasn’t she screaming and yelling, not leaning back against his strong, lean body, while his hands played with her breasts? She felt his head lower until she felt his lips kissing along the side of her neck, up to her ear. He caught the lobe between his teeth and lightly nipped the tender flesh. “I thought for sure I was going to shout louder than the music when you jerked me off in the car today,” Marcus whispered softly. He felt her reaction in the slight tensing of her spine, but he didn’t let her move away an inch. One hand continued to squeeze and play with her breast while the other one wandered down over her tummy to the smooth juncture at the top of her thighs. He rubbed his fingers lightly over her mound, feeling her slight stubbles that she had
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obviously skipped shaving in the shower this morning. He felt the jump along her nerve endings in reaction to the rubbing of his fingers over the short little hairs. Marcus growled low in his throat. “I’d love to take care of this little stubble problem you appear to have, my sweet.” He slid one finger between her lips, finding the hood of her clit easily. He wiggled his finger until he was right there, almost touching her special point of arousal. For a few seconds, he didn’t move to stimulate her. His head was filled with memories from the car. How he wished he could have returned the favor for her. Somehow he knew he would find it almost as exciting as getting jerked off. It would be a total turn-on arousing Liz, knowing she could not make a sound. Growling low in his throat, he lightly touched her clit. His arm wrapped around her waist as her legs buckled in reaction to his single touch. Her soft cry was nearly drowned out by the water cascading down around them. Liz tried to slow her breathing, rather embarrassed at how violently she had reacted to such a relatively simple touch. She was acting like a love-starved old maid. Well, maybe that is exactly what she was— Liz turned in his arms, her own hands going directly to his hardening cock. She let her fingers tangle in his dark pubic hair. “You can shave me, but only after I shave you.” She felt the stunned shock and disbelief sweep through his body this time. Obviously, shaving his pubic region had not occurred to him. For a moment she stopped as she realized this behavior was totally out of her norm. Who was this brazen hussy? Not waiting for an answer, she lightly scratched his skin through the wiry hair. She slid her hand around his shaft, stroking him lightly. Her other hand moved down, and cupped his sac, lightly holding him, rolling his balls. Still amazed at her brazenness, she stared into his eyes and neither spoke for several long seconds. She could see the indecision written on his face. She stretched upwards, pausing to lick one nipple on her way, and kissed his chin. “I’ve always wanted to make love to a smooth man. I want you to be my first.” Deliberately, she pitched her voice low, as she tried to sound sexy. Marcus reacted like dry tinder to a spark. He moved forward, pressing her back against the window in the shower. “Goddamn it all, woman!” He sealed his mouth over hers for an earth-shattering kiss, his tongue dueling with hers. It was fierce, intense, as if neither was willing to lose this little battle. Liz was eager for him. He could feel her body softening, preparing, with his first touch. When she raised one thigh to wrap her lower leg around the back of his knee, he was positive it was to encourage him. But he needed no added incentive. His hands moved to lift her leg 36
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higher, and one hand slid eagerly to find her opening. Groaning at feeling her wetness, he knew it had very little to do with the water from the shower. As he felt the softness, willingness, and openness in her body, Marcus could feel his control slip away. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding on as her foot balanced on her toes for a second. The feel of her body, exposed and eager, was all he needed. In the next second, his hard shaft was buried within her flesh. His hands cupped under her ass cheeks, holding her up. He looked down to find her eyes wide open, staring straight at him. Damn, he thought to himself, this woman was getting inside him, and not just vice versa. He refused to give her any quarter and held her gaze just as intently as he slowly withdrew a bit. He resisted the pull of her thighs around him for several long, intense moments. He finally moved back into her hot cunt, unable to stop the groan escaping his throat as he felt her muscles squeezing around his hard cock. Liz tightened her innermost muscles even more, pulling his body even farther into her own. As she did so, she refused to let loose of his gaze. But she had to relax, and he pulled back again. Over and over again, they played this sexual game of tug and pull. Each move of their bodies, no matter how slight, was assuring their climax would be powerful and most definitely more intense. Finally, Marcus leaned down and kissed her lips, softly, gently, completely at odds with the wild tug-of-war their bodies were having with each other. Liz felt the gentleness tug at something deep inside her, perhaps even more deeply than her innermost muscles strained to pull his hardness inside her. Before she knew it, and certainly unable to stop it, her climax crashed over her, like a wave upon the sand. “Oh…oh my God!” she cried out a second later. Marcus held her tight as her body spasmed again and again around his shaft. Desperately he wanted to let go, but he held back. Groaning, he said tersely, “Is it safe, honey? Do I need to pull out?” In the midst of the insanity, he could feel Liz pausing for an infinitesimal moment. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s safe. Come inside me!” He heard her words in breathy little puffs against his ear even as he felt her inner contractions slow. For a scant second or two, he held back to savor the multitude of feelings. Finally, with a shout he allowed his body its release. He thrust hard and fast, shooting his cum deep into her sweet, hot, tight cunt. Never had he felt so elemental…so male. He pushed all images from his mind, letting his physical release overshadow everything else. Out of breath, he couldn’t continue to hold her upright, and she slid slowly down. Regretfully, he felt his cock slide from her body.
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Her head was bowed and rested upon his heaving chest. Concentrating on calming his own breathing, he heard her whisper softly. “Will we ever do this like normal people, in a bed?” Marcus burst out laughing. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He handed her the soap as he took the shampoo. As his hands began to shampoo her hair, he felt her tense slightly. Before he could question her action, she spoke. “I like that,” she murmured with a soft sigh, almost sounding like a cat purring in enjoyment. A slight slap on her bottom brought her out of her daze. “When I came in here, which honestly was just to tell you how long we had until dinner, we had an hour. I’m guessing we only have about thirty minutes now, and my folks like to have drinks first.” Liz came completely out of her euphoric haze, rinsing her head briskly. She used the lather on her hands to wash under her arms and between her legs. Marcus grabbed the soap and finished washing his own body quickly. He stepped out first, handing her a large towel which had been warmed. He watched her as she dried herself unselfconsciously. He couldn’t help but wonder at her naturalness with him. He hated to think it might be because she had been with so many other men, in similar situations, that there was nothing special or unusual about this time. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. He shook his head as he hung up his towel. He grabbed the clothes he had discarded a short time earlier and started back through the bedroom. He opened a far door, entering a connecting bedroom. Tossing his clothes onto his bed, he walked to the dresser. Marcus turned to pull on his jockey shorts and was startled to see Liz stood in the still open doorway, watching him. “I thought this door was to another closet,” she told him as she looked at him dress. He finished pulling on his underwear—jockey briefs and a white tank t-shirt—and then walked over to her. He put his hands on her damp shoulders. “I arranged with our housekeeper for you to have this room. No one else knows you are here, not even my parents, yet. My mother thinks you are in the room she picked out for you, next to Tommy’s.” He added with a slight shrug, “But no one keeps secrets around her for long. These are the rooms I shared with my ex-wife, for the very brief time we were married. I think she was only down here once, though. She hated the ocean. Or rather, she hated being away from the city, and civilization, as she put it.” Marcus wasn’t one for long discussions, or rehashing things. Still he felt the need to explain this time. “I didn’t plan on what just happened, Liz. I didn’t expect to find you naked in the shower, and looking so incredibly desirable. I couldn’t resist, especially after the ride down.” He watched her face, wondering if she was angry at his presumptions.
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Liz smiled slowly. “Well, that was my first time in a shower. Hmm,” she finished thoughtfully. Marcus smiled. “What is it?” “You are becoming a series of firsts for me, Marcus. First in the museum, which still astounds me at my behavior. A first for phone sex…a first for the car earlier…a first in the shower… I’m still wondering if you will let yourself be my first smooth lover?” Marcus was jolted into awareness once again. He was amazed to feel his cock hardening again, at just her seductive words. He leaned down and kissed her lips lightly. “Give me this evening to think about it, okay?” he asked her softly. He had a gut feeling he already knew what his answer was going to be. Liz nodded and turned back to her room. Walking away, she felt compelled to glance back over her shoulder. When she saw that he stood unmoving, staring at her, she couldn’t resist. Slowly, with seductive and teasing intent, she let the towel drop to the floor and kept on walking, adding a definite twitch to her butt. She heard his sharp intake of breath, but didn’t look back again, and finished with her own dressing for dinner. It would do him good to do a little suffering. She certainly was enduring the angst of desire.
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Chapter Four A short time later, Marcus reentered her bedroom. Liz let her gaze wander over Marcus’ casual appearance longingly. He looked so handsome in his khaki cable knit sweater and slacks. The sweater seemed to have flecks of blue and green, reminding her of the ocean. He wore loafers, but no socks. He was the epitome of the businessman gone casual, influential male. In fact, he looked good enough to have walked straight off the cover of one of those male magazines. She had dressed in a taupe-colored, soft cotton dress, which buttoned down the front from the scoop U-bodice. She wore leather sandals and braided leather belt, which matched in color. Since her hair was still wet, she had pulled it back and loosely French braided it. Taking advantage of the casual atmosphere, she had skipped any makeup. She also figured since she rarely wore it anyway, if Marcus was attracted to her, he had might as well learn that this was how she normally looked. “I think if you go on down the main stairs alone, we’ll avoid any undue questions or attention for now. I’ll go down the back stairs and come in from the beach.” Liz understood what he didn’t say out loud and nodded. But before she could leave, he pulled her close for one hard, fast kiss, which left her flushed and breathless. More than a little bemused, Liz made her way back downstairs. Once there, she followed the noise to a small living area, which opened up onto the patio that overlooked the beach. Tommy had obviously been watching for her. He came over immediately, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her to where he had been chatting with Marcus’ mother. Catherine greeted her. “I am so glad you could join us this weekend, Ms. Smith.” Liz smiled. “Please, call me Liz. Thank you for the invitation. Your house is amazing.” William Waters shouted from across the room. “What’s your poison, little lady?” He grinned when Catherine shook her finger at him. “There’s no need to shout, Bill.” Catherine leaned forward and whispered to Liz, “Ever since we added the special bar features he thinks he’s Tom Cruise in Cocktail. The only good thing is the double blenders make fruit smoothies.” She winked. “We’ll have him make some tomorrow and add a little rum. Yum!” Liz smiled and said, “A soft drink will be fine, if you don’t mind.” She felt a little drunk from Marcus’ kiss a few moments earlier and decided she would need a clear head this evening.
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As she sipped her soda a few minutes later, she felt someone looking at her and knew it was Marcus. She turned her head and saw no one else had noticed him yet. He stood just outside the room, the wind blowing his hair as he stood on the patio, watching her. She realized Tommy had kept his arm around her shoulders. Quickly she moved farther away from him and took a seat a short distance away. Since she had chosen a chair, Tommy was forced to sit on the sofa next to Mrs. Waters. Liz was intensely aware of Marcus as he strolled into the room, casually accepting a beer from his father, before walking over to lightly kiss his mother’s cheek. His gaze bore into hers as he talked lightly with his parents about the drive up. Liz felt her cheeks warm when Catherine commented, “Looks as if you two both hopped into the shower.” Marcus chuckled, his own cheeks flushing a little, Liz was happy to note, and ran his hand through his still wet hair. “It was a little warm in the car on the way up.” He quickly changed the subject to their other expected guests. Liz listened with half her attention as Marcus and his parents discussed some other people they had invited to join them for different things over the weekend. There was a dance at the local country club Saturday evening, so that would take care of their dinner plans also. She tried not to be too obvious, but her gaze kept straying back to Marcus. She found she enjoyed watching his face as he talked and even more so as he listened to others speaking. She found her eyes lingering on the V-neck of his sweater and then moving over his shoulders slowly, almost caressing them visibly. And when her gaze moved downward, she paused over his crotch for so long, that when she looked up, she realized he was glaring at her. She blushed brightly in embarrassment at being caught staring, feeling guilty when she considered how she’d react in similar circumstances with her family. Tuning back in to the conversation going on around her, she realized Tommy was quite animated about the talk of sailing that weekend. “This is going to be a great weekend, Liz,” he told her. “Marcus has arranged for me to go sailing tomorrow morning with some friends of his who have a fifty-foot boat.” Liz opened her mouth to reply. Tommy rushed on. “We are playing tennis after lunch at the club, and then golf early Sunday morning.” She realized Marcus had arranged for Tommy to be occupied with others for most of the weekend. And Tommy, eager to taste a life he had never before known, was more than willing to dive in wholeheartedly. Like a knife cutting through her came the thought that perhaps Marcus had planned for activities for Tommy and himself. The part he saw for her was a limited one—
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She spoke quickly to prevent her emotions from tainting her voice. “Wow! Sounds like you boys have a busy weekend ahead of you,” she murmured. Her cynical inner voice pointed out she’d already partially fulfilled her intended role in the shower. A moment later, she was surprised to see Marcus stood next to her chair, holding out his hand. She had missed the last few seconds of conversation. Catherine nodded. “Yes, dear, we have plenty of time before dinner. You go on and show Liz the beach while your father talks to Tommy about the sailing tomorrow.” Liz took the hand held out to her, feeling the strong grip enclose her smaller hand. She almost pulled away from him, as they passed through the patio doors a few moments later. At the end of the patio, Marcus kicked off his shoes and hopped down onto the sand. He turned and reached to take hold of Liz’s right foot. To keep her balance, she reached out hurriedly to grab onto his shoulder. As he slipped first one and then the other sandal off her feet, she couldn’t deny how nice it felt—just the simple touch of his hands upon her feet. He set her shoes next to his own and then put his hands at her waist and lifted her down to the beach. Taking her hand, he once again started walking, or rather pulling her, across the sand. After they’d gone about fifty feet, Liz jerked her hand free. Marcus turned to look at her, his surprise at her action apparent in his expression. Liz moved a few feet back, her hands set on her hips, glaring at him this time. “What’s the big idea?” she asked him a bit angrily. “I’m not a sack of sugar you can just drag around.” Shrugging, he replied. “I’m sorry, Liz. But walking in and seeing him with his arm around you,” he paused, shaking his head ruefully. “Then you stare at my crotch…well, it was a little more than my blood pressure could handle.” Liz smiled softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Tommy still had his arm around me, and I was thinking about earlier, in the shower and my gaze strayed—” She shrugged. “I couldn’t help myself. I had some pretty naughty thoughts.” Something deep inside pushed her to step outside her comfort zone with Marcus. She spoke quickly. “You make me think about horizontal positions.” Marcus groaned and pulled her into his arms, hugging her close. “They couldn’t be any naughtier than the ones I keep having since I first met you. All I wanted was to go back upstairs with you and prove that we could do it like so-called normal people.” He moved back from her reluctantly. “We better continue walking. Dinner will be soon, and after that my folks usually retire pretty early first night down here. I thought I’d offer Tommy the use of my car to drive to the country club, if he doesn’t want to go to bed yet. I am hoping at his age he’ll consider ten too early for a Friday.” Liz walked along at his side. She nodded her head, saying quietly, “Ah.” Part of her wanted to balk at his blatant suggestions. Obviously, he saw no reason for them not to spend the entire night, in bed, not sleeping. While she had been the one earlier to ask if 42
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they’d ever make love in a bed, the reality of it suddenly felt somewhat overwhelming to her. Marcus turned to look at her. “And did you have something in mind for my evening?” she asked, faking an innocent tone. Marcus shook his head at her, turning them back towards the house. “I hoped you’d say you were too tired and wanted an early night also.” She could feel he watched her closely. “And were you going out on the town with Tommy?” Liz asked softly while she nodded her head again. She hoped he would deny any desire for an evening on the town. Marcus laughed down at her. “Are you crazy? I planned on retiring early also.” He looked back up and away from her, continuing to walk. “Hopefully with you.” Liz waited, wondering if he planned on going to sleep early as well. Possibly she was wrong. And then he said, “I thought about letting you make me that first you mentioned earlier.” Liz tripped in the sand. Her heart raced madly, while her breath came too fast. She’d made the offer pretty sure he’d refuse. In preparation of someday, she had done research on the subject. Definitely this was one reason to be grateful for the Internet, she thought, smiling. As she met Marcus’ gaze, she felt the flush stain her cheeks. Feeling bold in her head and actually say the words for real were completely different she discovered. No doubt he would think she was crazy, but she still felt this wide gap between her real-life experiences and book learning. She wasn’t ready for him to know that she was one of the experience-challenged— Marcus grinned. “God! I want to hug you and run to the nearest soft, secluded surface, but we’re too close to the house. I assume you are still interested. I hope you weren’t toying with my emotions.” He paused, looking down at her seriously. Her heart raced madly at his heated look and his words. Liz narrowed her eyes as she glanced up at him. “You are about to get the shave of your life.” Her voice shook as it lowered to a whisper. She knew he could barely hear above the roar of the ocean. She spoke from her innermost feelings and desires. “I’ve heard the feeling of smooth cock against smooth pussy is almost worth dying for.” Liz watched the flare of sexual desire in his eyes at her words. It wasn’t true that she’d “heard” but rather that she’d read it. In fact she had read a whole lot on the subject. Her hope was she could carry it off without revealing her complete lack of knowledge in this area. She knew she would pay for her teasing later, but she would be looking forward to that.
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Several hours later, Liz stretched out on her bed in the darkness, leaving the lights off upon entering her room suited her mood. She’d left Marcus alone with Tommy, who was putting up a token resistance at driving the car again. She really hoped Marcus didn’t end up going with Tommy. He was good at wheedling to get his way, when he wanted to. Look at how he had managed to move in with her. She’d been cleverly manipulated, but what had really swayed her was the collusion of his and her parents. Now that she had met Marcus, she’d discovered an overwhelming sensuality, which occurred with his lightest touch. Her past sexual experiences had left her vulnerable, and therefore she was shocked at what she felt with him. She shifted on the bed, enjoying the way the ceiling fan caused a light breeze to drift across her naked skin. She had undressed upon entering the room, tossing her dress aside and grabbed a quick shower. Unable to keep Marcus from her thoughts for very long, she had shaved thoroughly before lying on the bed, her skin still slightly damp. Realizing she was tired all of a sudden, she barely suppressed a huge yawn. Maybe it was the ocean air? Or maybe it was restless nights dreaming of steamy rendezvous on museum balconies while dozens of people were only yards away? She turned on her side, smiling to herself. She seemed to be a different person with Marcus. Someone she didn’t really recognize, but this new person was a woman of sensuality, passion and emotions. Liz was amazed by something she had not expected—she liked this new person. Marcus entered the dark bedroom. He had found it much harder than he thought to convince Tommy to take his car into town alone, without appearing too obvious. He wanted the younger man out of the way. Deliberately, he moved slowly, a little farther into the room and stopped. His worst outcome scenario was he’d find her door locked. Liz was lying on the bed, naked. She had gone to sleep and seemed oblivious to the fact she hadn’t pulled up the covers. He crossed to the side of the bed and watched her. Her body was so beautiful bathed in the faint moon glow. He considered waking her, to get his promised shave, but decided to let her sleep instead. Quickly, he shed his own clothes and then maneuvered the covers from beneath her body. He climbed in next to her and pulled the bed clothing up over them both. When Liz shifted in her sleep, starting to roll to her side, he moved so she rolled into his arms. She was pressed tightly against him, and he enjoyed the sensations of just lying on the bed with her. Her body heat seeped into his and he soon drifted to sleep with her held reassuringly close.
*****
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Marcus shifted in his bed, not wanting to awaken from the erotic dream he was having. Liz was in his bed, and she had pulled off all the covers. Her head rested low on his abdomen and he could feel her soft hands stroking over him, her fingers tangling in his pubic hair. He saw her lift her head, though, and the next thing he felt was heat. Oh God! Incredible wet heat engulfed the head of his cock, and then came the sucking and pulling on it. He groaned and his hands moved to tangle in her hair, which fell forward, keeping him from seeing what— Marcus jerked awake, thinking he was having a wet dream. He rose up on his elbows and saw his dream was reality at its sweetest. Liz was licking and sucking his cock. “Oh God, honey!” he shouted and his cum shot forth, just as Liz had lifted her head when he spoke. She laughed as some hit her cheek, her hair and her breasts. She looked up at him, smiling. “Good morning,” she wished him softly. Marcus grabbed some tissues from the bedside table and wiped her clean. She moved back up the bed, and kissed his mouth. “Why didn’t you wake me last night? I believe we had a bit of unsettled business between us.” Marcus smiled. “I couldn’t seem to convince Tommy to go out last night. By the time I got up here, you were sleeping so peacefully. I thought I’d let you snooze a bit longer, but then I must have dropped off myself.” Liz nodded, but slid her hand down his chest, over his abdomen and finally tangled in his pubic hair. “Do you give up your virgin pubic hair to me or not? Have you decided?” His whole body jerked a bit as she tugged on his hair. He wasn’t convinced, but he liked the idea of her attention, and wondering what both their smooth skins might feel like together was intoxicating. “I’ve thought about it, and it certainly does have appeal and possibilities.” Smiling at him, she questioned, “Hmm, so is that a yes or a no?” Marcus pulled Liz upwards until they were face to face. “Answer me one question first.” Slowly, she nodded. “Have you done this to Tommy?” Liz shook her head. “You would be my first smooth lover, Marcus. And I think I should tell you something about Tommy.” Marcus pressed his fingers over her lips, abruptly changing his mind about needing to know. “I don’t want his name mentioned. What has happened between you two is in the past, and let’s let it stay there.”
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Liz looked into his eyes, wanting to explain the true situation. Deception in any form was foreign to her. Compounded with this completely unusual situation, she was thrown totally off-kilter. She bobbed her head confidently, knowing this was a promise she could easily keep. “So, what’s the decision?” Marcus smiled. “If you promise to keep me smooth afterwards. I understand the upkeep can be a little tiresome.” Liz grinned. She squirmed around and slid off the bed. She saw his gaze go over her naked body, lingering over her hairless pussy. Feeling bold, which was new and exciting, she told him, “I think I am up to the task.” She held her hand out. Accepting her hand, he let her pull him from the bed. She turned and led him into the bathroom. “We take a nice hot shower to start.” She reached in and turned on the water. As she stepped under the water, she let it sluice down over her hair and body. She raised her hands and slicked back her hair from her face. Stepping in next to her, Marcus reached for the soap. Once he’d lathered his hands, he passed her the bar and then his soapy hands touched her shoulders and began moving slowly over her body. To Liz, it seemed like he deliberately washed everywhere but her breasts and when his hands moved between her thighs, she sighed deeply at his hands on her sensitive flesh. She scarcely had a few seconds to enjoy his touch. He quickly moved on, turning her around and washing her back and buttocks. He rinsed his hands and then asked her to pass him the shampoo. Soaping up her hair, his fingers massaged her scalp. Liz sighed, tilting her head back towards him. When his hands moved away, she whimpered in loss. Marcus reached for the removable showerhead, though, and lowered it close to her scalp, rinsing the lather away. He rinsed her back and then told her to turn around. Once he rinsed off her front, she was surprised when he slid his hand down one leg, coaxing her foot up to rest on the built-in seat. His palm caressed her ankle and up her calf. She did so, reluctantly. Without warning, Marcus directed the flow between her thighs. She yelped loudly. He grinned. And then he reached down with his other hand and gently spread apart her lips, exposing her clit to the pulsing flow of water. Crying out, her hands gripped his shoulders. Quickly, her arms slid around his neck, locking to stay upright. As her orgasm flowed through her like the hot water over their bodies, she was still faintly aware that Marcus watched. His arms wrapped around her shivering and quivering body as she exploded in climax.
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As she barely stood, supported mostly by Marcus’ strong arms and legs, she was stunned once more by her own reactions. None of this was really making much sense anymore. She’d never considered herself a sexual person. But since meeting Marcus, she was forced to rethink her opinion. Liz finally pushed away, looking up solemnly. “Is something wrong, honey?” he asked. Something in his tone, or the look on his face, told her he’d seen some of her misapprehensions on her face. Quickly, she struggled to remove her serious expression. Shaking her head, she blinked her eyes to hide her momentary tears, which had rushed forth at the tender look on his face. She took the bar of soap and began lathering up her small hands. She reached out and soaped his chest first, spending a long time around his nipples and then moving to his arms, and then she stepped around him. She soaped his back and spent several long moments on his taut butt. Appreciation of the way his muscles tensed with her prolonged attention was impossible, especially when he reached back and pulled away her hands. “Enough!” she heard him mutter under his breath. When she came back around him, she stopped to soap up her hands again. She looked up at him through her lashes and smiled. For the first time in her life, she felt fully alive and sensual. Sexy! The need to pleasure him was strong, almost overwhelming her. Quickly, she touched her hands to his lower abdomen and then down to encircle his cock, which got harder with each passing moment. “Don’t spend too much time down there, sweetheart, or—” He broke off abruptly. She slid one hand back to cup and to gently massage his sac. But she deserted him after a few seconds. “You wash your hair and I’ll step out and get ready for phase two.” Before Marcus could stop her, she slipped from the shower and wrapped a towel around her hair. She paused for a moment, her hand hovering over a second towel. Just as quickly, she decided to go with her emboldened feelings and walked naked back into the bedroom. She gathered up the things she would need and spread a towel on the bed. As he walked in just a few minutes later, she turned. Gesturing for him to lie down, she saw the wary look on his face. Winking naughtily, she whispered in what she hoped was a sexy tone, “Come on, big guy, it won’t be so bad. I promise.” Marcus lay down and pulled the pillows behind his head so he could watch every move she made. Liz grinned and sat on the bed, rearranging her supplies. Pushing down his nerves and reservations about a woman, a razor and his family jewels, he looked around and saw a small container of hot water, scissors, razor and shaving cream. Then he saw her pick up the small scissors. Marcus lowered his head to the pillow again, breathing in deliberately and relaxing his stomach muscles. A few seconds later, his curiosity drove him to lift back up, though.
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Liz slid her fingers into his bush, lifting a small thatch of hair. She glanced up at him and grinned. “Bye-bye bush—” she whispered softly. “You little—” Marcus cut off his remark as he felt her soft fingers sift through his hair again, lifting a bit, and then snipping it off. The feeling of her fingers against his skin, moving through his hair was intoxicating. Relaxing, his head dropped once more. She kept snipping and snipping, until she finally set aside the scissors. Marcus lifted his head to see what she would do next. He didn’t expect her to lightly rub her fingers over the stubble there. A groan erupted from his gut as she stroked across his lower abdomen. Wringing out the washcloth, she draped it over his lower abdomen. She lightly ran her fingers up and down his cock and sac. “Is this added torture?” Marcus asked between gritted teeth after a few torturous seconds. Shaking her head, she replied, “I’m just being thorough and checking for long strays I might have missed.” After a few minutes, she removed the cloth and spread the shaving cream in a thin layer. She paused to look up at him. He wasn’t sure what she was going to say. But it was obvious she changed her mind at the last minute, saying instead, “Thank you.” And then she picked up the pink razor and stroked it over his abdomen first, rinsing between every stroke of the razor. She worked carefully and slowly shaving his cock and was especially cautious as she stretched and smoothed out the wrinkles in his scrotum. “Bet this is the first time you’ve ever shaved with a pink razor, huh?” Marcus had to admit to himself he had been holding his breath during that part of the shave. “Uh, yeah,” he finally replied, remembering what she’d asked him. Setting down the razor, she dipped her fingers in the water and began removing every remaining trace of lather left behind. Once his skin was wet and slippery, she very slowly moved her fingers over his skin again, checking very carefully for any strays she might have missed. Twice she stopped and picked up the razor, removing the errant hairs that defiantly sought to remain. Over and over, driving him a bit crazier with each stroke of her fingers, she checked his skin. Finally, she paused in her examination to announce, “I believe we’re all done.” Immediately, Marcus started to rise up to see her handiwork. “No, wait! I forgot something. Hold on!” she added abruptly. Marcus waited, wondering if he now looked like a twelve-year-old boy again. Certainly this wasn’t a time he cared to repeat. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Liz filled one palm with some golden-colored oil, letting it warm for a few moments. Her palms rubbed lightly together to spread the oil before lowering her hands to his body again. The feel of her oil-slick hands moving over his hairless skin was too much. He was instantly rock-hard, and when one slick hand cupped his sac and gently rolled his balls in her palm, he oozed pre-cum.
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Marcus decided he had to look. Seconds later, Liz tossed off the towel covering her hair. She lowered her head and began licking the pre-cum from the tip of his hard, throbbing cock. Her hand encircled him, stroking upwards. Just when he thought he’d had all the surprises he could handle, she moved lower, and he felt her mouth on his sac. He groaned at the multitude of sensations. Her wet hair danced around the heat her mouth and hands created. She lightly sucked on the smooth skin, gently releasing the skin by letting it slide against her teeth. And then she drew one of his balls into her mouth and sucked on it lightly, rubbing her tongue against the taut skin. Finally, she released him. Unable to wait any longer, he reached down and grabbed her arms, pulling her up and across his body. “Enough, woman!” he told her, kissing her partly open mouth. Swiftly, he turned them so he was lying above her, propped on his forearms. “So, you want to test this new version of sex?” Liz smiled up at him, her hands coming up to caress his face. Her damp fingertips moved over his forehead, tracing his eyebrows. One finger stroked down the bridge of his nose and then over his lips. Both hands caressed his cheeks. “I thought it was time to inspect my work firsthand.” Marcus chuckled, loving her sense of humor. “I thought that’s what you were doing a few seconds ago.” He lowered his head to kiss her shoulder, moving down to her breasts, going between them, suckling on her nipples. He started to move lower. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging to stop him. He looked back up, surprised. “What’s wrong? I merely want to show my appreciation.” Liz shook her head vigorously enough to cause her wet hair to flop from side to side. “I’ve been ready since before I woke you up. Please, come into me now, Marcus. Don’t make me wait another minute,” she whispered softly. He needed no further encouragement and rose above her. Liz moved her thighs, her legs encircling his hips. Pausing and rubbing his cock over her wet lips, he felt her moving, seeking to bring him inside. He delayed no longer and thrust into her wet heat. Liz’s legs tightened for a moment, holding him very close. His deep groan, as he closed his eyes, echoed throughout the quiet room. The feeling of his naked, shaven skin against hers was more erotic and intense than he had thought it could be. He pulled back, sliding away from her body once more, groaning at the intense sensations chasing through his body just then. He tried to take a deep breath and go slow. “When…God, honey! When did you shave? I felt stubbles yesterday in the shower.”
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“Last evening, waiting on you. I went into the bathroom and decided to smooth the way. I guess I was being hopeful.” The smile he saw curving her beautiful mouth warmed his heart. It took him a few seconds and then he grinned back at her. “Next time I get to do the honors, right?” Liz nodded, closing her eyes. “Yes…next time my pussy is all yours!” Marcus slowed his thrusts. He wanted to make this good for Liz. “It feels like your sweet pussy is all mine right now,” he muttered, unable to keep the possessive tone from his voice. He looked down at her face and saw she was experiencing the same overwhelming feelings he was, as their shaven skin met, along with the sexual rubbing and squeezing going on inside. “Yes, your shaved pussy is mine!” Liz opened her eyes and saw him looking down at her. His words startled her. God! They turned her on…in ways she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit. Pushing away that thought, she smiled softly and squeezed her innermost muscles tightly, holding him inside her for a moment longer when he went to pull back. They both moaned at the shared feeling. Marcus pulled back and thrust inside again, and then again. Each movement rubbed flesh against flesh, increasing the stimulation to her clit and she shivered. Marcus began moving faster. Liz raised her hands to caress his chest, her fingers curving to bite into his muscles. And then she felt it starting. It came from deep inside her body, crashing wildly and sending her over the edge. Liz cried out and her muscles spasmed on his cock. The sensation was like she was milking him, or nibbling on his cock, sucking him a little deeper with each muscular contraction. “Oh God! Elizabeth! I can’t hold back—” His thrusts magnified in speed as he came inside her, deep and hot, shooting his seed high into her body. Over and over, he pushed into her, forcing his cum deeper into the hot recesses of her body. Marcus stayed inside her, keeping his arms taut and his body poised above her. Her thighs were still raised, holding him close. Finally, he started to move when she spoke quickly. “Please, wait! I don’t want you to leave me just yet.” Marcus was stunned at how arousing her words were. It didn’t make any sense, he knew. But just hearing her simple request for him to keep his cock inside her affected him more deeply than anything he could remember any woman had ever said to him previously in a sexual situation. “I’m too heavy, sweetheart.” “No! You aren’t.” “Let me roll us over. It won’t be the same, but you weigh a lot less than I do.”
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Liz squeaked as Marcus rolled them in the bed. Now she was lying across his chest, draped over him. It took a moment or two and then Liz pushed herself up slightly. “You are still…uhn!” Liz tightened her muscles down around his cock. “God! Honey, warn a guy next time!” “I’m sorry, did that hurt?” Liz pushed herself upright until she straddled his hips, his cock still pushed into her cunt. “Oh…there!” Marcus groaned. “There what?’ He noticed the satisfied look on her face. Liz lifted her hands and twisted her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. In less than a few seconds, her uptilted breasts were cupped and aggressively fondled by Marcus’ hands. “Hey!” she protested his possession, weakly. Marcus grinned this time. “I just wanted to hold on to you, Liz. You looked a little shaky in this position.” He shifted his hands so he was only cupping them from beneath. “I wanted to be a gentleman and assist a lady. I grabbed onto the first two knobs I could find.” Liz shook her head in disbelief at his jesting words. “Why don’t I believe you?” Marcus felt his grin fade as a sense of seriousness washed through him. “I am completely trustworthy and honest. I won’t ever lie to you, Liz. Not if I can possibly help it.” As silence followed his words, he knew he was waiting for her to echo back his words, but she didn’t. For the first time in his adult and sexual life, he felt he wanted something his partner wasn’t willing to give him. This had never happened to him, not even when he was a teen. Watching Liz, she looked away from his gaze as if she had something to hide. “Maybe I should get off you,” she murmured a few seconds later. “No, don’t move on my account,” Marcus replied quickly. He moved his hands just a little, wanting to make her very aware of the intimacy of their position. His thumbs began flicking across her nipples. “I guess I forgot what I was going to say,” she added a few seconds later. “That’s all right. In a position like this, conversation isn’t always what a guy needs.” Marcus started to massage Liz’s breasts once again, shifting his hips so he was sure she felt his cock still inside her, despite it being much softer than it was previously. Silently he cursed he had not met Liz ten years ago…then he could be ready to go all over again. Oh well— Liz looked down at Marcus and saw his gaze was trained on his hands, and her breasts. Resting her palms against her thighs, she let his hands work their magic upon her sensitive flesh. Maybe it was starvation making her react like this? Or ridiculously prolonged abstinence? None of this made any sense, in her opinion. And no matter how light the conversation, she was still intensely aware of the presence of Marcus’ manhood inside her body…not moving, or hard or demanding, but completely
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undeniable in its presence. Perhaps even more so because of the non-aggressive way he had acted. His touch was mildly arousing, but it also soothed and felt playful. It comforted and that was something she was not used to, at all. She’d been on her own since eighteen basically, and despite a few failed attempts at dating, no man had been in her life since her one bad choice in high school. Closing her lids, she wondered why one mistake had screwed up her life. It really wasn’t fair. Maybe it was the combination of her determination to avoid the trap that befell the women in her family plus how close she’d come to sealing her fate, that perhaps she was forever doomed to be alone. Of course, alone there was staying physically versus emotionally aloof. The sex she was sure she could handle and keep him at arm’s length. After all, things were going fairly well so far, especially considering the rocky beginning. If ever there had been an instantaneous lust at first sight, this was it! But if he started getting tender and gentle…well, she doubted her ability to continue this farce she’d started. If she stopped that— “Lizzie?” Soft tapping at her bedroom door sounded again, only it was much more urgent, irregular this time. “Liz! I need to see you. I’m desperate, Liz.” Tommy’s frantic tone came through. “You are the only one who can help me! Please, open up!” Liz could feel the change in Marcus the instant they both heard and recognized Tommy’s voice calling her name, just outside her bedroom door. The look in his eyes almost told more than the cold way he spoke. “It appears as if someone else came for some wakeup sex, huh?” Liz shoved herself off Marcus’ body in an instant. The fact he could still think that about her, after their time together, hurt her. Granted, she had not done anything to really allay his concerns nor displace the earlier lies she’d let him believe about herself and Tommy. So if a man came scratching on her bedroom door at dawn, perhaps it was natural to assume he was there begging for some sweet morning sex. None of which made her feel any better. Moving swiftly before Marcus could grab her, which he did try to do, she pulled on a short silky robe she’d brought and walked to the bedroom door. Luckily, it was still dark enough so the bed itself couldn’t be seen. She opened the door a tiny bit and slipped into the hallway. Tommy opened his mouth immediately. “God! Liz I need your help. I am in deep shit!” Liz grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the door. “Shh! What do you want at this time of the morning? Oh my God! You haven’t been to bed yet, have you?” she couldn’t believe he was still dressed in last evening’s clothes. Now she was getting worried. “Just tell me what has happened? Are you all right?”
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“I’ve fucked up everything, Liz! My folks are gonna shit when they find out!” “Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe they don’t have to find out.” She patted his shoulder, taking longer to look him over. “You aren’t hurt, are you?” She didn’t pause to point out his parents shouldn’t have that much to say about his life at this point in his life. Being a wonder kid, she knew Tommy had matured mentally, as far as learning went. But emotionally, he’d missed out on a lot of life’s normal experiences. That’s probably partly why she still had a soft spot for him— “No, I’m okay. But Marcus’ car looks pretty sad.” “Not that car! The silly thing must cost a fortune! Oh shit!” Liz wrapped her arms across her waist. Tommy really was in trouble. Damn it! Just when she thought things were going so well— “You know I don’t have the money yet to pay for expensive repairs. I can’t put it on my insurance. How can I ask my new employer to use his?” “I know, Tommy.” Silently she realized if he covered the repairs, the time would be even longer before he could find an apartment. Shit! She hated that she was concerned about her own comfort instead of focusing on Tommy’s. Yet she’d fantasized about having Marcus alone in her apartment a few times and having sex on her sofa and maybe in her studio. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she replied, “I can loan you a few hundred. That should help.” Tommy hugged Liz tightly. “Thanks, Liz! You really are the same girl I fell for, huh?” “Don’t be silly, Tommy. Now go shower, shave and clean up. You’ll have to tell Marcus right after breakfast. You don’t want him finding out before you have a chance to tell him and offer to make amends. Things would look bad, like you were hiding something, to get out of paying. Go on, now! I’ll get ready for breakfast as well.” Tommy tried to kiss her, but she turned her head and his lips landed on her cheek. Back inside her bedroom, she was surprised to find it deserted. It was kind of strange, but she felt intimately bereft. It didn’t make any sense, because no commitments existed between them, after all. Nothing had been said that he would wait for her to go down to breakfast…or she should wait on him…or anything.
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Chapter Five Marcus waited until they were about fifty yards down the beach before he asked Tommy to tell him how bad the damage was. He listened in silence as Tommy described the dent and scratches, which ran the entire length of the car. Marcus just nodded until Tommy was done. He stopped and patted the younger man on the shoulder. He saw the reassured look on the other man’s face. “Sounds like it will need new front and rear side panels, new door, and probably the bumpers will have to be replaced also,” Marcus said loudly, over the roar of the ocean. “The problem with these foreign cars is getting parts, of course. And then there is the business of who works on it. Sometimes it is hard to get in with an accredited place for the work.” Tommy nodded, his head bobbing up and down jerkily several times. “How much do you think it will cost, Marcus? Couple hundred?” “Hmm, hard to say for sure. The parts are difficult to come by sometimes, and there is really only one place skilled enough to do the job. Probably it will take couple of weeks to fix, once they do get the parts.” Tommy looked back at the house with a quick, repetitive glance over his shoulder. Marcus turned and looked back as well. Liz was still seated on the deck, on the edge of her chair, watching them and waiting. Marcus half expected to see her chewing her fingernails. He hated the fact she seemed to care so much over Tommy’s distress. Tommy spoke again. “I am really sorry, “Marcus. It was a stupid thing to do, I know. I can pay for all the repairs. Getting it all covered will just take a little while. I have school loans, and I’ve been sending some money home to my folks. And of course, Liz will loan me a few hundred, so I could give you some cash for it now.” Marcus shook his head, still looking back at Liz for a moment longer. “Actually, Tommy, I have another idea. If you agree, you won’t owe me a dime, and you won’t have to take money from Liz, either.” He paused at the interested look in the younger man’s eyes. “I want you to move out of Liz’s apartment today.” Tommy’s mouth dropped open at Marcus’ words. “But I can’t really afford it. That’s why I’m staying with her right now. Paying you will put me even further behind.” “I’ll arrange an apartment for you. You can have it rent-free for six months. This should give you enough time to get on your feet. It will just take a few phone calls when
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we get back, and all will be arranged. I have another car here you can drive back to the city today.” Marcus turned and started back towards the house. Tommy ran after him a few seconds later, grabbing Marcus arm. “Wait! What is this all about? Why do you care where I’m living?” Marcus looked down at Tommy’s hand on his forearm. Almost immediately Tommy released him. “I wouldn’t give a damn where you lived, just so long as it isn’t in Liz’s apartment.” Tommy frowned. “You mean that you—” He paused, stumbling over the words. Marcus met Tommy’s gaze levelly. For a moment, he reconsidered what he was about to do. Then he imperceptibly shook his head. He was making his point, and if he needed a sledgehammer, then that’s what he would use. “I’m fucking her, Tommy. And I don’t like the idea of another man under her roof.” He turned and started walking away again. Tommy stood for a moment, not sure whether to be relieved at not having such another huge debt over his head. Or should he be outraged at the way Marcus had just talked about Liz. Even though she had rebuffed all his advances, and he still tended to see her as his babysitter, it didn’t mean he no longer had feelings for her. Tommy ran after him once more. He grabbed the larger man’s forearm, stopping him about ten yards from the house. “Hey!” he shouted at Marcus. “Is that all she is to you? A good fuck?” He glared up at the older man, clenching his hands into fists at his side. Marcus looked at Tommy. “Why do you ask? Is it any business of yours?” Tommy took a swing at Marcus, which he easily avoided. Tommy fell to the sand. As he got to his feet slowly, he shouted at Marcus, “Liz is a lady. Don’t call her names or say you are ‘fucking her’, damn it!” Liz, who ran down the beach towards them, heard what Tommy said. She stopped about ten feet away, breathing hard from her quick dash across the sand. Her heart tightened painfully, as if a vise were around it, at Tommy’s words. She opened her mouth, knowing she needed to stop this before it went any further. Tommy was burning his economic bridges, and she couldn’t let him do it, especially on her account. A second later, she realized neither man was aware of presence yet. Marcus answered Tommy. “Why not, Tommy? It isn’t often a man gets to fuck a good-looking babe with a shaved pussy, let alone one with such nice boobs.” Liz gasped, which broke through as a sob, at his hurtful words. She knew Marcus hadn’t heard her approach before he spoke. But both men turned when her cry sounded. He had to see the tears in her eyes, as she looked right at him. She tried to make sense of his words. Had yesterday and this morning meant nothing more than convenience?
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Damn it all to hell! Marcus cursed silently. He had only been using those words to provoke Tommy, to hurt him. Of course, his only excuse was he wanted to hit the younger man out of the jealousy he felt whenever he thought about him with Liz. But he sure as hell hadn’t meant what he was saying. Marcus experienced a sudden ringing in his ears as he saw the tortured, hurt look on Liz’s face. His words were meant solely for Tommy. The need to scare away the kid and get him the hell out of Liz’s apartment had overwhelmed him. He’d given in to the temptation. Now, he was left standing here looking like a fool, and one who couldn’t hold his temper. His jealousy had never been a problem in the past, and he was confused as to why he was experiencing such caveman-like urges to claim and protect Liz. Marcus stepped towards Liz, but stopped as she held up her hands, palms towards him, as if to ward him off. Before he could explain, Liz was running back up the beach. He went to follow her. Instantly, Tommy grabbed his arm again. Frustrated, and more than a little angry with himself, he turned. The punch that grazed his left eye landed unexpectedly. Before he could wipe away the blood trickling down, Tommy got a second punch in to his midsection. Surprised at having the wind knocked out of him, he dropped to one knee in the sand. Tommy stood, fists clenched and obviously ready to throw a few more punches. Marcus could see the young man was fighting his need to apologize to his boss, and his need to run after Liz. A few moments later, Marcus stood and wiped away the trail of blood with the back of his hand. He looked at the blood and cursed the fact he didn’t have a handkerchief. Reluctantly, he realized he needed to clean up before he went back to the house because his mother would have a conniption fit if she saw him now. His father might decide to fire Tommy, which they could not afford to do, so he made a quick suggestion. “Come with me, Tommy. Let’s get cleaned up before we go back. I don’t think the ladies would react too well to us right now. A friend of mine has a house another two hundred yards up the beach.” Marcus turned and started towards his friend’s beach house. Tommy reached his side after a few yards, walking quickly to match Marcus’ step. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tommy rub his bruised and scraped knuckles. A few more minutes of walking passed before Marcus knocked on the back door of another home on the beach. An old college friend of his opened it. “Hello, Peter,” Marcus greeted his friend. “Can we use your kitchen and clean up?” The other man looked at the two men and then let them in, shaking his head. He pointed to the kitchen sink and the towels and sat at the table to finish his coffee.
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Marcus finally turned from the sink, pressing a paper napkin to his forehead. “Sorry, Pete. This is Tommy Geller. Peter Wells.” Pete grinned, while he nodded at the younger man. “This time of the morning, must be a woman in this somewhere. Will she be joining us, hopefully?” Marcus laughed, shaking his head. “Any more coffee?” Pete nodded towards the pot on the counter. Marcus filled himself a cup and one for Tommy, who was washing his hand at the sink now. Not waiting for the younger man to finish, he carried both cups to the table. Sitting, he took a sip of coffee before looking at his friend. “You really are a smart-ass, you know.” Pete grinned even more. “I know. But I’m right, aren’t I?” Marcus looked at Tommy as he sat down and gingerly sipped his coffee. Marcus then nodded. “Yes, but things aren’t as simple as that.” Pete shook his head, looking from his old friend to the younger man. “Are you robbing the cradle, Marcus?” Marcus laughed shortly. “No, I’m not. And before you can dispense any more sage words of wisdom, can you give us a lift back home?” Pete nodded and finished his coffee. “Sure, after I throw on some clothes. Never let it be said I didn’t help a brave knight, even if he was acting a little bit foolish for his age. By the way, you are going to hurt like hell tomorrow. Trust me. I speak from painful, embarrassed experience.” Marcus held his reply, barely. He would be razzing Pete if he had shown up at his door in similar shape. About fifteen minutes later, they pulled up at his parents’ house. He thanked his friend and the two walked inside. He was surprised to find his mother just walking away from the entryway. “Hey, Mom,” Marcus called out, hoping she wouldn’t notice the slight discoloration on his face. “Tommy and I were out taking a walk and ran into Pete. He gave us a lift back.” Catherine turned and saw her son and their guest. “I looked everywhere for you both. Liz called home. She said something has happened and returned to the city immediately. In fact, you only just missed her cab to the airport a few minutes ago. I hoped I could find one of you to talk to her before she left. She seemed quite upset, but I didn’t feel I should pry.” Marcus stopped at his mother’s words. Left? Liz was gone! He couldn’t believe it. He felt like he had been hit in the stomach, but it hurt much more than just a human punch could hurt. “How long ago did she leave, Mom?” he asked tersely. Catherine gazed at him and then at Tommy. 57
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Marcus saw her surprise that he expressed more concern than Tommy, whom they’d been led to believe was Liz’s boyfriend. Catherine paused and glanced at her watch. “I guess about ten or fifteen minutes. I got distracted in here, straightening up the flowers, and sorting the mail—” The door connecting the two rooms open banged open as Marcus rushed through. He saw the open closet and empty drawers. Everything she’d brought with her was gone. Only the light scent she used was still discernable. He turned and went to his dressing table, looking for his other set of keys. He grabbed them and headed back downstairs. In the breakfast room, he found his mother, father and Tommy seated at the table. Without pause, he spoke, “I’m going after her. I’ll call you later.” He left before his parents could question his strange behavior. Catherine and William looked at one another, embarrassed Marcus was chasing after the woman they assumed was Tommy’s “friend”. Neither said anything, since Tommy just sat there, eating his breakfast complacently. Catherine caught her husband’s confused gaze and shook her head. She was glad when William returned to his meal. She smiled though, as she sipped her coffee. What she’d seen of Liz so far she liked. It appeared the young woman was successfully turning her son’s carefully controlled world upside down. Yes indeed. Slowly, her smile turned into a grin. The power of love and everything messy, which usually goes along with it, was about to be rediscovered by her son. His perfect world would soon be topsy-turvy. “What’s so funny, Cat?” William asked a few seconds later. Catherine shook her head. Even though he was a parent, he was foremost a man. She knew he just wouldn’t see the humor or appreciate the situation in the same way.
***** Marcus stopped at the entrance drive to the small municipal airport. Several flights a day flew from here into New York each day. Hopefully, there hadn’t been one prior to his arrival. He left his car and ran into the lobby. Inside was like most small airports, where the few check-in counters for the entire airport were easily seen with a quick glance, and the waiting areas for the individual flights were down the hall. He didn’t see her, so he took off along the outside of the glass-walled hallway. He looked across the hall into each of the small, mostly deserted waiting rooms as he jogged the distance. He hoped it wasn’t a busy day at the airport, so she would be easy to spot.
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He found her in the last waiting area, alone. Even the check-in counter was empty. She sat looking out the window at the open tarmac, staring at nothing in particular. Marcus leaned against the glass, one hand pressed flat as he watched her for a moment seeing how the sun highlighted the golden strands in her blonde hair. From the rear position, he could see the slight slump to her shoulders and back. Even though he couldn’t see her face, he knew she was not smiling. He had screwed up royally. He took a couple of steps towards her, but realized he had to backtrack to gain access to the hallway first. Airport personnel stopped him as he tried to hurry through the scanning doorway. “You have to have a boarding pass, sir,” the dark-haired woman told him when he reached the security point. Marcus looked around and saw the security guard he knew. “George!” He waved at the man. George approached Marcus, smiling. “Hello, Mr. Waters. Is there a problem?” “A friend of mine is in the waiting room at the end of the terminal, and I need to talk to her. It will only take a few minutes.” Marcus smiled, hoping he’d get in this way. “I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t get past here without a ticket.” Marcus didn’t move for a few seconds and then turned away in disgust. He ran to the ticket counter and purchased a ticket. When he returned to the scanning security checkpoint, his belt set off the alarm. George slowly guided the detecting wand up and down his body. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, he once more sprinted down the hallway towards the waiting room where Liz awaited her flight’s arrival. Stopping at the entrance to the small room, he watched as Liz straightened in her chair, stiffening and then slowly turning in his direction. He saw the startled and hurt look that she didn’t have time to conceal. As Liz’s eyes focused on the intruder of her solitude, she blinked to clear the tears. She gasped and jumped to her feet. Being followed was the last thing she’d expected, considering his words a short time earlier. Raising her hands as if to ward him off, she backed away. Her retreat stopped when she realized what she was doing. She wasn’t running from him, as she told herself again, for perhaps the hundredth time that morning. No. This was merely a change in plans, returning home a little sooner. “Go away, Marcus. We have nothing to say to each other.” She turned her back on him and sat once more with her spine stiff and straight. She looked out the window, wishing him silently a million miles away. She knew Marcus moved over and sat next to her when she felt the heat from his body warming her side. Annoyance flashed through her that she was so sensitive to his presence.
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Immediately, she moved away one chair. Unhurriedly, but deliberately, he scooted onto the chair she had just occupied, still not saying a word. Fighting the need to look at him, she moved again. Marcus growled under his breath and followed her again, but this time he reached out and grabbed her arm just as he sat. Liz turned, glared at his hand and then at him. “Please remove your hand.” She looked back out the window. Marcus slowly lifted his hand. “Liz, we need to talk.” Liz shook her head, keeping her head turned away. “I heard everything I needed to hear back on the beach, thank you.” She didn’t want to think any longer on why his words had hurt her so much. First, words alone shouldn’t have affected her at all. But even if they had, wasn’t this precisely what she wanted? A strictly physical relationship should be her goal. Just fucking, right? No one gets hurt. That is what she had told herself each time she dared to think on the subject. No, she wasn’t going to think about it. Not right now. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Marcus leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. He lifted his left leg to rest his ankle atop his right knee. To the casual observer, he looked completely relaxed. Liz could feel the tension and anger emanating from his body, so close to hers. If possible, she straightened her spine even more, still looking slightly away from him and out the window. Too bad, there wasn’t at least a plane out there to focus on. The distraction would be helpful. Marcus could almost feel the cold chill coming from Liz’ stiff body. He wasn’t letting her get on a plane, though, and fly away with this unsettled between them. He wanted to reach out and hold her close, but clenched his hands to prevent from doing so. “You don’t understand—” Liz turned her head at his words, glaring with her coldest gaze. “I happen to have perfect hearing, thank you. I am rather adept at understanding the English language. Just what part of it do you think I didn’t comprehend? The ‘any guy would fuck a shaved pussy part’ or the ‘great tits’ parts? Your true feelings seem quite evident.” She turned away quickly. “Liz, honey, you don’t—” He broke off as he almost said understand again. “I didn’t mean for you to hear them. And you have great boobs is what I said.” For a second, he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He waited to see if he’d made things appreciably worse. “I can believe you didn’t want me to hear it. You were still hoping for two more days of fucking before kissing me off!” “Liz, honey…look, sweetheart, I can explain. I had a good reason.”
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Liz shot another angry glance in his direction, stopping his next words. “Don’t call me ‘honey’!” His stomach clenched and he knew instantly he’d just experienced one of those “if looks could kill” from Liz. “You don’t have to call someone you are just fucking honey. I’m sure it is written in an etiquette book somewhere.” Liz faced forward, folding her arms. Marcus bit back a shout of laughter at her biting humor, although he was sure she hadn’t meant it to be funny. “Liz, I only said those things to get at Tommy. I don’t know…I guess I was—” “Tooting your masculine horn? Showing off you could take away what you thought he had? Territorial? What’s next? Marking me as your personal property? Perhaps you could have me branded.” She paused, gulping back her emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Gesturing a brush-off movement with her hand, she went on, “Well, I am not something you can just have or own.” Before he thought about it, he reached out and touched the red spot on her neck. “Actually, I did that already. Not to mention the one on your breast.” He pointed towards her right breast. “And there is a small one on your inner left thigh.” He should have kept his mouth shut. No way could he reach her sense of humor, now. “Liz, honey—” He broke off abruptly as he recalled what she’d said about calling her that. “Liz, let’s go back home and we can discuss this in private. We can go up to your room—” Liz jumped up and turned to scowl again. “What, so you can fuck me some more? Or maybe you think you can fuck some sense into me, is that it? What’s the term? Fuck me silly. Or perhaps you decided you weren’t quite through with me yet and wanted one last fuck in the shaved cunt with the big tits!” She folded her arms angrily high on her chest, staring, as if defying him to deny her accusations. From her rebellious expression, he guessed she more than half wished he would argue. Marcus stood to face her. “Stop saying that word!” Making no attempt to conceal his frustration, the words erupted. “Why? It isn’t ladylike enough for you? Or it’s okay for you to say it to another guy, but you don’t want your own inadequacies thrown into your face.” “Goddamn it, Liz! I am losing my patience.” “Fine, then just go. I’m sure you can find another pussy to fuck this weekend, so it won’t be a total waste.” Her words ended on a sob and she turned away quickly. Just then, the roar of a plane pulling up drowned out his reply. Liz picked up her bags and started for the boarding gate. An attendant opened the door. “Hello, miss. You’re the only passenger, so there won’t be a long wait. If you’d like to board.” He gestured with his hand towards the door. “As soon as we refuel, they will take off.” He took Liz’s ticket and turned to Marcus. “Your ticket, sir?”
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Marcus stopped, angry when he saw Liz was just going to walk away. “I need to talk to the lady—” “I’m sorry, no one past this point without a ticket.” The attendant closed the door, flipping the latch to lock it. Marcus glowered at the young man, momentarily cursing the new Homeland Security measures. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Liz was already halfway up the short stairway leading to the plane. He watched as she went to step into the plane. He didn’t think she was even going to look back, and he felt something sharp cut through him, deep inside. And then, at the very last second, she did turn, but quickly looked away. Marcus was sure he saw her hand lift to wipe something from her cheek. Damn! She was crying. He considered running to get a ticket, but he could see the ground crew had already finished refueling and were pulling up the stairs. He watched in silence as the door was closed and locked. Maybe he should let her have a few days to cool off and think over what had happened between them. She would have to come to the conclusion he hadn’t really meant those things he had said. How could he have meant them, and only a short time earlier made such passionate love? It made perfect sense to him. Surely, she would come to realize the truth. He watched as the small plane taxied from the terminal and out onto the runway. He waited until it was airborne and had disappeared from view before he actually left the terminal.
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Chapter Six Marcus returned home to find many of their other invited day guests had arrived. Tommy was easily enamored of the sailing, the tennis playing, and Marcus’ young and attractive cousin, Annette. Marcus went out while everyone was having fun around the pool and look at his damaged car. He couldn’t help but wince when he saw the damage and silently estimated the cost of repairs at ten grand, minimum. But if he got Tommy away from Liz, the expense to him would be worth it. Marcus made sure Tommy was kept too busy to consider calling Liz until it was much too late both evenings to do so. On Monday morning, he and Tommy drove back to New York, but this time, Marcus was behind the wheel. When they got to Liz’s, he gave the doorman the keys to park the car. Tommy’s face revealed his surprise, but he did not comment when Marcus came upstairs. Marcus made sure Tommy had no doubt that he was to be out of Liz’s apartment. To ensure all activities occurred on his schedule plan, Marcus had arranged for professional movers to arrive a short time after the two of them were due in town. Marcus was making it quite clear he would supervise the move to ensure it occurred. Upstairs, Tommy used his key to get into Liz’s apartment. Marcus took the brass key ring and removed that key. He slipped it into his own pants pocket and then motioned for Tommy to go on in. Both men paused just inside the door, waiting for Liz to come to see who was there. But no one came, and only silence greeted them. Tommy started for the kitchen. “I’m thirsty. You want a soda, Marcus?” Marcus nodded, but still wondered where Liz might be. He was also looking around the attractive loft apartment. He liked the very homey, lived-in style. It didn’t look cold and professionally decorated. He followed Tommy to the kitchen and sat at the counter bar, sipping the cold drink. Before either man could express their wonder at where Liz was, the doorbell rang. “Probably the movers,” Marcus said softly. Tommy nodded. Marcus could see the younger man was still not one hundred percent convinced this was the right thing to do. On the drive into the city, Marcus had gone over his estimation of repairs, based on what he’d had in the past. Liz’s voice interrupted them a moment later. “Hello?” The doorman’s voice came clearly through the intercom. “The movers are here now, Miss Elizabeth.”
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Marcus walked towards the door, where Liz stood, talking with her doorman. He wished he’d had time to talk to her first. “What movers, Federico?” Liz asked a second later. “You didn’t tell me you were movin’, Miss Elizabeth,” Federico answered at the same time. Liz smiled. “I’m not moving. There has to be some mistake—” She stopped as a masculine hand reached past her to touch the button. She stiffened, most likely because she recognized the gold ring and the expensive golden watch on his hand and forearm. She moved away hurriedly. No doubt, she was wondering how the hell he had gotten into her apartment, Marcus thought as he pressed the buzzer. “This is Mr. Waters, Federico. I just came up with Tommy Geller. Please send up the movers. Mr. Geller is moving out today.” When he saw the dark shadows beneath her eyes, he paused in greeting her. Slowly he released the button. On the one hand, he was glad to see she had slept about as well as he had the past two nights. On the other hand, he didn’t like to think of her hurting and not getting enough sleep. Liz was looking at Tommy. “Why are you moving out? I thought we agreed you would be here until you could afford—” Tommy smiled at Liz, and went into the story he and Marcus had decided upon. “Actually, Marcus’ father had an apartment, it is closer to work, and I can have it really cheap. The opportunity is just too good to pass up.” “But why the rush?” Liz didn’t appear convinced. Marcus answered. “The movers were available today and then not again for another two weeks. No real reason to delay, right, Tommy?” He stopped upon hearing the approach of the movers and swung open the door. “I’ll let you direct the movers, Tommy, and Liz and I will just get out of the way.” Marcus took her arm in his tight grip and led her away from the door. He looked around the apartment, seeing the open door to her studio. He pulled her in there and shut the door behind them. Turning to glare, she spoke, “I don’t believe that story about it being convenient for the movers for one minute. Nor am I convinced your father just happened to remember he had this apartment. Why didn’t he remember when Tommy first came to town and was living in the hotel?” Liz crossed her arms defiantly. For a moment, he watched her and then decided to wander around her studio for a bit to let her calm down. He looked at the different drawings and sketches, some finished and others in different stages of completion. The whole time he took quick glances at her face, trying to decipher from her expressions what she was thinking and feeling. As he stood in front of the large windows, he pondered his next move. He wished he could read her more easily. She was the first woman he’d ever had this problem with. He finally turned to gaze at Liz.
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“The truth?” At her short nod, he continued. “I wanted him out of here, and he gave me the perfect way when he wrecked my car. He can’t afford to cover the repair costs, so I gave him this option.” “But why still do it, now I’ve discovered the truth? You think I am going to let you—” Marcus interrupted. “Liz, what is between us, is just that. It only concerns us. I want him out of here and away from you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, like you are a fresh plum he can’t wait to taste. I saw him Saturday morning, with his hands on your ass. I don’t want him here, with you, any longer.” Liz didn’t want to believe the sincerity in his gaze. If she did, then that would make her pain even deeper. Knowing he had hurt the same as she this last weekend would only make her feel worse. The pain she wished upon him was only if he’d been cold and heartless. Thinking of him as sensitive, caring…well, it was just too much. She turned away. “You mean you don’t want another man fucking me, when you aren’t around, don’t you? Afraid you might come around to find sloppy seconds sometime?” Marcus strode across the room and grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him. “Goddamn it! Don’t ever refer to yourself like that again, do you hear me? That’s not it at all—” His speed and fury astounded her. “Oh really? What if I were to tell you I had already decided to go on?” His shock at her words was blatant. She felt his grip relax on her tender flesh. “What the hell do you mean now?” he asked impatiently. Liz laughed sarcastically. “Perhaps you were right. Why pass up a good thing?” “Liz, you aren’t making any sense.” “I’m only talking about sauce for the goose and sauce for the gander. You obviously enjoyed fucking me. And I certainly enjoyed screwing you. So why stop? When we are in the mood for some great sex, why not get together and just do it?” Liz worked hard to sound nonchalant. Swallowing against a dry throat, she painfully forced out the next words. “I believe the current phrase is booty call, right?” Marcus just stared for a moment. He shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “You don’t have to worry about any more messy scenes, Marcus,” she snapped back quickly. “I have thought it over, and this is the best arrangement for two consenting adults, neither of whom has plans for permanent commitment. As long as it is good and fun, why not do it? Isn’t this the mantra of the young these days?” Marcus watched as Liz moved over to the long leather sofa in the room. She lay down on her side. Propping one hand behind her head, she raised one leg, seductively. She was dressed in a very short top and loose fitting shorts. He had been quite aware of
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her unbound breasts beneath the top. But now, this position allowed him to see up the wide pants leg. He saw she had skipped panties as well this morning when dressing. She kicked off her shoes and then resumed her revealing pose. “And it was fun, wasn’t it, Marcus? The sex between us is very good, isn’t it? And obviously you admire my physical attributes,” she paused and her gaze moved down to where his body revealed his blatant reaction to her pose. She smiled slightly, letting her gaze rove over his body, slowly. “And I do admire your physical attributes also. You most assuredly do put other men to shame.” Marcus flushed from her brash assessment of his body. And damn it, he was pissed, too. She was being so cavalier about what they had had together. He took a step towards her, but stopped abruptly. When he saw her smile widen, he only got madder. As he watched, she stroked one hand up her leg, from her knee, pushing up her pants with her movement. She only went partway and then stopped. She moved on the sofa a little, and then she lifted her top, revealing her naked, firm breasts. Her nipples were already hard and distended. She moved her hand to cup one breast, lifting it a little and offering him the warm flesh. “I almost forgot this is what you most admired, wasn’t it? And you needn’t worry about being interrupted. The door, when slammed as you did, latches so it can’t be opened from the outside. So…” She paused and rolled her nipples with her fingers, tugging slightly, first one and then the other. “How about a quick fuck to make up for lost time?” Marcus was so damn pissed right then, he almost couldn’t see straight. She was cheapening what they had shared more with each passing second. Damn it all, he thought. He was going to teach her a lesson. Striding over to the sofa, he jerked on the opening to her pants. With impatience, he yanked them down and off before Liz could get a single breath in or out. He fell on top of her then, knocking the air from her lungs, lowering his head immediately to her exposed breasts. He sucked her nipples, tonguing them, and then lightly chewing until they were long and hard. His hand went to her pussy and pushed her thighs wide apart, feeling her wetness on her lips. “Good, a wet pussy!” Liz froze as his words fell in the silent studio. A second later, she heard the rasp of his zipper. She heard him speak once more. “No need to delay this fucking any longer then.” His voice was low and husky. “Since you don’t need the romantic niceties, we’ll just get down to business.” He was going to fuck her! Suddenly, the reality hit her hard and she gasped. This was nothing like the wonderful experiences she’d had before. He hadn’t once kissed her lips, and his hands
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weren’t gentle in their caresses. Even the hot, furious first time had been one with intense emotional interactions. His hands were moving her legs apart, touching her inner thighs. As he settled between them, she felt the soft brush of his cock against her wet flesh. Her hips jerked upwards, towards him, in a needy, wanting gesture. Liz told herself she should be angry. No one could argue against her fierce emotions. Her body was operating on a different wavelength and refused to control its wild responses. Her confusion of thoughts and emotions should have made her cold towards Marcus, right? “Damn!” Marcus spoke harshly, pausing suddenly. “I don’t have a condom. Hell!” Liz couldn’t believe what she was hearing. NO! Words left her mouth and she would swear it was without her conscious thought. “It’s safe…I mean, month-wise, for me. And I know I don’t have anything—” she stopped, letting the rest go unsaid. She’d bet the silence was minutes long, not seconds, until she heard Marcus’ reply. “Are you sure? I was tested recently as part of my yearly work physical, and I’m clean, thank God.” Liz nodded quickly. “I’m sure.” She waited tensely for his reply. When he didn’t speak immediately, she blundered on. “Why are so worried about the condom now?” Instantly she regretted her words, nearly covering her mouth with her hand. Had she jinxed the whole situation? Only when doubt entered into the situation had she fully realized just how desperate she was to feel his possession once more. She needed him to make love to her. Her body craved being filled by him. Her body demanded his presence and her orgasm. Time stopped in her world as she waited— Marcus held her gaze. “I’m trying to be a better…hell, boyfriend, I guess!” Liz gasped at his use of the word boyfriend. She caught her breath again when he thrust inside her a few seconds later. With one movement, he was fully embedded within her flesh. He didn’t move as if he waited for her to fully feel him inside her. Then as if he received some unspoken signal, he began taking her vigorously. Liz knew there was no deliberate attempt to hurt her or cause distress. Yet, he was hurried, abrupt, and just fucking her. She felt no pain, and he wasn’t forcing her. More importantly, his caresses weren’t as sensitive or intimate as she’d experienced with him before. Emotion—tender, passionate and real—was what she wanted! Liz pushed at his shoulders. “Marcus, please—” she pleaded softly. Marcus didn’t stop.
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She guessed his frustration with the situation between them, driven beyond control by his passion. He moved his hand between their bodies to find her clit. So easily he found the perfect place to touch her. Liz cried out as her body responded, her thoughts jumbled and her emotions crazy and out of control. “Dear God!” she groaned and then stopped as her body began to shake beyond her control. Her climax washed over her senses like a tidal wave, and her body began jerking and contracting far beyond anything she could have power over. She didn’t want to but she was experiencing exquisite physical release in his arms. And then, she felt him climax as well. Over and over, he shot his hot seed inside her body. Each thrust of his body seemed determined to force his seed as deeply as possible into her body. And then, it was over. He lay above her, and both of their respirations sounded harsh and loud in the silence of the room.
***** Marcus finally moved and his softened cock slid from her body. He stood next to the sofa and looked down at her sprawled body. He could see his cum seeping out of her pussy, down to the sofa. He saw he’d left a couple of red marks on her thighs, and they’d undoubtedly turn to bruises in a short time. He moved up his gaze and saw he had actually marked her left breast with a hickey. Her nipples looked red, and he guessed tender, from his hard sucking. He turned away and saw her shorts on the floor. He picked them up and, not wanting to meet her gaze, dropped them onto her lower abdomen. He realized suddenly the fact she had started it didn’t matter. Liz had begun pulling off her clothes in front of him, taunting him with her actions and words. All he had done was respond as she wanted him to and then had sex with her. Just like they had previously, right? So, why did he feel like a bastard? Unable to look at her another moment, he turned, closing his trousers. He had a bad taste in his mouth. Liz sat up slowly, pulling down her shirt. She slid her feet into the shorts and pulled them up quickly. She moved away from him and over to look out the window. She felt used, and the worst part was she had just about begged him to do it. She hated herself right then, for not demanding… She stopped. She had no right to insist on anything from him. He had never said he loved her, nor even cared a little bit. She couldn’t say he’d assaulted her because she hadn’t said no. She had pushed at him, but at no time had the word “no” left her lips. Hell! She’d invited him to fuck her. Everything about her, every single one of her actions, had screamed yes.
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If he touched her right now, like he had when they were at the ocean, she would turn to him instantly, compliantly. How could he have such control over her body? Why wasn’t she fighting back? This was supposed to be what she wanted…just the sex. Right? Marcus watched Liz from behind. She may not have said no but she had pushed at him, and he hadn’t stopped. He was disgusted with himself. “Liz.” Liz stiffened as he spoke her name. She didn’t turn. He couldn’t see her face, but her posture and tension spoke volumes. “Look, Liz. I have to get to the office. I’ll come over when I get done at work. About six, okay? I can bring some dinner, and then you won’t have to go to any trouble.” Liz nodded, knowing she wouldn’t be able to deny him. She craved his touch, she acknowledged. But then, she remembered something. “I won’t be here. I have to go out around five-thirty, and I won’t be home ‘til after nine.” She didn’t offer any explanation, thinking he probably wouldn’t care. Marcus nodded. He almost asked her what her plans were, but stopped. “I’ll be over around ten then.” He stopped as he realized how his words might sound to Liz. Even to his ears it sounded like an ultimatum, or an order. She could think he was saying he’d be back in time for a booty call. He was as good as saying he’d be here to have sex, and that was it. A booty call! God, he silently admitted he was only making things worse the longer he stayed. He turned abruptly and walked out, closing the door softly behind him. At least he had the presence of mind to leave before he made a bad situation much, much worse.
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Chapter Seven Near the end of the day, Marcus found Tommy in his office. The door was open, and his secretary was off doing who knew what, so he’d walked on in. Tommy was bent over his computer doing what he did best, creating. “All moved in?” Marcus asked nonchalantly. Tommy looked up, squinting as his eyes adjusted from the monitor screen. “Oh, hi, Marcus. Yeah, thanks. No problems. We left Liz’s and got all my stuff from the storage bin in one trip. And what a great apartment!” Marcus sat in the chair across from Tommy’s. “I was surprised when I saw Liz’s apartment. Usually a place like that—” Tommy laughed. “I know what you mean. As she said to me, in New York to get a place like hers you are either over seventy years old, wealthy or fell into a rentcontrolled place.” Marcus formed a steeple with his fingers pressed together, denying his intense interest. “And she falls into the last group?” Shrugging, Tommy leaned back in his chair as he replied. “She inherited the apartment, which went co-op some years ago, from a great-aunt. I don’t know anything more than that.” “Ah, I see. I was wondering if Liz has something planned for tonight.” He tried to sound casual, like if he knew of something, he would plan around it. Tommy paused and pulled out his electronic digital assistant. He pushed some of the buttons and then scrolled for a bit. He looked up finally, saying, “Oh shit! I clean forgot that was tonight!” “What is it?” Marcus asked, still trying to stay relaxed, casual about it all. But obviously whatever Liz had planned, she had informed Tommy, and it was important. Tommy hurriedly closed and saved his work on the computer. Marcus repeated his question, a bit louder. Tommy looked up. “Sorry, Marcus. This is the opening of her stuff at the gallery. I promised her I would escort her.” He stopped and looked at his watch, and then picked up the phone, dialing Liz’s home phone number. “Shit! The phone’s just ringing. She has probably already left. I completely forgot about it when I said goodbye to her this afternoon. Damn!” He stood and pulled on his suit jacket. “Wait!” Marcus stopped him again. “What gallery? Where is it?” Tommy looked distracted as though a million ideas and thoughts were still chasing around in his head, even though he had turned off his computer. “The show is at the
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waterfront gallery at the new mall down there. I have to run or I’ll never make the start. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tommy ran down the hall. Marcus stared after him for a few moments. He knew the gallery. While the place wasn’t one of the largest or the most exclusive in town, it was very good and always had interesting shows. And the only good thing about this screwed-up day so far was that he knew the owner. He walked back to Tommy’s desk and picked up the phone. A few minutes later, he was talking to the owner, Paul Tingley, personally. He hung up after a short conversation and then went back to his office. He finished the last few necessary items that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. A quick glance at his wrist showed the time was five-thirty. He would go back to his apartment and change into a tuxedo, then go on over to the gallery. He wanted to give Liz some time alone with the other patrons.
***** Liz arrived at the gallery early. Guessing Tommy would forget, she hadn’t waited for him. He had obviously been tied up at work, and she knew this had been a hectic day, what with the moving and all. She wore a black dress that was very sedate-looking from the front, being high-necked, long-sleeved, close-fitting to the waist, and then flared into a full knee-length skirt. When she turned away, though, the dress fell in gently draped folds from her neck to reveal her back almost all the way down to the point of no return. From the front she was very discreet, and the simple artist of all these lovely art drawings. But from behind, she was drop-dead sexy. Her hair coiled into a simple knot at the back of her head, and she wore very little makeup tonight. She had had to conceal the puffiness from her tears this afternoon and sleepless nights, but beyond that the only color was a soft mauve shade highlighting her full, painted lips. Paul Tingley, the gallery owner, had greeted her warmly and they had gone over a few final details, as they wandered around each piece. His assistant alerted him to attend to a phone call from a customer, who insisted on speaking only to the owner. Liz took several deep breaths, in hopes of calming herself. She tried not to get caught up in worrying about the outcome, but concentrate on enjoying the moment. This show had been a lucky happenstance, and she did hope this helped her art career. Not having to rely so heavily on graphics and freelance jobs would be a real boon. While she managed to sell individual drawings regularly, finding some success through this show would help her relax and feel less pressure. The opportunity to become established and possibly gain a following was an exciting prospect. She reminded herself not to fret and worry the time away. Better yet to take a deep breath and simply live in the moment. Still, as Paul returned a few minutes later, she couldn’t resist crossing her fingers. The event went quite smoothly, with a nice-sized crowd coming for the initial opening of the gallery and introduction of the artist. Liz spoke for just a few moments 71
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and saw Tommy rush in just as she began her short introduction about her work and even more briefly about herself. After she finished, she made her way over to him, smiling ruefully at his tousled hair and flushed face. “Forgot, huh?” she stated simply. Tommy flushed even more at her accurate assessment. “I’m thirsty and starving, I know that much.” Liz smiled. “Come on, you poor starving genius. The hors d’oeuvres and drinks are over here.” She heard Tommy’s low whistle behind her. She glanced back over her shoulder and grinned, but kept on walking. At the large serving table, she gestured at the nice assortment of finger foods. She asked for two glasses of champagne as Tommy filled a small plate with food. She sipped her drink, too nervous to eat just yet. She reminded herself to eat something soon, before the drink went to her head. Tommy ate several of the small food items. “I don’t know what some of these are, but they all taste pretty good so far.” He accepted the glass from Liz. Taking a sip between bites, he looked around the room that was filled more than half way. “Nice turnout, I think.” Liz nodded. “I just hope I sell a piece or two. I’d like not to worry about rent for a while!” Tommy smiled at her jesting. He hadn’t thought she was hurting for money, seeing her nice apartment, but then you never really knew with some people. “I see Paul signaling.” Liz downed her champagne with a gulp. “I hope he has someone interested in meeting the artist. Hopefully, that will be a good sign. Wish me luck and I’ll catch up with you later, Tommy.” Tommy watched the seductive sway of Liz’s hips as she walked quickly across the floor to where the owner stood with an elderly couple. He hoped she sold some things. All of sudden, he knew with a certainty he and Liz would never have been any good together. Of course, this last weekend had opened his eyes. First was the realization she was involved with Marcus. He would never judge her, but he did know until the museum party they had been strangers. Watching their brief interaction at her apartment this morning, he had been intensely aware of the electricity crackling between them. Obviously, whatever they had was explosive. Reluctantly he’d come to accept Liz would always see him as the much-younger charge she had had when she sat with him. Ever since he’d seen her again, her attitude towards him had always bordered on that of a friendly older sister. Not once had it really varied. With a shrug, he was mildly shocked it didn’t hurt as much as he had expected. Following this acceptance, he recalled how frequently his thoughts strayed throughout the day to Marcus’ attractive cousin, Annette. He’d met her after Liz left. Barring the car accident, he’d had a damned good weekend and a lot of it was due to Annette.
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He finished all the food on his plate and asked for a refill on the champagne. Deciding to wander around for a bit, he looked at the smallest of her pieces. He wished he could buy one, if only to help her out. Finally, he came to the largest drawing on display, a very sensual drawing of lovers, possibly two feet high. Looking at it intently, he knew he’d never seen it in the studio and wondered how new it was. The man stood behind the woman, with a knee just parting her thighs by nudging one leg slightly forward. Her arms were lifted above her head and reached back towards the man. The man’s hands were placed suggestively to make it easy to guess what might happen next. His left hand was caught moving down the underside of her upraised arm, and his right hand was just a breath away from touching her most intimately. He noted the woman was shaven, but the man was hidden too much to see. Tommy started to step away, knowing he could not afford such an expensive piece, when he heard a voice behind him. “That drawing is hotter than most X-rated movies.” Tommy turned and smiled at Marcus. “No kidding! Whew! And look at the price?” Tommy leaned forward and then caught his breath, whistling low between his teeth. “Wow! This one is sold already! This is great. Liz was hoping she would sell a couple of little pieces. I bet she never thought one of the big ones would sell. This should pay her bills for next month, at least,” he added jokingly. Marcus frowned. “Is she having financial troubles?” “I don’t think so. She was kidding earlier, I think, when she talked about selling to pay the rent.” Marcus nodded. “Where is she, by the way?” Tommy moved out a bit so he could get a better view of the crowd. He saw Liz still talking to the older couple. “Over there, next to the tall silver-haired guy, with her back to us.” Marcus let his gaze roam over the crowd, sighting a tall man with hair like Tommy described, and then looked down. He choked on his champagne as he saw the naked length of her back. “Damn!” he said softly under his breath. Tommy grinned. “No shit! That is almost what I said when I first saw the back of her dress. Or I should say ‘lack of a back’.” He turned to look at the drawing again. “You know, the more I look at this, the more I think I know these people.” Marcus gazed at the drawing. The woman’s body drew his attention, and he slowly took in the lush curves, until he reached the place where the man’s hand was about to touch the woman. On the woman’s hip was a distinctive mark. He leaned a little closer, and then jerked back in surprise. It was a birthmark, not an accidental pencil mark. And it exactly matched the birthmark Liz had on her hip. For a moment, he wondered if she had posed in front of a mirror while sketching it.
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His gaze went to the man standing just behind the woman. He looked at the face and thought it looked a little like him, but not a whole lot. Remembering the scar on the back of his right hand, his gaze went down the drawing, but there didn’t appear to be a scar. He started to breathe a sigh of relief. But then he thought if it wasn’t a likeness of him, then who the hell was the man? Tommy laughed. Marcus looked over at him. His feelings of anger and jealousy welled up inside him. “You keep staring at it that closely and the gallery owner will make you buy it. Oops, you can’t, I forgot someone else beat you to it,” Tommy joked, grinning. Marcus glared at Tommy. Suddenly wanting to speak to his friend, Paul Tingley, he used the excuse of seeking some food and left the younger man. He located Paul in one of the smaller rooms of the gallery, discussing a drawing of Liz’s. Paul excused himself when he saw Marcus. “What a pleasure, Marcus! I wasn’t sure after your phone call whether you would be coming. I assumed since you’d had me tag a larger piece before the good ones were all snapped up you wouldn’t stop in.” Marcus shook his friend’s hand. “So tell me, Paul, have you sold more than the one I bought?” Paul laughed. “You wouldn’t have a personal interest in their selling, would you?” Marcus shrugged. “Not at all, just curious.” “They are selling very well. I admit your calling to buy the most expensive piece here took me back a bit. Quite often, with an artist’s first appearance in a new gallery, buyers tend towards smaller, less expensive ones. Luckily for Liz, we’ve been selling several of the larger, presentational pieces, as well as the ones usually purchased by private collectors. She really deserves this success.” Forcing himself to clamp down on the jealous feeling at his friend’s praise, he didn’t say anything for a moment, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t used to the green-eyed monster feelings in regards to women he dated. Why it reared its ugly head at Tingley’s homage struck him as out of the ordinary. Being honest with himself, he didn’t particularly care for experiencing the emotions now. Not that he seemed to have any control at the moment. Clearing his throat, he told Paul, “Have the drawing sent to my office tomorrow.” He took a check from his inner suit pocket, already made out, and handed it to Paul. “Do you want a receipt for this now?” Marcus shook his head, looking around at some of the people browsing around the gallery. “Have you met the artist?” Paul asked a few seconds later. “I think she would enjoy meeting the buyer of her most expensive work, don’t you?”
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Pausing, he turned back a moment later. Marcus shook his head. “No, you stay here, Paul, and keep selling to other fat wallets. I’ll wander around for a little bit longer before I take off.” “Hey! Don’t you want to know which piece you purchased?” “Oh, yeah. What is it called?” “Forbidden. It’s raised a lot of buzz. I have no doubt I could have sold it to several other people, especially when Liz flushed a pretty pink after someone asked if she was the model.”
***** Liz finally got home at a quarter before ten. She kicked off her shoes, wondering if her feet could possibly hurt more. Beyond the hunger twisting her stomach and the pain in her feet, she only wanted to lie down. Wandering into the living room, she did not turn on any lights. A flash of light revealed she was not alone. Gasping as she saw someone lying on the sofa, she started to turn, when the light next to the sofa came on. She saw Marcus stretched out on her sofa, shoes and jacket off, and his shirt halfway unbuttoned, a smoking cigar dangling from one hand. She noticed the pleated shirt and the tie lying loosely around his neck. He had obviously been somewhere requiring a tuxedo. She pushed back the feelings of jealousy that reared up inside her. Refusing to acknowledge the visions of beautiful women in his arms, she asked him, “How did you get in here?” “The doorman recognized me from earlier.” Marcus let his gaze travel over her curves, barely concealed by the black dress. “That doesn’t explain how you got in through a locked door.” Liz put her hands on her hips. Marcus pointed towards the champagne with his cigar, chilling in a silver bucket, and several Styrofoam containers containing food. Protests died on her lips. The food smelled too damn good to Liz. Her stomach didn’t give a hoot what her heart, and her head, were telling it. A second later, the hungry organ growled loudly in the near-silent room. Marcus grinned and swung his feet to the floor. He took the champagne bottle and deftly released the cork. He poured the expensive bubbling liquid into the crystal glasses and held one out to Liz. She took it warily, sipping slowly. First, she had to state her heartfelt wishes. “Please put out the cigar. I don’t let anyone smoke in my home.” On this she would be steadfast. She waited to see what he said, or did. Waiting wasn’t long at all and Marcus stubbed out the barely smoked Cuban cigar. “Not a problem,” he murmured. Liz swallowed back her smile even as she tried to fight back her hunger. She had not anticipated anything to eat yet, and all the champagne was going to her head as she 75
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took a few more sips. Marcus had just opened the takeout containers and she saw two meals of grilled chicken and vegetables on a bed of rice. Her mouth watered as she inhaled deeply. Marcus patted the cushion on the sofa beside him, putting a fork on the coffee table for her. Liz couldn’t resist. She set down the nearly empty glass, reaching for the food. She took a bite of grilled chicken and almost sighed with happiness. She made no effort to disguise the blissful look on her face. Smiling behind his glass, he sipped his champagne slowly. “Taste good?” he asked simply, leaning forward to top off her glass. Liz nodded her mouth too full of food to answer. Marcus picked up his own container and started to eat. Silence reigned as they both ate slowly. Marcus refilled her champagne glass twice more. Finally, Liz set down her plate, drank the last drop of champagne, and then fell back against the cushions. Unconsciously, she rubbed her stomach. “I’m stuffed.” Marcus chuckled softly. He looked at her face, where her eyes had drifted shut. He reached over, turning away her face. A sign of either her tiredness or the alcohol, but she didn’t put up the slightest sign of resistance. He began pulling out the pins holding her hair in place. He put them into his pocket and then slowly worked his fingers through the strands of her hair, until it lay straight. He was a little surprised when Liz turned her back towards him, giving him easier access to her hair. He slid his fingers under her hair and began gently massaging her scalp. Liz moaned and her head rolled around as he gently relaxed her. “That feels so good,” she murmured softly. “I hate wearing my hair up, but Pete said I should try and look professional. He told me the bohemian artist-style is totally passé.” Marcus sat sideways on the sofa, and then after a few more minutes of gentle massage, his hands moved to her neck and shoulders. He let his gaze travel over her naked back while his hands stayed modestly on her neck and shoulder area. When he moved his hands to her upper arms, she didn’t protest. His hands gently pulled her backwards, and she still didn’t fight him. He lay back on the sofa, with Liz sprawled on top of him. He had completely unbuttoned his shirt, so her naked back was now lying against his exposed chest. He confined his hands to her shoulders or upper arms now, caressing, rather than massaging. He knew he was doing his best to seduce her, since he had consciously continued to refill her glass while she ate. He wasn’t ashamed to admit at this point, he didn’t really care about whether such an action was ethically correct or not. Hopefully making love to her tonight would help heal some of the damage done this afternoon. When Liz shifted into a more comfortable position, Marcus slid his hands down and cupped them over her breasts. He was pleased to find them unbound, as he had suspected. Running his fingers over them lightly, he teased until her nipples peaked 76
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beneath the black material. His hands curved over her breasts then and began a gently, rhythmic massage. He moved his lower body against hers, matching the movements of his hands. Soon, he noticed that even though Liz’s eyes were still closed, her hips had begun to move also. As he looked down over her body, he was nearly overwhelmed by its sensual beauty. He took away one hand to find and then fumble to release the dress’s closure at the neck. Marcus slowly moved the dress down her body, until it was just below her breasts, holding her arms flat to her sides, should she try to move them. Her nipples were taut and distended when he returned his hands to cover them again. He once again began his massage of the full mounds. Her hips moved again, as if seeking something. Her gentle gyrations were making his aroused body harder with each gentle brush and slide of her round bottom. He gently shifted their positions until he was lying to the side and above her. He lightly stroked her face with his hand, until her eyes opened. A few moments passed before she focused on him through slightly fogged eyes, but then she smiled. She pulled her arms free and moved them to caress his shoulders and neck. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down to kiss his mouth. Hers was open and eagerly sought out his tongue. Moving quickly, her hands pulled his shirt open the rest of the way, free of his trousers, and pushed it off his shoulders. When Marcus lifted up to remove it the rest of the way, Liz’s hands went to his pants, quickly undoing the button and sliding down the zipper. One hand slipped inside and curled around his hard manhood. Marcus groaned at the sheer overwhelming sensuality of her touch. He began pushing her dress up. A thrill ran through him as he discovered she wore no panties, just a garter belt and black silk stockings. Briefly, he considered talking about girls who didn’t wear panties, but he decided he wasn’t her papa, and he would enjoy her state if he were out with her. Her hands had moved back to his pants, trying to shove them down to his thighs. Marcus had to stop and move away her hands before her gentle, fumbling touch did more harm than good. He shifted above her. Liz immediately spread her thighs wide open and lifted them. As Marcus settled between them, she wrapped them around his hips, preparing for a fantastic ride. Marcus groaned at the feel of his hard cock rubbing her soft, wet slit. He felt like it had not merely been hours but weeks, months since he had last been inside her. Ignoring the condom in his pocket, remembering what Liz had told him earlier, he waited no longer and thrust into her open, eager and needy body.
*****
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Liz gasped, not from discomfort, but the incredibly wonderful feeling of being filled by him. She had needed him so much, and yet she had not wanted to put a name to her need. She didn’t want to acknowledge how deep these feelings went. As if belying her thoughts, her hips moved forward and back, inviting him to set his own rhythm. When he did, she cried out softly, her body straining to keep him inside, where he belonged. He lowered his mouth and kissed her again. Liz held him tightly as he thrust madly into her body, over and over. She kissed his cheek and moved her mouth to his neck, just a bit in front and below his right ear. As her tension built, she licked his hot skin. And suddenly, her passion rushed through her. She bit his skin to stop from crying out as her body jerked and spasmed in his arms. Her cunt milked his cock, trying desperately, as if her next breath depended on it, to hold him inside and not let him withdraw. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Her desire for him seemed almost as great as needing shelter and nourishment. Deep inside was fear. Her mind suddenly rebelled at putting words to it, as if then it would be undeniably true, and inevitable. Quickly, she breathed in deeply, drawing in the scents surrounding them. Mingling with the musky odor of sweat was the lingering light sweetness of her perfume. If this were to be the last time she was with him, then she wanted to remember every single detail. Marcus, feeling her body suck him deeper, milking his cock, knew it was too much to resist for much longer. Stiffening, he emptied himself into her body. His body thrust forward again and again, shooting his cum deep inside her heat. Finally, one last move and he fell forward, trying not to crush her. He tried to move away, but Liz still had her legs locked around his hips. “No, wait!” she murmured softly. “Stay—” Marcus had never heard anything as sensually erotic before as her simple request. He lay above her, feeling her soft aftershocks, gentle contractions, as he stayed inside her body a few minutes more. How incredibly sweet it felt to have her flesh still massaging his cock, long after he was depleted. It felt like her pussy was sucking, nibbling and trying weakly to hold onto him. He finally pressed up and away. “We need to go to bed, sweetheart,” he told her softly. He stood next to the sofa looking down. She looked so wanton lying there. Her dress shoved to just below her breasts, pushing them up a bit. Her thighs were wide open, and his cum seeping from her stillopen slit. He felt himself getting hard all over again, just looking at her. He reached down and grabbed her hands, pulling her upright, ignoring her protests. With a gentle push, he followed as she led the way to her bedroom. Her dress slipped slightly, the skirt part falling down into place, but the bodice was left bunched at her waist. He realized as he watched her that sometimes her simplest of actions were 78
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more erotic than any courtesan’s could be, done deliberately to entice. He watched her bottom jiggle a little as she walked and barely resisted the urge to reach out and cup those full, round globes. In the bedroom, he quickly shucked his own clothes, and then pulled her dress over her head. Carefully, he eased off the garter belt and stockings, and finally he adjusted the bed linens down. She got in and he covered her up. He wasn’t sure her eyes had ever completely opened. Coming around to the opposite side of the bed, he crawled in. Without thinking about it, he moved up close behind her and held her spoon-style. Letting the warmth of her body seep into his, he snuggled close. His cock nestled between her soft, round cheeks. A slow, deep breath left his body. The overwhelming sense of rightness crept through him. Deliberately, he shifted his hand from her waist upwards until he cupped her upper breast. For a moment, he just let the warm heaviness settle. Within a few seconds, an awareness of heat traveled up his arm and across his chest. In the back of his mind, fighting for attention against the extreme fatigue the last tension-filled week had wrought, was a niggling. This feeling, which was unusual and right whenever he was with Liz, demanded his full and undivided concentration and consideration. He was used to putting his feelings about women on the back burner, and they stayed there. This situation with Liz was not being cooperative. A huge yawn escaped a second later. Physical and mental exhaustion won. He was asleep in a few minutes.
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Chapter Eight Liz woke slowly, wanting to ignore the slight ache behind her eyes. She moved her legs, stopping when she felt the wetness at the juncture of her thighs. The night’s events came rushing back. With a moan, she pulled the covers over her head, groaning as she rolled to her side in the bed. She felt a little sore also, which shouldn’t surprise her, when she recalled Marcus had awakened her twice more during the night to make love. Under the bedcovers, she rubbed her forehead. Her headache intensified as she reminded herself he was really just having sex with her and there was no love involved. He had never once said he loved her, but neither had she, her logical side rushed to remind her. Somehow, it didn’t make her feel any better. The second time had been explosive, Liz recalled. He had taken his time, working her to passion while she drowsed…not asleep, but not completely aware, either. And then when her body began to demand more attention, he had kissed her awake. He, of course, had supplied the extra attention she needed, coming into her wet heat, hard and fast, almost furiously thrusting inside her body, until they both crashed into their climaxes, almost simultaneously. Awake completely, after Marcus had fallen back to lie beside her, she’d started to turn towards him. Then he had snored softly. She had stayed there in the darkness of the night for a long time, rubbing the tears from her cheeks. Reminding herself she’d heard of such things happening to other women, where the man fell asleep right after sex. But it had never happened to her before. Reminding herself almost none of this had every happened before, Liz acknowledged he had certainly kissed her enough during the second time. And this time, his touches had been everything she would describe as caring, concerned, passionate and just about perfect. His lovemaking had been totally different from their time earlier that day. In fact, if she were measuring, his…God! Gulping back her tears, she had nearly admitted it felt like love! Are you crazy? Stop this insanity! She admonished herself until she eventually fallen back to sleep. Several hours later, she had been surprised to feel Marcus’ hard cock pressed between her butt cheeks. She had no idea how long she had slept, but from the taut nipple pressed into his palm and the amount of wetness between her thighs, she guessed he’d been busy for several minutes at least. Once he realized she was completely awake, he had shifted them both in the bed. He had lifted her topmost leg, pulling it back to give him better access to her pussy.
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She was so wet at this point he had no trouble slipping into her dripping cunt. She had tried to pull away, or she told herself she made the effort, when she felt an overwhelming sense of tenderness. Having her emotions mixing with the physical sensations was nearly too much to handle just then. For a moment, she thought by resisting, she could prevent it. But just as every move she made only served to ease his entry into her body, there seemed to be an equal invasion on her feelings. He continued to fondle and cup her breast while he lowered his head to suck on the side of her neck. As his thrusts deepened, so did his sucking on her throat. Liz tried to stop him once, knowing he was leaving a mark on her pale skin, but pointing it out only seemed to make him even more determined to mark her body. Her rational head told her body, even though it was only for few seconds, not to respond to his touch, but her hips were already moving to meet his every thrust. And she felt her spasms come over her more slowly this time, less like a tidal wave and more like a slow-building volcanic eruption. Each muscular contraction drew his cock deeper into her body, milking his cum out of him, sucking him dry. Exhausted as the last of his hot seed shot deep into her body, Liz was nearly asleep almost before he finished filling her cunt. She was dimly aware of Marcus pulling her body tight to his own. His cock stayed inside. On the edge of her consciousness, she dimly felt her cunt squeezing around his softening flesh, pulling it in. That had been her last conscious thought. She realized now she had done the same thing to him he had done to her earlier, by falling asleep. There was no way she could stay awake another minute. The stress of the last few days, combined with the tension she’d felt over the opening, had maxed her out, nerve-wise. Had Marcus felt the same as she had? Was all this stuff between them affecting him? Maybe she wasn’t the only one confused by what was happening between them. Finally, Liz threw off the covers and sat on the side of the bed. She wasn’t surprised her movement caused more liquid to seep from her body. After a few moments, she stood and walked to the bathroom, wanting to ignore the wetness that oozed down her thighs. First she peed and then turned on the shower. Stepping under the water, she let the gentle, comforting warmth cascade down over her head. She washed her hair and then did her usual shaving routine. Finally, she took down the showerhead down and directed the water between her thighs, wanting to flush any sign of their sex together from her body. She paused to wonder if that was why douches were so popular, but then shook her head. To be honest, such thoughts were boggling her mind lately. Truthfully, she didn’t give a damn about douches, or their popularity, or anything else. In the past, indulging her occasionally irrational fits of nonsensical thinking helped with her art, or she believed it did. But now, it seemed to be achieving a life of its own, and the end result was making her a little crazy!
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Right now, the only thing that mattered was the steady stream of water making her feel better. It soothed her tender flesh. As the irritation faded, so did the fierce desire to wash away evidence of the time with Marcus. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. A few minutes later, she walked into her living room, one towel wrapped around her waist and another around her head, turban style. The day stretched out ahead of her, seemingly like all the ones she’d lived before. For a moment, it seemed like nothing had really changed. Abruptly, she stopped. Marcus was seated on her sofa, talking on his cellular phone. Liz was stunned. Every fiber of her being had been convinced he’d left her apartment. From somewhere in her head came the assurance that waking up alone was normal. Affairs were conducted just like that. She saw he had hot coffee on the table in front of him. She also saw he had obviously helped himself to her juice and made himself eggs and toast, by the looks of the remnants on the plate. For several minutes, she watched him silently taking in his rumpled shirt and trousers, and bare feet. She saw his fingers had obviously combed his hair, as it was wet, most likely from a recent shower. Smiling ruefully, she recalled how she’d equated the wet shower floor with the fact she rarely got her faucets turned tight enough. On the other hand, how had she missed damp towels? The appearance of his naked feet, his toes wiggling a little as he spoke on the phone, drove a spike into the hardened wall she tried to keep around her heart. The action, so innocuous and artless, made him seem more like a vulnerable boy than a wealthy, high-powered businessman. Something she did must have caught his attention, for suddenly his head turned, pinning her with his intense gaze. Liz felt the bright flush start at the top of her naked breasts and move rapidly up over her cheeks. She saw his eyes narrow and lower to where her nipples were budded up tight and distended about half an inch. She looked down and saw she’d missed several droplets of water, which were scattered over her naked breasts. When she looked back up, Marcus had just ended his conversation. Standing, he walked towards her. Liz jumped a bit when he wasted no time covering her damp breasts with his hands, squeezing and massaging her sensitive flesh, plumping them for his enjoyment. The remaining water made a smooth sliding surface for his caresses. She looked up and he covered her mouth, seeking her tongue instantly with his own. She told her brain to resist his kiss, but it seemed her body was in control these days. Her head tilted back and the towel fell to the floor, just a second before the one at her waist joined it. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Marcus led her to the sofa. He pulled her to straddle his hips and somehow she wasn’t surprised to feel that he was already hard. The sound of his zipper was loud, followed immediately by her sigh when he lowered her hips and easily entered her body.
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Liz tried to move upwards, but his hands clamped firmly to her hips, directing her movements. His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, until her body stopped resisting him. His hands moved upwards from her hips to cup and fondle her breasts eagerly once again. Almost as if from a great distance, Liz then heard Marcus’ voice, urging her gently, but insistently. “That’s it, honey,” he told her softly. “Move your hips back and forth… Ah, yes, just like that, sweetheart. I love your boobs, honey, so big and round.” He paused to bounce them lightly in his hands, to jiggle them about. “Oh God, Liz—” Marcus groaned. Liz felt something changing inside her. Was it the need she heard in his voice? Could it be that she wanted more from Marcus? Was she willing to give more of herself? Maybe it was the vulnerability she thought she saw in his bare feet. He suddenly seemed more human. None of this changed his feelings, her brain argued. Could she really go through with this if she were the only one who loved in this socalled relationship? Pushing away her discordant thoughts, she took control as she circled her hips around one way, and then back the other. She tightened her inner muscles and squeezed down hard on his hardness. With each move, her body eagerly pulled him deeper. Her damp hair was tumbled around her face. She felt wild, unfettered and on the edge. Pushing back her hair as she lowered her face to his, she kissed him openly, wetly. Marcus slid one hand between their bodies, seeking and finding her clit. Her muscles and nerve endings were so strung out from the sensual night before it only took a few flicks of his fingers, and Liz came hard and fast. Her wetness flooded his hardness moments before he left his seed deep in her body. As Liz’s body slumped against his, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Marcus became aware of her breathing growing more calm and steady, and then he wondered if she had fallen asleep. Tenderly, he kissed her cheek, smoothing back her still damp hair. The longer she stayed motionless, joined with him, Marcus could feel himself growing closer to her. Of course, on the one hand, this didn’t make much sense. No logic could answer this problem. The last thing planned for his life at this point was to get involved in a physical relationship that had all the earmarks of going no further. Not that he wanted it to go any further, he argued silently once more. And yet a niggling little voice kept repeating how sweet and wonderful it was…being with Liz. The question came down to whether he would grow tired of the daily routine that all relationships turned into eventually.
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Suddenly, Liz pushed away from his chest. Her hands pushed her hair back from her face. “If we keep this up, I’ll never get anything done.” Marcus chuckled. “Isn’t that the lament of newlyweds?” The minute the words were spoken, he wished he could recall them. Before he could think of a good follow-up, she did. “At least, I don’t have any thank-you cards to send out.” Liz grabbed one of the towels she’d been using, wrapping it around her upper body. Quickly, she slid off him and walked towards the kitchen. Marcus didn’t move for a moment. He had not expected her flip reply. He had been worried about his insensitivity linking their situation with a newly married couple. Granted these were modern times, but he also knew that most women still preferred marriage to a live-in relationship. Pushing these disturbing thoughts away, he righted his clothing and followed Liz into the kitchen. “I need to get going, Liz, or I’m going to be late to the office.” She nodded, but didn’t turn in his direction. Marcus felt a distinct coolness and he didn’t like it, but he didn’t have the time to get into a long discussion. “Look, honey, I wish I could stay, but I have to make a meeting at the office with my father and a couple board members.” He made a mental note to have his secretary send flowers a bit later on. “I’ll call you later, okay?” he added, thinking about the dinner that was already scheduled with business acquaintances for this evening. “Sure,” she murmured, busily running water into the kitchen sink. “Have a good day!” He stood for a moment, not sure what he wanted or expected. This cool send-off was not it! Turning angrily, he put on his shoes and socks. Next, he gathered his jacket and briefcase and once again returned to the kitchen. “Well, I’m off now,” he announced, pausing for Liz to turn and say something. “Okay. Bye!” With an angry harrumph, he let himself out of the apartment, quietly locking the door behind him.
***** Liz was working in her studio when the flowers arrived. Her doorman called them up, and Liz waited at the door for the deliveryman. She recognized the expensive box from the most exclusive florist in town and knew immediately they were from Marcus. She took them into the living room, set the box on the low coffee table and stared at the box intently. Why had he sent her flowers?
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For almost five minutes she watched before she finally decided to open it. After all, she reasoned, only by reading the card would she know why he’d sent them. Unless he was paying her off… Hell! Isn’t that what wealthy men did for mistresses? Would he next give her diamonds, pearls and luxurious furs? Pressing her hand to her stomach, she hated the thought that accepting his presents would be like payment, for services rendered. At first, she was tempted to toss the box, unopened into the trash. That would show him she couldn’t be bought…no, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t paying her off, unless he was ending it— Coldness filled her and she balled her hands and stuck between her legs, hoping to warm them. Taking slow, deep breaths, she tried to calm her body and her thoughts. Slow down, Liz. You are acting ridiculous. She forced her brain to overcome her emotions and be logical. So…if she threw the flowers away, wouldn’t that show Marcus he could not treat her like he had all his previous women— Mistresses! Her mind balked at the word. God! She hated the thought of him with another woman…women. Jealous? No way could she be jealous. To admit jealousy would mean she felt more than just physical attraction. One minute she wanted him and the next she felt like she was betraying her dreams by being with him. Accepting flowers went against her code of conduct, sort of. While she had decided she would not be Marcus’ mistress, or at least not the kind he would treat with expensive baubles and so on, she had not taken the time to iron out what the relationship really would be. Logically, throwing them away would be a double waste. The flowers had not done any harm in and of themselves, and they had already been sacrificed, so to speak. Pushing her code of conduct and defining it out of her head, she gave in and opened the box. She gasped in surprise at the beautiful red roses inside. They were truly incredible, absolutely perfect. Each one was in the exact same stage of almost fully opened. She saw the card and picked it up slowly. She didn’t know what Marcus’ handwriting looked like, so she couldn’t get angry and say for sure he’d not written the card himself. If she could find something to fault him over, then it might help her bruised emotions. “Last night was incredible,” she read out loud. “I hope you take a long nap this afternoon, for you just might need it before tonight.” She paused. Did he just tell her to sleep so she’d be ready to service his needs tonight? 85
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Unsure if she was surprised at his assumption tonight would be a repeat of last night, she did know that just imagining another night of passionate lovemaking was enough to start the fire burning once more. Perhaps she could deny it would be the same, but he certainly had no right to assume. Her argument was very weak, even to her ears. She knew it. Nothing could guarantee a repeat of the previous evening’s events. That persistent niggling little voice in her head whispered without remorse. Guarantee? Good God, girl, you want it written in stone that he’ll be in your bed tonight and tomorrow and the night after— With a loud sigh, she acknowledged she wasn’t in a very logical mood of late. Her suggestion they use each other for sex was how she got into this situation. How could she get angry since he had done the same last night? Her conscience argued right back it wasn’t as if she’d had a bad time at the party in her bedroom. If perfect, considerate, thoughtful lover needed a description in the dictionary, she’d have to submit Marcus. Granted her experience for comparison was starkly limited. Using her body’s responses to serve as a measurement, last night had been pretty spectacular. She took a deep breath ignoring the persistent and nagging feeling this really was all her fault. If she’d kept her mouth shut— “I’ll call you later to discuss plans for this evening.” Liz finished reading, seeing it was signed Marcus and nothing else. She set down the card on the table and leaned back against the sofa. She wasn’t really sure how she expected him to sign it, but some kind of endearment would have been nice. Even a “sincerely” or generic “take care” would not have been out of place! She argued silently with herself for a few more minutes and then took the flowers to the kitchen and arranged them into a large old clear crystal vase, which had once belonged to her father’s aunt. She took them into the studio, making a free space on the wooden pedestal she often used for things she was going to sketch. She went back over to her table and tried to return to the drawing she had been working on. As if the roses were magnetic, her gaze was drawn to them over and over. Finally, she gave up and took out a large blank sheet of watercolor paper. Her fingers began to draw the flowers even though her brain really didn’t want her to proceed. As often happened, her heart directed her nimble fingers much better than her mind did.
***** The remainder of the day flew by. She skipped lunch and let the phone be answered by the machine, turning the sound off. She literally worked nonstop until she was forced to turn on the overhead lights to continue to work. When the studio door banged open at nine that evening, she looked up, completely surprised.
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Marcus stood in the doorway, his tie askew and the first few shirt buttons undone. His hair looked rumpled, as if his fingers had been dragged through it countless times that day. Liz shoved her own dirty fingers through her hair, no longer caring that each time left more smudges on her cheeks and forehead. “Oh, hi, Marcus.” She stretched slowly, yawning. “My goodness! What time is it?” Marcus glared from across the room. He was still steaming mad. He had tried to call her at least ten times that afternoon, and even later, from the restaurant. Since he couldn’t reach her, he had been forced to go out to the dinner with his parents alone. And since he had gone out of his way to tell them he would be bringing Liz, he then struggled to explain why she wasn’t there. It was a business dinner meeting, but he had still wanted Liz to spend more time getting to know his parents. Hell, even Tommy had brought Annette, the young cousin he’d been introduced to the weekend at Marcus’ parents. He was the only man there without a date, or a wife. To him, the absence of a partner for dinner had felt like a glaring hole. Therefore, he had gone back and forth between anger at Liz for not answering her phone and worry, thinking perhaps she could not answer. He had even contacted the doorman, who verified the flowers had been delivered, and Liz was fine. He made it through the dinner, but was the first to excuse himself immediately afterwards. He had raced to Liz’s expecting to find her sick, or at the very least, asleep in her bed. To find her awake, and drawing, of all things, at this time of the day, only fed his frustration and his anger. He tossed his jacket onto the bookcase just inside the door. He left the door open and strode across the studio towards Liz. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the flowers in the vase, but he didn’t stop until he was glaring at Liz from the other side of her drafting table. He ignored her soft smile. Liz could see his anger reflected in his eyes, and her smile faded slowly. She set down the ten pencils she had been balancing between her hands, and then ran her fingers once again through her hair. Why he was angry was the big question. To delay what now appeared to be an inevitable clash, she rubbed her cheek and then scratched the side of her neck, before ending with a swipe across an eyelid. “Have you been in here the whole damned day?” Marcus asked her, almost shouting. Liz jumped at his unexpected tone and nodded slowly. “I came back in here after the flowers arrived. I…um, what’s the time, by the way?” She held up her wrist, revealing the lack of watch. “I never wear one in here because I like to work according to the mood, not the time. I’m not even sure I own one that works anymore.”
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Marcus glared, but then glanced down at his watch. “It is nine-thirty. Why the hell didn’t you answer the phone? Or at least respond to one of the many messages I left on your machine. I tried calling the whole blasted afternoon. We were supposed to have dinner with my parents! Even Tommy was there with a date!” Marcus broke off and turned away. Liz pushed back her chair from the table and stood slowly. She was unable to stifle a groan as she stood up. Her muscles were complaining sorely of her mistreatment of them. Her hands moved to her lower back, pressing and massaging lightly. She moved away from Marcus, going around the far side of her desk. “I always let the machine answer when I’m working. If I answered every call, I would never get any work done, so I have the sound turned off.” “I told you in the card I would be calling you this afternoon.” Marcus stopped speaking, gesturing with a wide swing of his arm towards the roses. Liz could still hear his anger, even though he did seem calmer, so she walked away and out of the studio. This would give him some time to cool off. As she moved, she realized her back bothered her too much to stand there and argue. She headed straight for her bathroom, dropping her clothes to the floor and stepping into her shower. She turned on the hot water and let it beat down on her lower back. She leaned against the shower glass, letting the water slowly soothe her aching muscles. When Marcus entered the bathroom a few minutes behind her, he saw her naked body pressed against the glass, her eyes closed. He had stopped to turn off the lights in the studio and grab his jacket, or he would have been here sooner. Still angry, he was slowly coming to realize Liz had truly lost track of time, just as she said, and she had not purposely ignored his calls. While he knew things had not been ironed out between them, he had left this morning assured his life was on track. Now he realized she had not listened and screened her calls, deliberately ignoring his. As he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, he acknowledged he had reacted out of his feelings of uneasiness, which he kept pushing down. He wasn’t normally an “ignore it” person, but with Liz, nothing was business as usual. Jealousy was not the issue, he assured himself. Yeah, right! For the first time in his life, he felt the need for reassurance from a woman. His uncertainly shook his core. Though ridiculous, he almost felt like he was a kid who needed to hear her admit how she felt first. He saw Liz stiffen as he moved behind her, but when his hands began massaging her shoulders and then her back, her tension slowly released. As he continued to massage her flesh, he could feel her muscles underneath begin to relax. Liz finally turned to face him. She looked up, blinking at the little bits of water hitting her face as it splashed off his shoulders and chest. She started to say something 88
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when he surprised her again by gently rubbing at different places on her face and neck. She must be covered with smudge marks from her pencils, charcoals and pastels. Reaching out, she took the soap from him, thanking him softly. “I probably look like a clown,” she murmured. As she lathered her hands and began washing her body, she avoided meeting his gaze. “I forgot how much I tend to get on myself.” After she handed him the soap, Liz tried to ignore the sight of his own hands traveling over his hard body. She couldn’t help but notice his hardening manhood and felt the stirrings of desire inside herself. She reached for the shampoo. Marcus took it from her. “Let me,” he offered as he filled his palm with shampoo. “If I do it, there will be less strain on your back.” “All right,” Liz replied, turning again. As he began to wash her hair, his strong fingers massaging her scalp, she closed her eyes in sheer joy. The massaging felt so good she couldn’t suppress the soft sigh and accompanying moan. Slowly, she let her body lean back. Marcus absorbed her weight, her bottom pressing close against his hard cock, which seemed to burrow home between her soft, round cheeks. When his hands moved to her shoulders, it was the most natural thing for his hands to slide down farther and cup her full breasts. As his hands began a sensual massage, the shampoo lather provided the perfect kneading medium. He toyed with her hard nipples, flicking at them, circling them and finally plucking at each taut bud teasingly. Liz knew she could push him away, and maybe she should, considering how angry he had been. But every time he touched her, she melted. The tenderness she felt in his caresses as he eased her sore muscles made her realize how much she wanted. She was beginning to wonder what was wrong with her. She knew there were lots of women having a purely physical relationship… Oprah had done a show on it! What unnerved her was the fact she doubted her ability to keep her head above water and her heart unscathed. She might talk a good line, but only she knew how truly vulnerable she was. Being in love with Marcus still seemed the wrong thing to do…assuming she still had a choice. Finally, Marcus turned her around and pressed her backwards against the tiled wall of the shower. He removed the shower nozzle and began rinsing all the lather from Liz’s body, beginning with her hair. He lifted her leg and directed the flow of the water between her thighs first, and then he turned on the pulsing jets and moved the flow of water to hit her clit as he spread her flesh with his other hand. Liz cried out as the water rushed her to a heated climax so quickly it shocked her. And when he dropped the showerhead and the water sprayed all around madly, Liz moved into his arms and eagerly wrapped her arms and then her legs, around his body. When he slid his hardness into her wet softness, she groaned softly. Marcus slid his hands to cup her buttocks as he thrust into her body. Her eager wetness welcomed him.
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All of her misgivings and doubts throughout the day faded beneath Marcus’ sensual touch. In his arms, nothing seemed to matter. The niggling was still there, but she was now supplying a slightly different answer. Maybe she did feel more than lust. Surely, the tender way he caressed her, spoke her name, were proof he also cared. She opened her mouth to ask him. Her climax came seconds before his. Intensely, she felt each jerk of his body against hers, accepting every drop of cum he shot into her body. Exhausted, she slid down his body and his soft manhood slid from her inner channel. Liz was half aware of Marcus helping her into bed, and placing a towel over her pillow to absorb the water from her wet hair. When he pulled her into his arms, she fell asleep almost immediately. She couldn’t help but be glad her doctor had told her years ago she could not get pregnant; otherwise, she would have been quite worried with all this unprotected sex—
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Chapter Nine The following morning when Liz awoke, she wasn’t sure what to expect. The truth was her world looked different today—exactly why she couldn’t say for sure. Today simply felt better than the day before. Immediately after this thought, Marcus’ name popped into her head. Clear as crystal was the realization he was indeed the major reason for the change. Besides Tommy’s move out of the apartment, nothing else had changed except Marcus. Slowly, she rolled over in bed. Saying that Marcus was the only change in her life made her realize it was a small thing. Now, if they were in love or living together, then she could understand feeling like she was standing on her head. Still, there was no doubt about the effect it had on her. Marcus had changed her life by barging in. Of course, there was every chance once he was satiated, he would be gone. Like a hot knife through butter, she felt pierced in her gut. The pain was real and undeniable, and as much as she wished to blame it on something else, the cause was the thought of her life without Marcus. No! She shot out of bed like a catapult. She resented the amount of time she was spending thinking about Marcus and everything associated with him. Granted, she allowed this all to happen, in so many ways and on countless levels. Unconsciously she permitted it. From the moment she met him she’d allowed him to do things, say things and so much more than she’d ever done before. The truth was that she’d also been busily doing and acting totally outside her realm of normal as well. Blaming him was wrong, and she could not say she’d been unaware or completely naïve. Bullshit! Angrily, she walked over to the small mirror that hung over the small chest of drawers in the room. In its reflection, she could see from her shoulders up. Her hair was rumpled but otherwise nothing about her looked very different than yesterday, or even a week ago before she even knew Marcus Waters. Surely, a real change would have left an indelible mark of some kind…like a line or wrinkle or something. Even a white streak of hair! Logically she knew seeing a new wrinkle or white patch of hair would freak her out if it appeared overnight. One hand would be reaching for some super heavy-duty wrinkle cream and the other rearranging her hair. And then she’d be dialing up a salon to get rid of said streak.
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Be reasonable, Elizabeth. You look just the same and you can’t blame Marcus for your craziness. It’s time to accept he is in your bed and in your life. Her reflection instructed her. The fact she consciously accepted his presence must surely mean something catastrophic was wrong. For several moments, she stared back. It dawned on her that she was waiting for the roof to cave in or the floor to collapse or some other kind of disaster to mark her words. “Nope, Liz, the world is still turning on its axis even though you have finally let a man into your life. Are you forgetting your goals?” Turning, she went to the bathroom. She didn’t have an answer for that question. After she showered and dressed, she knew she needed to lose herself in her work. She grabbed an apple and spent the rest of the day in her studio. The next few days followed a similar pattern, except instead of later in the evening, Marcus appeared around six and quite often showed up with a dinner he’d picked up. The third morning she woke up alone, she found a note on the pillow beside her. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I am envious of your lifestyle. Enough of that, though. I’ll be home around noon so please skip lunch so you can join me. See you later, sweetheart. M,” she read the missive aloud. Part of her wanted to be upset at his nerve, assuming she would upset her day with no more forewarning than just his note. The truth was she was smiling and looking forward to his arrival. An afternoon spent in bed suddenly sounded like a remarkably good idea. She hugged herself, imagining the two of them on her bed, bathed in the rays of afternoon sunlight. Like a woman inspired, she rushed through her shower and spent the morning in the kitchen. By the time she heard the key in the front door, her excitement almost carried her into the living room, even to skipping forward on her tiptoes. Marcus turned from setting his briefcase and keys on the small table Liz had arranged inside the front door. Without his saying a word, just looking around a few times for a good place to leave the case, the small table had materialized beside the front door the second evening he returned after work. He took a few steps towards the studio when a noise made him look over his shoulder towards the kitchen. Shock was the only good word to describe his initial emotion. One second later he was feeling lust, passion, desire…the words couldn’t form fast enough to cover what he was experiencing as he saw the beautiful vision. Liz had just come from the kitchen, and she was dressed in a silky, sexy negligee all in black silk and lace. The silk material clung and revealed just up to the point indecent and then the lace took over making it barely respectable. The nightgown had thin shoulder straps visible beneath the sheer lace of the robe. From there, he gazed at her sexy body covered by fabric, composed of striped silk and wide lace panels. They circled her body like a barber pole. The lower edge of one breast was revealed by the 92
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lace, as was her belly. The lace again revealed her upper thighs while it concealed the apex. If this outfit didn’t come from the specialty lingerie store, then it was their loss. “Wow!” Marcus murmured as he readjusted his direction, walking towards Liz. “You look…amazing.” Liz smiled, gesturing with one hand behind her. “I cut up some fruit and cheese. I was thinking—” The doorman’s chime interrupted her. Marcus moved over and pressed the button. “Yes?” “Your package is here, Mr. Waters. The delivery men are ready to bring it up.” “Thanks, Federico. Let them come on up.” Marcus turned to look at Liz. “I should have been more specific in my note, I guess. I think you look gorgeous, but do you have a more concealing robe you could put on?” Liz nodded, moving towards the bedroom. By the time she returned, Marcus was opening the door to admit two big, brawny men carrying the surprise he had arranged. “Follow me, fellas. The bedroom is over here,” Marcus told the moving men as he started down the hallway. Liz stepped out of the way, moving into her living room. As she sat on the sofa, she pulled her thick terrycloth robe up around her neck, completely concealing her body. Furniture certainly wasn’t something she’d figured on. Maybe it was some kind of exercise equipment Marcus wanted to use in the evenings. Perhaps that’s when he worked out. She’d seen by the look on his face he liked her outfit. In the seconds before Federico’s call, she’d seen the desire on his face, as well as the reaction his body couldn’t hide. Smiling, she stood and walked over to glance out her window. Hopefully he’d been able to conceal that fact before the movers saw. Quickly, she decided she’d only be in the way and skipped down the hall to her studio. Partially closing the door, she set it so it wouldn’t close by accident and sat at her worktable. Not quite as easily as usual, she soon lost herself in her art. A knock on her door interrupted her some time later. Looking up she saw Marcus had pushed open the door and stood watching her. Smiling, she asked him, “Is it a glider, or a treadmill? I could use it during the day while you’re at work.” Marcus frowned. “Uh? I bought you a new bed. They’ve set up the old one in Tommy’s old room. There was just a sofa in there. I can have them take the bed, if you prefer.” The words ran together. Bed? Did he say bed? “I don’t need a new bed,” she pointed out logically. “I mean it is older, but it didn’t have any lumps.” 93
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“It also wasn’t made for a six-foot tall man,” Marcus pointed out. “True, it’s just a full-size and not very big. I didn’t hear you complaining the last few nights.” Marcus grinned. “Yeah, I was busy. And I didn’t care that my feet were sticking out. But last night was cooler—” “Aw, you poor baby,” Liz mocked him lightly. She stood and put away her pencils and erasers. Crossing towards him, she asked, “Is it safe to go out there?” “You go into the bedroom, and I’ll see them out. They are at the other end, in the extra bedroom.” “All right.” Liz nodded, watching him go towards the far end of the apartment. Turning, she stopped just inside her bedroom. A luxurious, dark cherry wood sleigh-style bed had replaced her modest full-sized one. The bed linens were beyond anything she’d ever seen before. The colors were deep burgundy, gold and hunter green. It hinted at holiday, but wasn’t overwhelming. The sheets had been folded back and were golden in color and edged with woven thick lace. Liz started to get on the bed when she realized she still wore the terrycloth robe. Quickly, she dropped the robe, letting it fall to the carpet at her feet. She climbed up onto the bed and stretched across it. She immediately felt dwarfed by its size. It had to be one of those California king beds she’d heard about. She’d seen king-size beds in stores, but never up this close. Starting to twist on the bed, her negligee robe got tangled around her. Quickly, she got on her knees and worked off the lace and silk robe, casually tossing it over the curved foot of the bed. She rearranged herself on the bed, hoping to recapture the sexy mood she had wanted to have when he came home. As she lay there, propping her head on her bent arm and hand, she glanced around the room. She realized her furniture was gone as well. In its place were gorgeous dark wood pieces, which perfectly matched the subtle, graceful carving on the headboard. There were two nightstands, for which she offered up a silent prayer. As her gaze slid towards the beautiful rounded corner mirror and dresser, she couldn’t help but compare it to the small one she’d looked into this morning. With this, she easily would be able to see from her waist upwards. Before she let herself enjoy anything else, she reminded herself accepting this furniture was a big thing. Now think about this, Elizabeth, this is a very big step! “So, what do you think? I got the furniture as well, because I wasn’t sure how you were about matching stuff. The saleswoman stressed it mattered to most women.” Marcus stood in the open doorway, leaning against the jamb. Liz looked at him and felt her stomach turn over and the butterflies start working, madly beating their wings. Swallowing hard, she nodded. “It is very beautiful.” “Oh, and don’t worry. I moved your stuff, not the moving guys.”
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She lightly rubbed the top of the comforter. “This is like the real thing…real goose down. Mine was just polyester fluff, or some such thing. Does this have a tag on it?” Liz pulled on the comforter, looking for the identifying evidence. Seconds later, Marcus pulled the covers from her hand. Liz squinted up from near the bottom of the bed. She held the tag between her fingers. “This is too expensive!” Marcus smiled. “We have to send it back, Marcus. This is like designer bed-linens and stuff. I’m the outlet store, or the discount store you know, where things like ‘bed in a bag’ or towels by the dozen are more my style.” “What the hell is a ‘bed bag’? Besides, it’s too late to send it back now.” Marcus sat on the bed, tossing the comforter to the side and uncovering the golden sheets. “Bed clothing which all matches in one bag for a low price is what ‘bed in a bag’ really is. For your information, that is also how most of America decorates their bedrooms.” Her hand stroked the silky sheet over and over. A purr was so close from erupting, which she was sure how he would interpret it. Rushing into speech, she said, “Now, why can’t I send it back? You kept the receipts, rights?” “Of course I did. But you tore off the tag…now the international bed linen inspectors will be coming to check us out.” Liz shook her head in disgust, turning to look at the label in her hand. Then she reread the wording on the label and recalled the old joke— “How do they even know you tore it off? I mean the whole thing is ridiculous.” “Oh, yeah? Tell that to all those poor fools condemned to cheap sheets prison. They spend all their days washing and ironing sheets and their nights on hard cots and constantly the pain and embarrassment of getting short-sheeted.” Liz stared for a minute. “Ha-ha! I imagine they have to sleep on one hundred and eighty thread count sheets?” “Of course, my sweet,” he laughed out loud, surprised suddenly. “Even laughing with you, Elizabeth, turns me on. Good God, woman, how do you do it?” His mouth covered hers a moment later. When he pulled away seconds later, both were breathless. Marcus spoke quickly. “And look at this!” he pointed out. Moving across the room to stand at the foot of the bed, he opened the double doors of the armoire, and then stepped back. With a flourishing gesture almost worthy of a circus showman, he pointed inside. “Oh my God! Where did that come from?” The minute the words left her mouth, she realized how stupid she would sound. Instead of replying, Marcus reached inside and pulled out a small device, slightly larger than a credit card and tossed it onto the bed beside her. “Give it a try. You really just have to hit ‘play’.” He leaned over, pointing to the button. 95
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“I’ve never had a television in my bedroom.” Liz pushed the play button. Inside, she was at war over the need to proclaim her independence and not accept expensive gifts. The look on his face and in his eyes spoke to her inner being. It wasn’t in her to hurt him by refusing. She should ask him if he planned to take the stuff with him when he was done with— Her mind stumbled over the words. Quickly, she blinked her eyes to clear away the tears. Instead of pushing the button again, she placed the remote behind her, under one of the pillows. Just a few seconds passed before Marcus turned to look at her. “What’s wrong, honey? Here, let me show you how it works.” Marcus moved around the bed before he saw she no longer held the small device. “Where is it?” Liz shrugged and her shoulder strap slid down most of her upper arm. She hoped the move seemed artless and didn’t look like she’d practiced it for nearly thirty minutes before he came home. As it fell forward, it draped low across her breast. With a slight shift of her body, she knew she could also bare her nipple. Strategically, she chose to wait a moment. “I was hoping you were coming home at noon for more than lunch.” Marcus looked up from the comforter to focus on Liz’s face. On the short journey, he saw the way her breast was almost completely exposed. For the first time, he realized Liz was sexily sprawled across the bed, and she had dressed this way before she even knew he was bringing home a new bed. She had looked so sexy when he first saw her everything else had paled for a moment. Now, as he looked again, he acknowledged what a huge thing it was for her to have done this. Every time so far they had made love, he had been the one to initiate their joining. The fact Liz had greeted him in the middle of the day in a wildly sexy nightgown spoke volumes in his mind. He was half afraid of taking the wrong action. His shirt was half opened and his tie was undone, hanging done around his neck. As if in slow motion, he watched Liz reach up and catch his tie ends in her hand. He only had a moment to think before she pulled hard enough to leave him in no doubt as to what his next move should be. Twisting, he sat so he faced her. “I should have been clearer in my note this morning, huh?” Liz tugged on his tie again. “At least I wasn’t naked wearing a ribbon.” Marcus watched a flush stain her cheeks and wondered if she regretted her honesty. He grinned. “I’ll look forward to that day. Now, do you like the bed? I got the extra pieces since the room was big. And if you really don’t like the television in here, we can work out something else.” Liz jerked hard on his tie. Marcus stopped talking abruptly, meeting her gaze. He started to speak when her finger pressed against his lips.
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“I’d rather test the mattress than look at the furniture. I’ve spent all morning thinking about you coming home at noon—” her voice faded away. Marcus couldn’t reply at first. A hard knot formed in his throat the instant he heard her say “home”. It had only taken these few days to start thinking of her place as his home, but to hear her say it affected him more deeply than he would have thought possible. He cleared his throat, but it was too tight. Instead, he reached out with his hand, gently catching her dangling shoulder strap. Easily, he pulled it lower until her nipple was revealed. Before he could touch her, she shifted. Liz moved around so she was lying on her back, propped against the pillows. Holding Marcus’ gaze, she eased down the other strap, wiggling slightly. “You look so beautiful, Liz. I’m half afraid to touch you for fear of tearing this gown.” Liz smiled. “That’s easily taken care of,” she told him, shifting again on the bed. She pulled the gown as she moved, coming onto her knees in the middle of the mattress. A second later, the slinky black material was tossed towards the foot of the bed. “Ah,” Marcus whispered. “I wondered what you had on under there.” He was pulling off his tie with one hand and dragging the final few buttons open with the other. “There is one more thing.” Marcus paused in dragging down his pants zipper “What is that?” “I should make you send this back.” Liz finally forced out the words. Marcus watched her sitting on the bed. Her hands pushed down, testing the pillowtop softness of the mattress. Shucking his pants and underwear aside, he moved onto the bed beside her. “I got the top-of-the-line mattress. It’s called the ‘super air pillow topper’. There are nine inches of foam on the mattress and the pillow section is three more,” he told her, surprised at his ability to stay this calm with Liz looking so seductive against the dark covers. Liz reclined fully. “A good mattress is important to a restful night’s sleep.” Her hands moved from caressing the top of the bed to rubbing small circles on her abdomen. Marcus nodded, his gaze glued to her hands, as if they had hypnotic powers. “Doctors say you need a full night’s sleep to stay healthy,” he murmured softly as he stretched out on the bed beside her. The temptation to touch her was great, but almost as powerful was the seductive force behind observing her hands caressing her body. “I must agree with their learned opinion,” she told him. Her hands went in opposite directions. Marcus swallowed hard. Her right hand came to rest on her mound, while the left lightly held her left breast. As he continued to watch, she began lightly circling her nipple with her fingertips. His gaze was drawn lower, irresistibly, to see her fingers moving between her pussy lips.
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He groaned loudly when she withdrew her fingers a second later, showing him the wetness. “You are driving me crazy, woman!” Marcus muttered as he covered her mouth with his. Very quickly, his hands replaced hers. He began kissing his way down her body, lingering over her nipples before continuing towards his eventual goal. Very soon, neither gave a damn about sleeping or mattress particulars—
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Chapter Ten Later, Liz realized it was on the day the bed arrived when things really began to change. After that, Marcus started integrating himself into her life, some things were small and subtle, others much larger and impossible to pretend nothing had happened. The Saturday of their second week together, Marcus told her he usually played a friendly game of football in the park with friends and some employees. The tone in his voice as he told her was strange. She couldn’t say for sure, but it sounded like he expected her to say no, assuming she wasn’t interested. He didn’t go out of his way to hype the event to entice her, either. In fact, her brain was sending the signal to refuse attending even as her lips formed the letter “n”. Abruptly, she heard herself tell him, “Yes. That sounds like fun.” The shocked look on his face would be worth whatever the day might bring, bruises, or even worse. Taking Marcus Waters by surprise, or achieving the upper hand, she had quickly learned, were rare events indeed. The day turned into one of fun and almost constant laughter. Not too long after their arrival, Tommy showed up, and Liz saw the surprise on Marcus’ face when he first saw him. He didn’t say anything, though, which surprised her. Something told her Marcus had not mentioned the football game to Tommy. Smiling, she guessed someone else had. Liz wondered who the brave, albeit deluded, soul was. Shaking her head in surrender, she turned her attention to the game. From almost the moment of their arrival, she had more fun than she had thought possible. Unlike many of the girlfriends and wives in attendance, she came dressed in jeans and actually played football. Everyone tried to conceal their surprise when Marcus announced today the game would be changed from tackle to tag. Grateful for her younger days of playing with neighborhood boys, she threw herself wholeheartedly into the game. Her passing game was fairly accurate and better than she—and she imagined, nearly all of the male players—had anticipated. Quickly, she demonstrated she could run fast. Liz was grateful when the halftime break came along. Her side was ahead by one touchdown, thanks to her. The players returned to where their families waited, gathered in a small area and all sat on blankets or chairs they had brought with them. Liz looked at Marcus accusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me to pack some food and drinks? I could have made us some sandwiches and tossed in some cans of soda. We might not have had a fancy basket, but at least we’d have a paper sack with some sandwiches and fruit. We don’t even have water.” She was taken aback at the sheepish 99
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look on his face a moment later. Quickly, she reminded herself she could just have easily realized herself they would need food and, at the very least, water. She opened her mouth to apologize. “I didn’t think of it,” Marcus interrupted her. His hands came up in supplication. “Honest, Elizabeth, I never bring anything. There are always vendors scattered around—” Liz interrupted him. “And some woman usually takes pity on the poor, hungry, handsome man suffering from thirst and hunger.” She stuck out her lower lip, pouting for a few seconds. Then she grinned. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Marcus laughed, shaking his head. The look on his face spoke of his guilt, on many occasions, no doubt. “Marcus? Come and join us! I’ve got plenty extra.” Liz turned and felt a jealous pang take away her breath. The woman who waved was beyond beautiful. Her raven hair was curled, to her shoulders, her makeup looked professional and she was dressed like a designer-casual weekend advertisement. It got worse when Marcus greeted the woman warmly. “Hello, Margo! We’d love to!” Marcus turned to Liz immediately. “We would, wouldn’t we?” The smile he gave her was one she’d become more familiar with when he wanted to get his way. Liz nodded. “Sure, so long as she doesn’t want to only feed you.” “Trust me, she won’t,” he added, taking her elbow in his hand. When conversation revealed Margo was married to Carl, Marcus’ friend, Liz felt quite relieved. Carl was the captain of her team, and he had proved he was fun, a good leader and possessed a clever sense of humor. Once they were all seated on the double blankets Carl and Margo Winters had spread out earlier, Liz reached over and touched the other woman’s forearm. As Margo turned in her direction, Liz spoke. “I am sorry to impose. Marcus didn’t mention anything about halftime being a picnic.” Winking, Margo leaned forward to speak softly. “Typical man. Marcus isn’t your usual freeloader, though. He always tries to give me money to pay for his share or writes a check to Carl on Monday.” She paused and looked at Marcus. “I give most of his money to a charity, and I always bring extra. If I’d known there would be another woman willing to play with these insane jokers, I would have worn my jeans and sneakers.” Carl spoke with food in his mouth, “Hey! I like…seeing you over here on the sidelines, looking so beautiful and…and amazing.” Margo set down her plate. She lifted one hand, tapping her perfectly manicured index finger to her temple. “Hmm. Husband prefers bandbox pretty and perfect wife sitting quietly, just waiting until she could serve him his hard-earned lunch. Wife wants to dress comfortably and get out on the field, shouting, yelling and having fun like the
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others, husband included. Clearly, we have two opposing options. You’re new here and impartial, Liz. Which do you think will be chosen and ultimately supported by both?” Liz could barely hold in her laughter due to Margo’s voice and facial expressions being so comical. Realizing Margo, Carl and Marcus were watching her, she swallowed hard. “Next time, Margo and I get to play on the same team.” Marcus laughed out loud. Carl groaned. Margo turned and exchanged a high five with Liz. “I knew we were going to be friends.” Late that Saturday night, following dinner with Margo and Carl plus several other people from the game, Liz was in bed, waiting on Marcus. Upon their arrival at her apartment, he had a message to call his father about something concerning one of the international concerns. She had gone ahead and showered, washing the last stray pieces of grass and dirt away. Holding a tube of hand cream, she squirted some in one hand. Starting to massage it in, she twisted to rub it on her elbow. “Oh damn!” she murmured as she rubbed over a bruise she couldn’t see. “Hey babe, what’s wrong?” Marcus had tugged his t-shirt off as he entered the bedroom. “You showered already?” Liz nodded her wet head. She had her hair combed straight back. “I was pretty sure I scored high on the stink-o-meter. I also knew I wasn’t going to be upright for much longer and I didn’t want to lie on the bed dirty.” Marcus stopped in mid-step. “Guess that means I will go get in the shower now.” Liz smiled, realizing what was unspoken. “I love this new bed too much to ruin it.” He held up one hand in her direction. “I get the message, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” It probably took longer, but Liz hadn’t glanced at the clock to check the time. When Marcus walked back into the bedroom, he was drying his hair and had a towel wrapped around his waist. Liz took her time letting her gaze move up his body. His muscular calves and thighs looked good enough to her to belong to a male model. She stopped abruptly when she saw a bruise on his left shin. Smiling, she was glad not to be alone. “Does it hurt?” Marcus paused, glancing down to where she was looking. “No, and I’m used to getting a couple now and then. What about you?” “I found one, but I’m not going looking for others. I’m starting to feel them.” Marcus sat on the bed, twisting to rest his nearest thigh on the comforter. “The first time you play is always the hardest.”
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“I don’t work out and I should. I guess I passed the age when I most definitely should have started.” Laughing, he tossed the smaller towel he’d used on his hair towards a chair nearby. “We can start working out together.” Liz nodded, not sure how or where they could do it. But one thing stood out—the warm feeling she got thinking about them doing a workout, which could mean anything, together. She liked the idea of them spending more time with each other and this was such a good way. Her goal to be with him would be accomplished and she had not had to finagle a way to do it. Marcus stood. “Did you bring a towel in for the pillow? I don’t want you getting sick sleeping with wet hair.” Liz shook her head. She could argue that she did it all the time, but she liked his concern. He spread the fluffy towel across her pillow and she eased down, lying on her back. She watched him walk around the bed, realizing that he had not commented on the fact that she was wearing one of his white t-shirts to bed tonight. She’d actually first noticed the shirt when she did the wash one morning and was amazed at how soft it felt. From that point on, she’d put on the shirt for short periods of time and just loved how it felt against her skin. As she felt the bed shift, she turned off the light on the nightstand. She waited quietly, wondering how long until Marcus reached out for her. To date, not one night had passed that he had not made love to her. In her mind, she had rehearsed a denial, alluding to sore muscles for her excuse. The bed shifted and she opened her mouth. Marcus pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Good night, sweetheart. If I wake up before noon, it will be a miracle. Sweet dreams.” Liz lay perfectly still, her mouth slightly open in surprise. Even though her intention had been to deny his request for sex, now that he had not asked, she had questions racing through her head as to why. What was wrong? Should she ask him? If she did, what would that mean? Or more important, what would it reveal? Marcus’ hand lightly touched her stomach, moving across to encircle it while he moved close to her. His mouth touched her cheek and then came the puff of air as he spoke. “I lied to you, honey, and I’m sorry.” Her heart caught at his words. Fear bubbled up inside her. “I—” “I have too many aches tonight. My spirit is willing,” he paused and cupped her breast, squeezing it lightly. “But after the shower I suddenly felt like I was sixty.” Liz giggled and reached up to curl her hand to the side of his face. “I’m glad. I thought I was the only one.” She lifted up a little, groaning as she kissed his mouth. “Maybe by morning we’ll be back to normal.” Marcus grinned, lying beside her and cuddling her close. “Surely by afternoon?”
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Liz smiled and fell asleep in his arms. Several weeks passed after that day, and the football game became a regular event in their shared life. Liz relished the time she spent with these people who had all started out as strangers, except for Tommy and Marcus. She made friends easily with the women, and the men were all polite and respectful. Marcus made it clear from the very beginning she was with him. Recalling the first day always made her smile, no matter what was going on. Since the first Saturday, Margo had played each game. Carl didn’t complain. The Monday before the third Saturday they were scheduled to play, Margo called Liz on the phone. “Hi, Liz, it’s me. Margo. Am I interrupting?” “No, not at all. I’m having an off day so I’m doing housework. What’s up?” Liz had asked, curious to hear from the other woman. “I think it’s time we traded jobs. Tonight I am telling Carl he can fix the picnic this weekend. I’m always doing it alone. What about Marcus?” Liz took a deep breath. “Well, I’ve made it both times so far. I told him I would.” “Tell him Carl is doing it, so he will have to, as well,” Margo added quickly. “What if they refuse and we end up with no food?” Liz pointed out. She rather liked eating something and drinking extra liquids. “Not a problem. I’ve worked out a deal with Mary Ellen. Do you remember meeting them last weekend? She’s going to make extra for you and me. Then the following time, I’m doing the same for her. We’re flexing a few women’s lib muscles. So, what do you think?” Liz paused. She didn’t have the same kind of relationship as Margo and Carl had. They were in love. People in love did things like this. She had little doubt if she asked for help, Marcus would order them a picnic basket to be prepared and even delivered to the field. Oh, well, she could try. “Okay. I’m in. See you Saturday.” Marcus was changing her life in more than just the obvious physical ways. The thought rocked her equilibrium. Looking across her studio, into the large mirror she used at times, her face looked the same, as did the rest of her. But she was changing also. The big question was when Marcus finally left, as he undoubtedly would, what would she do next? Liz refused to think she would be one of those women who pined and mourned as if the person had died rather than just ended their relationship. She was a survivor. She’d already proven that. Still, the sad look in her eyes betrayed the truth that she was not the same person. Now she was a woman who loved a man…who didn’t love her. She froze, unable to move.
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It was a mistake. Her brain was tired and making up things. No way had she just thought she was in love with Marcus. NO. Angrily she spun away from her reflection. Was the other part true? Well, yes, she had little doubt Marcus did not love her. He was kind, gentle, caring and so many other wonderful things. At times, she was almost convinced his caresses went beyond mere lust. God! Could she be wrong? About both things? Perhaps on the one hand this was a better scenario. Surely, it would hurt even more knowing he had once loved her? After he dumped her— Picking up a pencil, she started drawing on blank paper. She drew feverishly, working harder to distract her mind than to produce a decent drawing. Soon she recalled after the first phone call, Margo began phoning her regularly. Margo always asked if she intruded, but even if Liz was immersed in a drawing, she took Margo’s calls. Soon they were going out to lunch once a week. Sometimes it was a long, chatty lunch and other days they ate on the run while shopping. Liz truly enjoyed the days spent with her new friend. Since leaving home after high school, her life had been limited to her education, and then her art. There had been her great-aunt, but no girl- or boyfriends. Romance hadn’t had any part in her life. She did join her aunt’s friends’ card parties and other outings quite often, but never was anyone in her age bracket. Once Aunt Cecily passed away, isolation had become natural. Her work promoted it, and her personality embraced it. That evening, they’d finished dinner and afterwards, she was in the kitchen, putting the dishes into the washer. Tumbling around in her head was the need to discuss the picnic basket change with Marcus. Her head was a Mulligan stew of thoughts and worries. Foremost, demanding attention was the fact she had little doubt she was in love with him. Marcus walked in carrying the rest of the dirty dishes, setting them on the counter. “That’s the last of them.” Crossing his arms, he leaned against the counter between the sink and the washer. There wasn’t a lot of space and she had to lean past him to put anything into the washer. “You don’t have to, after all, you worked all day,” Liz told him, feeling hotter and more flustered with him standing so close. “And you didn’t do anything at all? The whole day?” Marcus quipped back. She half smiled at his logic. “I did house stuff today. I wasn’t in the mood to work…draw. I tried, but nothing really happened.” “Well, then, tell me what I can do.”
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“All right. I’ll hand you the dishes and you can place them in the washer.” Liz rinsed a plate and passed it to him. Marcus took the plate and placed it flat, on the top shelf. Liz looked from the plate to Marcus. He looked too pleased with himself so she hesitated to say anything. Still, she didn’t want to do this twice. “Um, I usually put the plates on the bottom rack. You can stand them upright.” She took the plate, demonstrating the placement. “They fit really well right here.” Silence followed her action. Liz returned to the sink, starting to rinse once more. “How about I rinse and you put in the dishes? You know your machine—” Liz grinned. “Okay.” The switch worked well. After Liz put in the last dish, she added the soap before closing it and starting the wash cycle. “Are we done?” Marcus asked a second later. Liz didn’t look up as she moved her wet sponge over the counter between the sink and the washer. “Pretty much. There was one more thing…could you prepare the picnic basket this weekend? Um, you know…get the food, make sandwiches, and add fruit and put in enough water bottles.” She was nervously aware of the silence that followed her request. “Sure, I can do that. Anything else?” Marcus asked, rinsing the sink. “No, I think it should be enough.” She turned to face him to put the sponge by the sink. SSSssssphritz! Splat! “Eek!” Liz shrieked loudly as she was drenched with water. Marcus held the hand sprayer, which was still spraying liberally. While it seemed like a deluge, there was really just enough to saturate the pink tshirt she was wearing. “Ooh!” Liz screamed, stunned at the unexpected shower. She lifted her gaze to Marcus’ face. Marcus stood, holding the now silent sprayer. He grinned. “I thought you looked a little overheated.” Liz moved fast. Grabbing the sprayer, she managed about two seconds of showering him before he got it away from her. She looked at him, seeing water dripping from his face and down— In that portentous moment, she acknowledged, too late, it was one thing for him to spray her cheap t-shirt, and another for her to drench his expensive business shirt and trousers from his suit. “I’m sorry, Marcus. Your nice suit—” she broke off, gesturing with her hands. Marcus took the sprayer from her limp hand and set it aside, turning off the water. He grinned at her over his shoulder. “I’ve wondered a few times what you might have looked like in college, winning a wet t-shirt contest.”
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Liz gasped. Of all things she might have thought he’d say, this was not one of them. “I would never have entered one in the first place.” She crossed her arms, lifting her chin and tried to look haughty. She would take the high road. “Oh yeah? You didn’t hit the college bar scene, wasting countless hours drinking and so on.” He prodded her, grinning. Liz shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about that time. “I was a study-hardy kid. Classes and studying were my only college activities. If I’d been in computers or math I would have been considered a geek.” Marcus reached out and pulled her close, rubbing his wet chest against hers. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I know you now, huh?” “Yeah, I guess so. I was pretty quiet and avoided most of the troubles in college.” She felt his lips nibbling at the side of her neck, just below her right ear. If she’d known him in college, there was no doubt the story of her college days would have read quite different. “I would have led you astray, I’m afraid,” he added softly. She shook her head. “You never would have looked at me back then.” Marcus lifted his head to meet her gaze. “Why do you say that? You are gorgeous, Liz. I can’t believe the college boys let you alone to do your studying in peace and quiet.” “I looked a little bit different.” She paused, remembering the black-rimmed glasses, pigtails in her hair, and clothes a few sizes too big. “Before you is a woman who is the result of countless hours of plastic surgery and the work of dedicated surgeons.” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen scars except the old appendix scar.” Liz felt her breath catch in her chest for a moment. He called it an appendix scar and she saw no reason to disabuse him of that notion. Nodding, she strove to keep her tone light and make the conversation carefree. “Magic pixie dust?” Marcus laughed out loud. “All right. Pixie dust. Should we get out of these wet clothes? The show you wanted to see on television starts in thirty minutes.” Liz nodded. “Yeah, I almost forgot it was on tonight. I guess we’ll have to put off the wet t-shirt dance contest, right?” Lifting her arms up over her head, she did a few shakes of her upper body, followed by a sinuous hip-thrusting movement. Marcus groaned loudly. “You drive me crazy, woman!” The decision to set the digital recorder to save the show was an easy one to make.
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Chapter Eleven Liz’s hand slipped from beneath her chin, knocking over her pencil cup. More than fifty pencils rolled across her table, onto the floor. The clatter certainly jerked her out of her reverie. Today she was having a hard time focusing, for some strange reason. Of course, she wasn’t nervous, she assured herself mentally for perhaps the hundredth time. And if she was a little on edge, it had nothing at all to do with the fact tonight they would attend charity bash at the same art museum where they had met nearly four months earlier. Four months! Where had the time gone? Tommy seemed completely settled in, as evidenced by the decreased frequency in phone calls and visits to see her. She knew he spent a lot of his free time with Annette Singer, Marcus’ cousin he’d met that fateful first weekend at the shore. His waning interest and concern about her made her feel good, albeit a little sad. Every time she saw him she remembered her parents and her life at home, years earlier. A wave of nostalgia would leave her blue for a few seconds and then it would fade. In fact, the only times she saw Tommy was when she attended a business dinner with Marcus. Regularly she attended business dinners with Marcus, when wives, dates, or life-partners were expected to attend. The first dinner was more chatter than business as soon as Margo saw Liz had arrived with Marcus. Looking back, the first dinner was a turning point, and Marcus started to discuss returning to his parents’ place at the ocean again. He never argued when she insisted she needed to keep working. Since her exhibit, she received several orders for special works and wanted to keep busy on them. The truth was she didn’t feel comfortable going to the ocean where she knew his parents would be watching them, probably quite closely. At first, she told herself the discomfort she experienced was because of the way he behaved towards her in front of others. By telling herself this fairy tale, she soothed her bruised sense of morality. Numerous times, she reasoned, it was foolish to feel guilt or consider her actions wrong. On rational days, she knew undoubtedly her screwed-up thoughts and feelings came from her Catholic upbringing. If she were honest with herself, she also didn’t know how she would tell her parents she was living with a man and she wasn’t even engaged. The real problem, if she were completely truthful, was in lying to herself. She wanted to embrace the emotions and feelings she experienced for Marcus. When he
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came into a room, she wanted to feel free to run to him and show him the difference he had made in her life. Since she’d met him, she’d become aware she was subtly changing, deep inside. Places that had been frozen for so many years were slowly, gradually coming back to life. The desire to be alone and separated from others was fading. Enjoyment in being with people had returned. She now sought out people like Margo to share her time. Part of her wanted to share these changes. Yet she held back because to do so would reveal the depth of feelings for him. She wasn’t ready to risk this for fear of his rejection. Things had changed to the point where she doubted her ability to just walk away. There was a good chance she might make a fool of herself if he were to leave her tomorrow. Yes, the simple truth was she had changed, not Marcus. She was the one lying, not him. Whatever he said or did could be taken for what it was. Her words and actions were hiding her real thoughts and feelings. When she was around his parents, it became even harder. His parents were always very nice, but Liz felt like she was living a lie with Marcus. No doubt, she would feel the same around her parents. Perhaps it was silly to worry and stew over such things. The problem had become more blaringly obvious after she watched a special on Marion Davies on late-night television. The woman had lived as Hearst’s mistress for thirty years, and yet officially she had no real place in the wealthy newspaper magnate’s life. After the show, Liz wondered how Davies endured people who rebuffed her. It didn’t matter there was no real comparison between herself and the woman who had lived so long ago. Times were changed, as were social mores. Logically she knew she was the only one who looked at her relationship with censure. She knew her thinking was old-fashioned, but she couldn’t help but feel people looked at her like she was Marcus’ kept woman. Even though he hadn’t given her any money, and she was still paying her rent, utilities, and buying about half the groceries, she still felt uneasy. At first, she had questioned whether she felt used, but with time she knew it wasn’t true. Other than the first time when she invited his callous treatment, he always was respectful and caring. In private, she savored each word, look or caress. There was no one around to observe them. If he touched her, she knew without a doubt it was because he wanted to do so. Perhaps it was only physical need, which was how she continued to insist on calling what she felt for him. She pushed out of her head any thoughts she loved him. There was only a physical, a sexual hunger that demanded answering, she persistently told herself. She felt her neck and cheeks heat up as she remembered the long weekend approximately four weeks ago when Marcus had to go away on a business trip. For the first time in her adult life, she was truly lonely. Her days were long and nonproductive. The nights were the worst. Marcus was only gone for three nights, but Liz was stunned at the pull of the sexual needs she experienced.
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In fact, she was embarrassed at her lack of control. The first night was difficult, but she spent most of it crying and hugging Marcus’ pillow. The second day, she was tired and irritable and easily diverted herself with cleaning. By three in the morning, she showered and fell into bed. She closed her eyes, positive that sleep was but a breath or a deep sigh away. Then her eyes popped open. The need came over her like a tsunami and almost out of nowhere. All day and night, her thoughts had constantly been drifting off to all things Marcus. Now she was aroused and more than a little disgusted with her lack of self-control. How in the world, or better yet why, was she able to go for years without sex and now it appeared that she’d become addicted? While it wasn’t easy, she fought back the need to satisfy herself. By the time Saturday night came, Liz was a wreck. She missed Marcus so much she felt like there had to be something wrong with her. The independent woman seemed to have disappeared. She went to bed early, determined to sleep through until Marcus got home midday Sunday. Granted it was a tall order, but she was desperate. After an hour in bed, she decided self-satisfaction, to which she was no stranger, was a healthy alternate after all. Logically, her sleep-deprived brain decided, that anything could easily replace him…not another man, but perhaps a latex look-alike, which caused her cheeks to flame and her body burn just thinking about it. And in this case, even using her hand could probably do just as good a job. An hour later, she knew that was not true. Finally she drifted to sleep. Marcus climbed into bed with her shortly after midnight. His kisses and caresses awakened her easily. Other than food and bathroom breaks, they didn’t leave the bedroom until late Monday morning when Marcus had to run in to work for a couple of hours. Of course, she had rationalized it all countless times. Yet she knew he didn’t love her, and perhaps he didn’t even really like her. After all, they didn’t have a lot in common. He came from wealth and she was middle class, and an artist. Granted, she wasn’t Bohemian, very little about their lives meshed. Sure, he obviously enjoyed making love—no, having sex with her—but that didn’t mean he loved her. On good days, she held fast to her conviction he would get tired of her before too much longer, and then he would leave her. Her heart ached every time she thought this. Eventually, as the weeks passed, she would have to face the truth. No more denials or pretending. Tears rushed to her eyes. With the backs of her hands, she rubbed them off her cheeks carelessly. There was no makeup to smear. At least this part of her life had not changed. She still rarely bothered with eye makeup, lipstick or even blush, especially if they were staying in all evening. Suddenly, she smiled as the memory of the day she had surprised Marcus at work came back. The idea to visit the men’s offices had been Margo’s. They were meeting for
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lunch, and Margo needed to drop in on her husband at work to get the automated teller card for their bank. She stood outside while Margo went in to see her husband. His assistant, the sign on her desk announced her name was June, smiled at her politely. “Would you care for something to drink while you wait, miss?” “No, thank you. We’re going to lunch soon.” Hoping to look less out of place, Liz walked over to one of the two chairs placed against the wall and sat down. Crossing her legs, she held her small purse on her lap. There was no missing the way the curious assistant looked her over. Today she didn’t mind because she thought she looked good. Occasionally, she would dress up and play “Lady of Leisure who Lunches”. Even though silly, the game of pretend was something she and her cousin had played growing up. On a lark, she had mentioned it to Margo, and it had become a plan of theirs to dress up once a month for their lunch date. This morning she had gone all-out. Dressed in a cream bolero-style suit, she deliberately wore only a sexy camisole underneath. The skirt ended a few inches above her knees and had a kick pleat in the back. Her hair was pulled up into a perfect chignon. On her face, the makeup was heavier than usual, especially her mouth with a glossy, deep mauve color. She wore an expensive monogrammed silk scarf over her hair and wrapped around her neck in the classic Grace Kelly look. To complete the look were her Kellyesque sunglasses. Idly, she began drawing circles with the toe of her high-heeled shoe. Everything she wore was a knockoff, but easily passed for the real thing. In all, it was adult dress-up and simple fun. Margo and Carl Winters came through his office door a few seconds later. She barely had time to stand before he stopped in front of her and lightly kissed her cheek. “Hello, Liz. Margo was just telling me you’ve never been here before.” Carl smiled. “Um, no, actually, it just never seemed to work out…time-wise,” she replied, knowing it sounded lame. “Then there is no time like the present.” Carl looked from his wife to Liz. “Allow me to escort you on a brief tour of the executive offices.” Liz couldn’t think of a good way to refuse, so she walked along only half listening to the different places he indicated and offered names and explanations. She was totally surprised when they rounded one corner and there was Marcus. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the top button at his neck undone and his tie pulled slightly askew. As she looked at him, she saw his hair looked rumpled, undoubtedly caused by numerous runthroughs from his fingers, and flopped a bit onto his forehead. Never had he looked sexier, more appealing, or more heart-wrenchingly endearing. “Hello! I had to finish a conference call or I would have joined you sooner.” Marcus smiled at Carl and Margo. Liz worked hard to keep her smile perfect, not too wide or too insipid. She was afraid her joy at seeing him would be obvious to anyone looking at her. The control she 110
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had worked so hard to maintain slipped when Marcus pulled her close and kissed her parted lips, catching her “oh” of surprise. The last thing she expected was for him to show such a blatant sign of affection. Sure, Carl had pecked her cheek outside his office, but here they were in a central hallway, which served as a hub location in the office. Marcus held her close to his side. “Do I owe my thanks to you, Margo, for finally dragging Liz into the building?” Margo laughed and shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess you do, Marcus. I had no idea until we were outside.” “Hmm. Was she suitably impressed, you think?” he questioned. Turning after he spoke, he snagged her gaze with his. “Somehow I doubt we did. Are you going to lunch?” “Yes, and shopping,” Carl answered for his wife. “She has to get a new dress, or so she tells me, for the big museum party. For some strange reason, she says she can’t wear the same dress as last time. Ow!” he cringed in response to the quick elbow jab Margo awarded him for his last comment. “Hey!” he protested quickly. “I think you are getting stronger, Margo, since you started playing football.” Liz looked up as she heard the phone ringing, abruptly calling her back to the present. That had been the first time she learned another big party like the one where Marcus and she first met was planned. Closing her eyes, she drifted back, remembering last Tuesday. Normally, she got up when Marcus did, often preparing breakfast for them both. This had been the gradual change in her schedule over the weeks to find more time together. That morning she was too tired to get up. During the night, Marcus had made love to her twice. Where he got the energy, she didn’t know. He’d told her in the beginning once was common, for a man his age. A few times, she had wondered if he was taking the “V” pill, but she never had the nerve to ask, and she hadn’t seen any lying around. They settled into a routine, as she assumed most people did, of several nights a week, and both weekend evenings, they had sex. Liz knew it would slow down as time passed because that’s what all the magazines and television shows said was the norm. That morning, naked under the covers, she was warm and cozy and aroused. She was in the mood to grab him and pull him back down onto the bed with her. How she had gone from celibacy to wanton slut was a mystery. She credited it all to Marcus. With him she was constantly in the frame of mind to touch, kiss and make love with him. What surprised her more than anything was the way her needs had grown and continued to do so. She had half expected to find her desire would diminish after the initial few weeks. Instead, her needs continued to grow. When Marcus reached for her, she eagerly accepted his lovemaking. But inside her had been the evolving need to tell him she wanted it, him, and now, she wanted more! 111
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Strange was the only way to describe her feelings at times. Her experience with relationships was nonexistent. After her fiasco of a first time, she steered clear of relationships. Once or twice in college, she had considered giving in to one of the more persistent fellow art students interested in dating her. As time went by, she focused on her classes and her art, or spent quiet hours with her aunt. Now she had nothing to fall back on, or recall from her past, for reference. Sometimes she wanted to just shout out what she wanted to do to him…or what she needed him to do to her. But it was hard to get the words out of her mouth. Watching him walk naked across the room, she felt warm and gooey on the inside…itchy. Only Marcus knew how to scratch her just right. She smiled and acted on her impulse. “Call in sick and come back to bed!” she called out to him. The surprise on his face was unmistakable. He stopped in front of the dresser where he searched for underwear and socks. “What?” Deliberately she moved in bed so the covers fell to her waist as she rolled on her side, facing him. Marcus’ gaze went from her face to her breasts. Liz lifted her uppermost arm, idly pushing her fingers through her hair, to move it off her forehead. She knew precisely how the move lifted her breast. While her actions couldn’t be misconstrued, she was surprised that she was trying to seduce him. Quickly, she knew that while her spirit was willing, her knowledge was sorely lacking. Taking a deep breath and giving it her all, she told him, “Play hooky. This way you could stay home and we could find some fun things to do here.” Slowly, she lowered her hand to the bed and patted the sheets. As she continued speaking, she rubbed the sheet, making small circles with her hand. “Maybe in the shower?” She rolled onto her back. “Of course, I think it would be fun to try the kitchen, while I make pancakes. Or perhaps on the table?” Deliberately, she stretched her arms above her head, crossing her wrists. “I’d like it if you tied me up, like the couple in the movie.” Marcus couldn’t hide his reaction to her words. Dropping his underwear, he crossed the room. The sheets on the bed flew off towards the bottom as he came down on top of her. He didn’t give her time to catch her breath. Hot and furious were the only words to describe what happened next. And animalistic worked also. Marcus thrust into her wet heat without preamble or preparation. Quick and fierce, her orgasm washed over her, drowning her in sensations. He climaxed just as hers ended. She was intensely aware of his cock filling her, and then he was sliding away. Lying beside him, she felt sated and desirable. Between her pussy lips she could feel their juices start to leak out. It was the first time in weeks since they’d had unprotected sex. For a moment she was reminded that she’d not been completely honest with Marcus yet. Consciously she’d let him assume that she was protected from pregnancy without 112
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him using a condom those previous times. He still did, most of the time. She paused as she realized that if she believed they were involved in a real, committed relationship, then she would have told him the truth— There was no need for her to use any kind of protection to keep from getting pregnant. Since she was seventeen, the chance of becoming pregnant had become impossible, according to her doctor at the time. She believed there was no chance of a future between Marcus and herself. Therefore, she felt there wasn’t any need to relive the painful truth. Movement of the bed drew her attention. Her smile faded as she realized Marcus had left the bed once more. In disbelief, she watched him finish dressing, and this time he never looked in her direction. Finally, completely dressed and looking like the perfect Wall Street businessman, he crossed to lean over and press a kiss to her forehead. “That was amazing, darling. I’ll be lucky to get any work done at all today. Remember, the gala is this coming Saturday. You are going to need something pretty spectacular for this crowd.” He paused and she felt him pressing a cool card into her hand. “Take my platinum card and get whatever you need so you look your beautiful and sophisticated self. There’s no limit. Now, sweetheart, it’s getting late and I’ll see you tonight.” He was gone before she had a chance to gather her thoughts and get angry with him. As the morning wore on, she got angrier until she decided to teach him a lesson about such things. That afternoon as she had headed out shopping, she was a woman with a mission. “Hey, babe! It’s me!” Marcus’ voice spoke loudly on the answering machine. Immediately, she was shocked back to the present and her spilled pencils and lost time. “We’re running behind on the back nine,” Marcus continued speaking. “Carl says we will quit if it reaches five o’clock and we aren’t done yet.” There was a pause and Liz knew he was waiting to see if she was going to pick up. For a moment, she considered doing just that, but then she busied herself with putting her pencils in the cup. “Okay, well I guess you are busy elsewhere. I know you can’t be worrying over primping because you are already too beautiful to be real. I’ll be home in time. See you later.” The message ended upbeat. She could hear it in the tone of his voice. The doubts and insecurities were all hers. Standing, she rubbed her sore lower back. Lately, she seemed to be so tired all she wanted to do was nap…and have sex. Smiling, she decided to go ahead and start to get ready for their evening out.
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Chapter Twelve Marcus was late getting back to her place. Traffic had been bad, he shouted as he ran through the living room to the kitchen. She could hear him getting something out of the refrigerator. A few seconds later, he came sprinting out, loping down the hall towards the bedroom. “Trust me, sweetheart. I can be ready in twenty minutes.” Liz didn’t move from her perch on the coffee table. Here was the only place she could sit and not wrinkle anything. She was already dressed, which included a calflength cashmere sweater coat, which was lightweight enough for spring evenings. A shawl-style wrap collar piece had been added for nippier fall nights, such as tonight. Marcus came careening down the hall nineteen minutes later. He fastened his second cuff link as he came to halt at the entrance to the living room, his silken bow tie hung loose around his neck. Liz stood as he neared, setting down her purse. “I better go to the bathroom before we leave.” Taking her time, she made her way back down the hallway Marcus had just traversed. Deliberately she took five minutes before she returned. Marcus now stood by the opened door. One foot tapped lightly on the carpet as she walked towards him. Liz picked her purse up, opened it and pulled out her lipstick. Using the mirror on the case, she unnecessarily applied another thin layer of soft mauve lip color. Returning it to the small ornamental bag, she paused. “Oh, shoot!” she muttered just loud enough to be heard. “What’s wrong?” Marcus asked quickly. Liz held back her smile, hearing the slightly tense tone in his voice. Even though he had not said a word, she knew that he’d expected her to be ready to walk out the door when he arrived. “I need a handkerchief to take with me. Hold on and I’ll be right back.” With a wave, Liz walked back down the hall. In the bedroom, she took her time once more to locate a small lace handkerchief she’d buried at the bottom of a drawer earlier in the day. Marcus appeared at the doorway of the bedroom after three minutes had passed, standing with his hands on his hips. He didn’t say a word, just merely watched her. After another minute of searching, she pulled the lace cloth from the drawer and shook it so Marcus could see it did exist. Walking towards him, she tucked it into her purse. “Sorry,” she murmured, going down the hall. Instead of waiting, she went straight out of the apartment and pushed the button to call the elevator. Marcus stopped beside her after he locked the front door of the apartment.
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Keeping her face forward, she focused on the lighted numbers above the elevator doors. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pointedly lift his arm, turn his wrist and then shove his shirt cuff back just enough to see his watch. Though difficult, she managed to keep her lips from turning up. She knew she was pushing his buttons by the glare he gave her as he helped her into the car. Up until tonight, she was always ahead of schedule and ready to leave at the designated time. Tonight Marcus drove so there was little time for chitchat before he reached the entrance to the museum. Liz exited the car when the valet opened the door. She heard a low growl behind her and knew Marcus had glimpsed the long expanse of thigh exposed by the slit in her dress. The appreciative grin from the valet proved he had also gotten a good glimpse. Liz acknowledged it made her feel good, attractive and sexy. And more than a little naughty— Marcus didn’t say a word as he grasped her elbow with his hand. She had to hurry as they walked up the long stone stairway to the entrance. Once inside they were greeted by one of his firm’s security people, who were checking everyone’s identification and invitations. Liz realized instantly this party must be even more exclusive than the previous one because of the more intensive security checkpoints. She had to check her coat and as she turned back towards Marcus, she knew the total sheerness of the black dress had been realized. The dress covered her from neck to ankle with a sheer black material that seemed to have tiny “stars” of deep gold, bronze and copper, all which twinkled as she moved. She wore no bra beneath the dress, and she knew under the right light her nipples might be visible. She had found the tiniest of thong panties, in flesh color that matched her skin tone almost perfectly. It fit so precisely that she had no panty line to reveal their presence. For the first time her defiance against Marcus was causing her doubts. Flaunting her body in this dress impacted her, not him, she realized too late. She could do nothing about her lapse in judgment now. As she walked back towards Marcus, his gaze traveled down her body and then back up. She saw his lips thin and jaw tighten as he took in the full effect of the seductive dress. She knew from far away, the dress appeared to be black and apparently covered most of her. But the closer one got to the wearer, the more transparent the material became. From the way Marcus grasped her elbow once she reached his side, she knew he got the full effect of the dress. Marcus led her into the crowded main room, without a word. He was so damned mad at the moment, he was sure he would say something they would both end up regretting. Granted he had asked her to buy something special, and this dress would be great, if they were home alone or he was just meeting her for the first time. Hell, if she’d had this dress on that first night—
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The thought blew him away. The truth was he didn’t like the idea of other men staring at her body, which he was sure would be happening. He knew this evening was not going to turn out the way he wanted. Before he could decide whether to just turn around and leave, he heard his mother calling out his name. “Hello, Marcus darling!” Catherine Waters glided over to them, stretching up to kiss her son’s cheek. She then hugged Liz. “Marcus dear, your father is looking for you. So you take yourself off and I’ll introduce Liz around and enjoy a good gossip about all of your bad habits.” Liz laughed softly at Catherine’s words. He glared, but she seemed to sense his discomfiture and smiled wider. “Hey!” he felt compelled to protest before he gave in to his mother’s gently spoken command. “I don’t have any bad habits.” Catherine took Liz’s arm and turned her towards the open bar. “Run along, Marcus dear,” she called back over her shoulder. “Don’t you worry that we girls won’t have anything to talk about. You have enough bad habits to keep us busy for days, but you probably don’t want to stand around while I point them all out to Liz.” Liz covered her curving lips with her hand. Catherine saw it and laughed. “It does men good to have their bad habits pointed out from time to time. I believe it keeps them from getting too pompous.” She asked the bartender for two champagnes and then led the way off to a quiet corner where she sat, inviting Liz to join her on the long bench. “I’m glad you could come tonight, Liz. I’ve wanted to get to know you better, but Marcus keeps making excuses not to come down over the weekend.” Catherine ignored the younger woman’s bright blush. “I went to the gallery to see your work yesterday. I was quite impressed, my dear. I bought one for the living room of the beach house, and I will take Marcus’ father there next week to pick out one of the drawings for his office. I have my favorite, of course, but I want Bill to concur before he has to look at it all day.” Catherine chuckled, sipping her champagne. “That’s very nice, Catherine, but I don’t want you to feel like you must buy one. I mean just because of Marcus and I—” she broke off abruptly. What were she and Marcus? Dating? Fucking? She certainly couldn’t say that to her lover’s mother. Like a bolt of lightning, she was caught off guard thinking of Marcus as her lover, except in physical terms. While it was true, for the first time she was beginning to see him as her love. Not just that she’d fallen in love with him, which she was finally understanding, and accepting. By seeing him as “her love”, everything became more personal, intimate and undeniable. Her conscience still questioned whether she was betraying her commitment to her career. She had always told herself, and especially
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after she’d learned she couldn’t have children, that she’d devote her life to her art. No way would she bury her talent in the furtherance of a husband’s career. Not like most of the women in the family had done. Catherine drew her attention by pointing out various people around the room. She had an amusing anecdote for nearly every one of them. Liz listened, nodding now and then. She soon relaxed, feeling quite comfortable with the older woman. When the music started up a short time later, Catherine suggested they go in and see who might choose to forget themselves on the dance floor. They stopped to get refills on their drinks first and then went into the area set aside for dancing. In less than two minutes after they entered, a very attractive, dark-haired man approached the two women. “It is delightful to see you once again, Mrs. Waters.” Catherine smiled, nodding. “Good evening, Frank. This is Elizabeth Smith, a good friend of mine. Liz, dear, this is Frank Collier. He does something or other with the business.” Frank eagerly shook hands with Liz. “I am one of the company’s account executives. I was hoping I might ask the pretty lady to dance, if you’ll allow me to steal her away, Catherine?” She assumed that couples stuck together for dancing. Wouldn’t that be expected, since they came together? All these relationship dos and don’ts were making her feel off-kilter and a little crazy. Her experience at fancy parties like this was nil. She halfway hoped Catherine would prefer her to stay with her. Catherine nodded. Liz scrambled for a polite way to refuse, something she’d never been very good at. Instead she didn’t resist as Frank took her hand. As they walked towards the dance floor, she was sure she heard Catherine jest, “It isn’t me you need to worry about stealing from.” A few seconds later, she was dancing with Frank Collier. He was a good dancer she quickly discovered as the music changed to a rather quick-paced Latin rhythm. Easily, she followed his steps, grateful the dance classes she’d taken as part of her Art curriculum were going to pay off finally. Liz was surprised when an area around them cleared. The longer they danced, and especially once they became the center of attention, Frank really got into the dance. He pulled her close for a slow, sinuous step, holding her body pressed intimately against his. As the music dictated, she twirled out. He immediately and firmly jerked his arm to pull her back until she slammed into his body once more.
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Liz gasped as the force caused her carefully pinned chignon to tumble down over her shoulders. She had little time to recover when he slid his leg between hers and then dipped her low as the song finished. Her cheeks flushed brightly as many of the people on the dance floor applauded, laughing and cheering them on. “Bravo!” “Do it again!” “Ask the band to play a tango!” Frank very slowly returned her to an upright position and held her hand as he bowed. Curtseying seemed her only response, and luckily the slit in her skirt allowed her to execute a fairly deep one. As she looked up, she found Marcus staring, and he was not smiling. Between feeling overheated from the dance and nervous at Marcus’ unhappy expression, she had a distinct buzzing in her head. Surprised that she could hear anything Liz realized the band started the first notes for a new dance number. Turning, Frank grinned. “Would you please join me in another dance?” Before she could even begin to reply, her other arm was grabbed and she looked up at Marcus’ steely-eyed gaze. Immediately, Frank stopped as Marcus pulled Liz closer. “Marcus and I are here together,” Liz spoke quickly, shaking her head. With a shrug and a slight smile, Frank stepped away. Turning, she looked at Marcus. Her stomach flipped over, twice. In her mind she wondered what he would do. He really had no reason to be angry. She blinked quickly as tears filled her eyes. Emotions swamped her from every direction—love, regret, and disgust at herself for feeling anything except joy at dancing. Following quickly were desire and passion, and lastly confusion. One thing was completely clear—she was not used to all this emotional excitement. Without saying a word, he pulled her close as the music rose around them. He held her very tightly, not bothering with any fancy footsteps. Lowering her head to rest against his chest, she listened to the pounding of his heart. Her breath caught in her chest when she felt Marcus’ hand come up and caress her hair. When his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back, she met his gaze. His head came down, and he kissed her mouth. The kiss was slow, sensual and would have knocked her socks off if she had any on! “Come on,” Marcus growled and almost dragged her off the floor. A few minutes later, he had accessed the second floor, leading her to the bench where they’d first spoken. He pulled her down onto the bench beside him and sat in silence for a few moments.
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Liz was sure she felt his anger coming towards her in waves. She also sensed that he was feeling numerous other emotions, the same as she. Maybe he was just as confused as she was by what was happening between them. Obviously, he was not pleased at the way the evening turned out. In all honesty, neither was she. Almost from the first moment they arrived, she wished her common sense had kicked in and kept her from wearing this dress. Like walking sex, the dress was made to pick up men. A woman who was happy and content in her relationship would dress to please herself and the man in her life. What she had done was deliberately flaunt her body in front of every man present. The worst thing about this was it was a betrayal of who she truly was. She didn’t have anything against sensuality, but figuratively standing on a chair like a five year old and shouting “look at me, look at me” was not in her, normally. Lately, though, she wasn’t doing much of anything that was usual. Nervously, she struggled for something to say. She wasn’t a doormat, nor did she feel like she was guilty or wrong. Instinctively, she knew she wanted to apologize for her behavior, her choices. She was sorry if she’d hurt him. The realization shocked her. After several long moments of silence, he pulled a long slender box from his jacket’s inner pocket. “I wanted to give you this earlier, but we didn’t have time at the apartment. I figured you would want to wear it as you arrived so you could show it off.” Liz took the long box from him gingerly, not comfortable with the feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Other than the flowers, and the dress, he had not showered her with presents. Well, there was the bed…but that had been for him as well, she reminded herself. Gulping back her emotions, she was glad he’d not deluged her with jewelry and whatever else wealthy men gave their mistresses. She didn’t think she should accept anything from him, because their relationship was such a nebulous thing right now. He never referred to her as his girlfriend, or even “live-in buddy”. How did a man introduce his mistress to his parents? Slowly, she flipped open the lid and felt her stomach drop as she saw the diamond bracelet nestled on the black velvet lining. The jewels reflected light while not even moving. Marcus lifted the platinum bracelet from the box and quickly fastened it around her left wrist. Her head shook in denial even though verbally she could not find the words to thank or refuse the gift. “What’s wrong, Elizabeth? Are you all right?” Marcus asked her. Looking up, she spoke without answering his question. “Marcus, you shouldn’t have done this—”
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Marcus laughed softly. “Why not? It looks beautiful on your arm. Of course, if you’d rather have a necklace, or even earrings, we can go back and pick them up as well.” Her head jerked up and down as her emotions roiled up inside her, demanding release. The hard knot in her throat made it difficult to speak. “I mean you shouldn’t spend money like this on me.” She stood and took a few steps away. Marcus followed her. “Why not? It’s my money and I can do whatever I damn well please with it.” Still shaking her head, she felt overwhelmed and a roaring sounded in her ears as she told him, “You can’t buy me this way, Marcus.” Anger raged through him. The intensity surprised him as he questioned her through gritted teeth. “Buy you! Who the hell said anything about buying you? What the hell are you babbling about now?” Marcus growled, getting angrier himself. “I’m not buying you! I just wanted to give you something pretty—” “Really? Are you sure it isn’t because you wanted to mark me as your possession? With this on my wrist, no one will doubt I belong to you, will they? It would be obvious that I was your kept woman.” She faced him, her back ramrod straight and her fists clenched. Marcus stepped closer. “Kept woman?” He gestured with a sweeping of his hand. “I think you are feeling guilty about dancing with Collier.” “Guilty! Don’t be silly. I have no reason to be guilty about anything. That dance was perfectly innocent.” She turned to walk away. But Marcus caught up with her and dragged her over behind the tall screen. Pressing her up against the hard divider, his hand cupped her chin to hold her face immobile. He looked down into her face, attempting to read what was really going on inside her head. But since she couldn’t turn away, Liz lowered her lashes. His voice was strained as he lowered his head and mouth closer to hers. “What you and I did was simply dance, my sweet. You and Collier were making love on the dance floor!” He lowered his mouth the last inch and kissed her deeply. When his head lifted, he heard her gasp in air. “Only you were doing it with an audience.” “Maybe that is what really angered you, Marcus.” Liz struggled to catch her breath after his kiss. She didn’t think she’d had too much to drink, but his kisses easily overwhelmed and intoxicated her tonight. She lashed out. “Are you a voyeur? Or do you want someone to watch the next time you fuck me?” Liz whispered harshly, angry that he was calling her dance with Collier “making love”. How could he even think such a horrible thought after everything they had shared? Needing to protect and shield
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herself, she attacked him verbally. “Is that it? Have you been hiding some deep, dark kinky fetish?” The minute the words left her lips, she wished she could recall them. The accusations were not true and only said in anger. She wanted to shout at him. Boiling up inside were all the feelings she’d experienced since meeting Marcus. At war inside her were feelings of love, passion and self-doubt. Liz looked up, feeling the uncontrollable need to taunt him, anger him, and even make him lash out. She wanted…no, she needed some kind of emotional sign that he cared, more than just sex. Pushing them all away, she struggled to loosen his hold, but couldn’t. She felt him slide one leg between her own and then felt his hand gliding up her leg. Too late, she realized he had pulled up her dress along with his hand. And then the heat of his hand caressing her lower tummy jolted her into complete awareness. “Marcus, please, let me go—” Liz told him softly. Even to her ears the words sounded weak and without substance. As her hands pushed ineffectually against him, she murmured, “We can’t be doing this.” The tone of her voice sounded unbelievable to her. Marcus lowered his head to suck at her nipple through her dress, while his hand moved lower and between her thighs. The tiny thong presented no real barrier. He groaned against her breast as her wetness greeted him, moving his fingers between her shaven lips. He found and began toying and teasing her clit, moving his mouth back up to cover her cries as he took her closer to climax. “Why can’t we be doing this, Liz? I can’t think of a single good reason why we shouldn’t do this. I know quite a few other men would gladly take my place tonight, after seeing you half dressed in that damned dress.” Marcus dropped to his knees in front of her. He lifted one of her thighs to rest on his shoulder. Both his hands grabbed hold of the flesh-colored thong, ripping it off her. His mouth moved to sample her sweet wetness. Liz cried out as he licked her clit and then moved his tongue back again and again, to lap at her juices. Belatedly, she covered her mouth with her hand. A second later and she wouldn’t have been able to bury her cry of climax as Marcus relentlessly drove her crashing to her volcanic finish. As he stood once again, Liz’s legs were shaking so badly she could barely remain upright. Marcus supported her while he unzipped his tuxedo trousers. Without further delay, he lifted her, moving her legs to encircle his hips. Her arms wrapped around his neck just a second before he thrust into her waiting heat. Her gasp was caught by his mouth, and drowned. His own groan of delight as her flesh closed around his hardness echoed to her. He flexed his hips, sliding in and then back out, just a little. She tried to hold him within her body, but he was already thrusting too fast for her to grip and hold him tight. Her
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clit was pressed hard against his cock and was stimulated all over again by the thrusting of his hips. He lowered his mouth to suck on the tender, pale skin at her neck, only barely managing to once again seal her mouth with his, as her cry of passion broke free. His body came quickly and hot streams of cum jetted deep into her tight cunt. Nearly lost in the throes of passion, he barely noticed her head dropping to rest on his shoulder. Liz relaxed her hold on Marcus, allowing her legs slide down. She felt her dress slowly ease back down into place. Marcus lightly kissed the side of her neck, her cheek. Tears were but a sigh away, yet she had no real idea why. She had what she wanted, right? No commitment, no ties. It’s precisely what she had asked for the first day in her studio. How dare she want more? she questioned herself silently. A little voice kept whispering, “You deserve to be happy.” She could feel Marcus watching her, almost like he waited for her to say something, but she couldn’t think of the right words. She turned away, running her hands through her hair, trying to smooth it back. Realizing the neat chignon was long gone, she tried to straighten the hair into some sort of presentable order. Her heart ached to tell him of her love, yet she had no idea how he felt about her. He had always treated her with politeness and respect. Was she confusing his caresses, kisses and passionate outcries for something more than lust? Could she bear it if he rejected her deeper emotions, but wanted to continue their physical arrangement? Immediately, she questioned her own thoughts. Was falling in love with Marcus a betrayal of her commitment to her future art career? If she had a normal relationship with Marcus, would it naturally follow that she’d give up her career? She had seen that none of his friends’ or business peers’ wives worked outside the home. Money would not be an issue because he was a very generous man. She could see herself spending her time alone languishing for Marcus to return home each day. Perhaps she would occasionally pick up a pencil to draw a little, but she doubted that she could hide away in her studio for long hours into the night. Countless times, this was exactly the way she’d worked to create her drawings and paintings until literally she just couldn’t make one more stroke on the paper. The feelings of loneliness and loss shocked her. In meeting Marcus’ friends, she knew many had children to fill their hours. But she could not even have the possibility of a child to fill her life. With the movement of her arm, she caught sight of the glittering bracelet on her wrist. Grateful to leave her sad imaginings behind, she appreciated the beautiful jewelry, and she had no doubt as to its being expensive. “We should probably be getting back,” she told him softly, turning towards the steps that would lead back downstairs. Hopefully, she could push her emotions back down and deal with it all 122
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later, back home in her apartment. “Thank you for the bracelet. It really is quite lovely. I know I was churlish to refuse your generous gift and I apologize.” She didn’t wait for Marcus to reply, but turned and started to walk down the stairs. In the back of her mind, she knew nothing had been settled and soon she would be forced to tell Marcus. At that point, Liz knew she’d have to let the proverbial chips fall where they may. She was about halfway down the long, marble, curving staircase. “Hey, Liz! I need to ask you something about when I was a kid,” Tommy called to her from below. Liz smiled at Tommy. Lifting her hand from the banister, she waved. “Liz, stop! We need to talk!” Marcus shouted her name from a short distance behind her. She was surprised he called out. She continued down the stairs, her body faced forward when her head jerked around at Marcus’ strident tone. A split second, her foot was in the air and then it was turning, sliding and out of control. Slow motion set in and she realized by turning so quickly, combined with two glasses of champagne and no food, she was dizzy. Her head started spinning almost the same second as her body. Her foot missed a step and her hand couldn’t find the railing. It seemed to be a long moment, almost frozen in time. Liz felt herself fall down the steps. The first hard bump of her head on the cold marble came, and she lost consciousness before she reached the last step.
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Chapter Thirteen Tommy got to Liz first, going down onto his knees beside her. He reached to lift her head. “No!” Marcus shouted. “It’s not safe to move her.” He still stood a few steps above her and felt as if he was in some kind of weird slow-motion movie, all with long tunnel shots and sounds. Spotting the head of security, Phil Guerrero, standing nearby, he pointed and yelled, “Call 911!” He ran down the steps. Kneeling next to Liz, he saw that her body was sprawled part on the stairs, her hips were on the floor. He took her limp hand in his, shocked at how cool it felt. A noise made him look up. Tommy was crouched at her shoulders, half perched on the bottom two steps where she had ended her fall. His gaze moved over her slowly, seeing one leg bent at an odd angle, but he didn’t think it was broken. “Liz?” he called her name softly, but she didn’t stir, and this worried him even more. Above and around him, he was dimly aware people were talking. Looking up, he met Carl Winters’ gaze. “Will you go wait by the door, Carl? For the ambulance?” “Sure thing, Marcus. I’ll show them the way.” The other man turned away after squeezing his wife’s hand. His father leaned down to ask him something, but he shook his head. Not a single word had made any sense. He looked up when he saw his mother kneel next to him. “She’ll be all right, son, I’m sure of it,” Catherine reassured him as she lightly patted his arm. Dimly, Marcus was aware of his parents, the people standing around, but mostly he only saw the odd way Liz was sprawled on the cold steps. He thought her skin was nearly the same white as the cold marble. The paramedics arrived shortly. “Step back, son. Let them work.” Catherine pulled on his arm. He stood and moved back a few feet. As he watched, Tommy was also moved away from Liz. Quickly and efficiently, the medical personnel began assessing her, asking questions in between as to what had happened. Marcus tried to focus on what they said, but a lot of it was running together. He was disgusted that he didn’t know her birthday or if she was allergic to anything.
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“What about her purse, son?” Catherine asked quietly. “She might have her information in there. Do you know where it is?” He paused, not sure where it was, or if she’d even brought one with her. Could she have left it upstairs? “Um, I don’t know. We were upstairs—” “I’ll run up and check,” Tommy offered quickly. Distracted by his thoughts, he only noticed the blood pooled beneath her head when the paramedic applied the cervical collar. “God! I didn’t know she’d cut her head!” One of the paramedics looked up. “Her hair seems to have absorbed most of it. We won’t be able to assess it fully until we reach the emergency room. Now, everybody, please step back. We are going to place her on the backboard to transport her.” Everyone obeyed the authoritative tone. As the medical professionals moved Liz’s unconscious body, no one spoke a word. As they pushed the litter forward, Marcus spoke up. “I’ll ride with you.” The taller of the two professionals stopped and faced Marcus. “It would be better if you could follow us to the hospital.” Marcus barely took a breath. “No! I need to be with—” “We’ll follow the ambulance, dear,” Catherine spoke softly as she interrupted him. “You and Dad have the party,” he pointed out, feeling like he was trying to move through thick fog, both physically and emotionally. He needed to know she was going to be all right and things seem to be going at a snail’s pace. “We’ll follow in a few minutes, as soon as I talk to George,” his father told him quickly, patting Marcus on his back. “What hospital are you going to?” “I looked all over, but I couldn’t find her purse,” Tommy interrupted. George Zapakis stood nearby and replied, “I’m here, Bill. Take off now. We’ve got it covered.” Tommy moved over towards Marcus. “Let me call for your car and I’ll drive you. That will give your parents time to do whatever.” He turned to look at Annette. “I’ll be fine. My parents are here,” she reassured him quickly. Marcus turned and walked towards the entrance, dimly aware Tommy was beside him. Tommy stopped to tell the attendant to get Marcus’ car. The paramedics were just placing Liz’ stretcher in the back of the ambulance as he neared it. Marcus jogged over and reached out to cover Liz’s hand where it looked much too white against the sheet covering her from the waist down. He glanced up at the nearest paramedic. “Are you sure I can’t ride with you?” The paramedics both shook their heads. “Sorry, man, but the only way we could let you ride would be if you were her father and she was underage.”
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Marcus cursed softly, but nodded reluctantly. Tommy had just stopped beside him. “Your car is ready. I’ll drive you or ride with you.” “Okay.” Marcus nodded and then called out loudly to his parents as they placed Liz into the ambulance, “I’m riding with Tommy! Just follow us when you can.” The ride to the hospital was harrowing. The ambulance had about a thirty-second lead, but Marcus couldn’t catch up with them. And he did try. When they reached the hospital, he pulled up to the emergency room entrance. He had one leg out of the car. Tommy spoke quickly, “I’ll park and meet you in the waiting room.” Nodding brusquely, Marcus raced into the emergency room. At the desk, the male clerk looked up after a few seconds. “My girlfriend…sorry, my fiancée was just brought in by ambulance. Her name is Elizabeth Smith.” The clerk looked down at a paper and then back up. “All I can tell you is that she is here.” “Okay, just let me go back to where she is.” Marcus turned towards the admittance door. “You will have to wait outside, sir,” the clerk told him. “But I’m with her,” Marcus offered as his explanation, suddenly realizing according to the law and places like this, he had no right to be with Liz. Technically, he was nothing more than her boyfriend. God! The term boyfriend sounded stupid. He wasn’t sixteen any longer. That’s partly why he had said Liz was his fiancée. The clerk shook his head. “Friends must wait in the reception area. Check in at the reception desk.” “The doctor will come out and talk to me there?” The clerk turned to look at the young black woman who had just come to the desk and stood beside him. “Penny, he’s asking about Elizabeth Smith.” Marcus got the distinct impression the young man had passed him off. Grimacing, he shifted to face the petite dark-skinned woman. A glance at her tag and he saw she was a registered nurse. “Hello, Penny,” he spoke quickly, using his best businessmanin-charge voice, polite and no-nonsense. “My fiancée is Elizabeth Smith and I want to have the doctor come out and speak to me as soon as he can.” “I see. Well, until Miss Smith regains consciousness and gives her permission, we can’t give out any information beyond the fact that she is or is not here. You are welcome to have a seat in our waiting area.” “That’s ridiculous. I’m as close to family—”
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Penny crossed her arms. “You are welcome to wait, like I said. If you give me your name, I’ll let her know you are here.” Marcus knew there would be no arguing or cajoling his way around her. “Marcus Waters.” He turned and walked out. He was pacing the waiting room when his father, mother, and then Tommy all rushed into the room. Livid described his state of mind since he had been denied entrance to where Liz was. Marcus barely listened as his father spoke and then pushed him into a chair. “I’ll go see what I can find out. Maybe you should have a cup of coffee or a soda.” “That’s a good idea, Marcus,” Catherine murmured. Marcus turned his head towards her as she took the seat beside him. “Tommy dear, would you see about some coffee?” She patted Marcus’ knee. Bill told him quickly, “Calm down, Marcus. I can just imagine how you’ve been ‘asking’ questions. No, you stay put. Talk to your mother.” He listened to his mother talking beside him, but he doubted he knew what she told him. Between the adrenaline coursing through him and his concern over Liz, it was surprising a single word made sense. He was glad when Annette and her parents arrived a short time later. His mother was quickly diverted away. About ten minutes later, Bill returned. Marcus jumped to his feet. Without pause, he asked tersely, “So, what are they doing? Anything?” Bill nodded. “I’ve spoken with one of the nurses working with Liz, but accordingly to some new laws they are restricted in what information they can release about a patient. Technically, the only thing they can tell is if a person is in the hospital or not.” Tommy made a scoffing noise. “That’s ridiculous. When someone is brought to the emergency, people are going to want to hear how they are.” “Well, in talking with the nurse, she revealed Liz was still unconscious, but that was only because she said ‘once she became conscious’. After that, well, that’s all she would tell me.” “They must be doing something. Was that all the nurse said?” Marcus shoved his fists into his pants pockets. “They are taking very good care of her, son. I’m sure they will obtain some x-rays and probably run a few blood tests.” He paused for a moment. “They asked about her insurance and need someone to come to the desk and fill in forms for the hospital.” Marcus nodded. Tommy scoffed. “Typical. They refuse to tell anything but want to make damned sure they get their pound of flesh.” “Yeah, well, I’ll go and make sure everything is in order.” Marcus returned to the check-in desk.
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Directed to the admitting area, he was soon seated in a small admissions cubicle and he started answering questions as best he could. He was surprised at how little he really knew about Liz. He felt like a fool when he didn’t even know her birthday! He signed he would be responsible for her bill, stating she had no insurance. Once they had finished, he took a slow, deep breath, he then asked if he could see her. He hoped he could gain admittance this way, but the admittance clerk referred him back to the emergency room’s front desk.
***** Liz groaned as she became aware of pounding. Lifting her hands, she rubbed her temples. Wondering why she had a stage full of Wadaikado, the huge Japanese drums used in modern Taiko performances, rebounding loudly inside her head. While her fingers massaged the bruised and painful area, she opened her eyes to see saw a tube coming out of some tape on the top of her hand. “Why do I have an IV?” “Welcome back to the land of the awakened!” Liz turned her head towards the voice, but stopped as the pain in her head pounded again. “Ouch! Why does my head hurt?” “You fell down the stairs, Ms. Smith. You’ve got a fair number of bumps and bruises to prove it.” Liz shifted and saw a smiling, dark-haired nurse in bright pink scrubs standing by her right side. “Well, you’re not dressed for the ball and I didn’t have this earlier.” She held up her left hand. “So I must not be in Kansas anymore.” Her nurse laughed out loud. “Good one, Ms. Smith. I can see your sense of humor is unscathed by the fall.” “Call me Liz, please. As long as I don’t see any little people, yellow bricks or flying monkeys, I’ll know the world is not over the rainbow. And these days, what more can a girl ask for?” The nurse opened her mouth to reply. “I thought I heard laughter coming from in here.” Another voice butted in on the conversation. Liz turned her head, groaned but still focused on the speaker. She saw a tall, goodlooking man in green scrubs, white jacket and an impressive, thick and what appeared to be heavy stethoscope hanging around his neck. “Is that against the law in Oz?” she asked, smiling. “Not at all, Ms. Smith. In fact, I encourage it in all my patients. I’m your doctor here in the emergency room, John Carteris. You’ve managed to scare a fair number of people this evening. Congratulations!” “I’d prefer to do it in a way that involved a cake with candles and didn’t make my head hurt. How much damage have I done, Dr. Carteris?”
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“You have a mild concussion. I want you stay tonight at least, and I’ll decide tomorrow depending on how well you are doing when you can go home. It’s amazing that you didn’t break any bones.” John smiled, pulling over the metal stool and sitting on her left side. “Now, Ms. Smith—” “Please, call me Liz. I’ve never been one for formalities.” “Very well, Liz.” The young doctor smiled back. “You know where you are?” he asked, checking her level of consciousness. “I know I’m in a hospital emergency room somewhere. Um, is there someone waiting for me? I was at a party and I think I fell.” “Very good.” He paused, glancing down at the chart. “I’ve heard there is an irate gentleman waiting in our reception area. He was very unhappy when he learned about the HIPAA regulations that limit patient confidentiality these days.” “Oh, okay. I’m sure Marcus is like a bull in a china shop about now if he hasn’t been told anything, and especially since he wasn’t allowed to come in here.” “If you give your consent, I can let him know how you are doing. I’m not sure how long until your room is ready upstairs, but if you like he can come back for a few minutes. Besides being unconscious until now, you have a bump and small cut on the back of your head. As with all head wounds, there was a lot of blood, but we got it stitched together without any troubles.” Liz immediately moved her hand to the back of her head and ran into the thick, padded dressing. “Also, you’ve definitely got a swollen right ankle. Like I said, no broken bones we’re seen on x-ray…which brings me to another point.” Liz nodded, liking this young doctor. He seemed quite nice. “No broken bones…that’s a good thing.” “Hospital standards of care dictate if unconscious, we use a pelvic shield for xrays.” Nearly a minute passed in silence. The young doctor cleared his throat before he continued, “Um, we do that as a precaution since we couldn’t check with you about any chance you might be pregnant.” For a moment, she couldn’t respond. Pushing her memories away, she smiled. “Too bad I was out of it or I would have told you don’t bother. I can’t get pregnant.” She stopped when she saw the strange look on the young man’s face. If she had to guess, she’d hazard that he didn’t believe her. She spoke quickly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m used to it after all these years.” Dr. Carteris shifted on the stool, changing his position twice before he spoke again. “Why do you think that, Ms…I mean, Liz?” “My doctor told me I couldn’t, and that was back when I turned seventeen.” “What happened?”
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“I had an ectopic pregnancy when I was sixteen. Unfortunately, and I guess like most girls in similar circumstances, I ignored the obvious symptoms, hoping for who knows what.” The doctor nodded. “What sent you to the doctor finally? Pain, bleeding?” Liz took a deep breath. “I tried to hide the pain and I pretended the bleeding was my period finally arriving to bail me out.” She laughed shortly, still wanting to keep the distressing emotions at bay and retell the story dispassionately. “Those are all common reactions for a girl that age, Liz. I’m guessing you became dizzy and passed out?” Liz snorted at his correct words. “Yes, during the Christmas play. Needless to say, I was the talk of the town. Anyhow, as I’m sure you can guess, the worst had happened. My tube had ruptured, I lost a fair amount of blood, they said, and there were complications, and infections were hard to clear up. Eventually, I had some testing done as I was healing, and then again when I finished high school. The doctor told me the scarring was too extensive on my remaining fallopian tube. He said it would be highly unlikely, probably impossible, to get pregnant.” She paused as she saw the look on the doctor’s face, but took a deep breath and went on. “I never asked again after hearing it once. I’ve never been a glutton for pain so I just accepted this is how it would be.” The doctor nodded. “And you have been sexually active in between?” She shook her head. Not completely sure why, she felt embarrassed by her lack of experience. This day and age, nearly everyone had had more than one partner by their thirtieth birthday, unless they lived the life of a monk or a nun. Her life had been monastic, she acknowledged, except for the brown robe and a stale bread and water diet. Softly she replied, “No one since the pregnancy and…well, just recently.” “I’m sure your doctor was convinced back then, but you were young and the human body is an amazing machine, healing itself sometimes when we least expect it. I can order a pregnancy test unless you can remember when your last cycle was.” His eyebrows lifted at the end of his sentence. Her memory was jogged in an instant. She could not remember the last one because it had been so long ago. Dimly, she knew her mouth dropped open. No way could this be true. She refused to let her hopes be raised. Her eyelids closed tightly for a second as she silently vowed to not believe what the doctor was saying, no matter what. Finally, she looked up and met his gaze again. “I’ll follow up with my doctor. Did you find anything else wrong with me?” She saw the change on the young man’s face instantly. Her cool tone and dismissal had not gone unnoticed. It was rude on her part, but she had to protect her heart. “That will depend on you. What I mean is that we’ll need to see how you feel. If something hurts or doesn’t feel right, call for the nurse.” He gestured to the corded button tied to the railing of the stretcher. “Should I let your friends come back for a little bit?” 130
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She nodded quickly. “And thank you for your service. Oh, Dr. Carteris, please don’t mention the possibility of the pregnancy test.” “Certainly. The nurses will be checking in as well until your room is ready. If you feel a change, let them know.” “Thanks,” she murmured as the doctor smiled, pulling open the curtain he’d shut to talk with her.
***** Liz glanced up a few minutes later when a petite African-American woman entered the cubicle. She adjusted the curtains to conceal both sides and leave the bottom end open. “I’m glad to see you are awake, Ms. Smith. My name is Penny and I’ll be your nurse until we get you upstairs.” Liz nodded, fighting back the tears that wanted to flow since her talk with the doctor. “Call me Liz. Could I get some water?” “Of course, I’ll be right back.” Liz wished she’d waited. Her tears were still so near the surface she was afraid they’d overflow any second now. The last thing she needed would be to spill her guts in front of Marcus. She kept her eyes tightly closed until the nurse returned lightly touching her hand to get her attention. Gratefully, she drank a few sips and then answered the nurse’s questions. Finally, Penny put away her ink pen and closed the chart. She had completed another set of vital signs, as well. “You have a very irate gentleman waiting in the reception area. Would you like to see him?” Liz nodded. “I should think irate describes him better than gentleman does at this point.” Penny shrugged, smiling. “A man who looks that fine in a tuxedo deserves the title. Besides which I sensed a nice guy beneath that gruff exterior and poorly concealed worry.” “He was worried?” Liz hated the need to ask the question and especially the needy way she waited on her answer. “They all looked worried, but he seemed particularly concerned. Relax and I’ll go get him.” She paused at the end of the stretcher and looked back at Liz. “If my husband looked as good as your fiancé does in a tuxedo, I’d have him wearing one all the time.” With a smile, she was gone. All right. I must have had a brain injury. Surely she didn’t just say fiancé? No way could Marcus have used the word in conjunction with himself…right?
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She lifted her fingers to rub her temples, stopping when the intravenous tubing pulled at her left one. Closing her eyes, wishing she could turn back the clock and not taken off down the stairs. She let her temper get the better of her— Pregnant? She shook her head again. So what if she couldn’t remember the last time her cycle had started? It was impossible for her to get pregnant and she wasn’t going to waste her time and emotions thinking about it. For one thing, dwelling on the idea always made her wonder if she’d made the right decision. Second-guessing wasn’t something she liked to engage in since it was so counterproductive. And it never took much effort to start wondering if she had been able to have children, would her dedication to her art career have been so driven and single-minded. Even though she had wanted to go to college, have a career and not get married early as was the family tradition, she loved kids. In high school, she’d been one of the few girls who enjoyed babysitting because of the kids and not for the money. Following the harrowing illness and drawn-out recovery from the ectopic pregnancy, learning she was essentially barren had been more than she could process. Only after she’d been living with her aunt and was nearly through college, did the reality hit home. While it wasn’t easy, she’d hardened her heart and put all her energies into her career. Everything was fine until— “Liz!” Marcus stood just inside the curtain, unable to fully accept how pale and small she looked lying on the hospital stretcher. She had on a white gown with some kind of blue design instead of her dress. She looked over at him, meeting his gaze a second later. Dark shadows were under her eyes, but maybe that was just due to the damned lighting they had in these places. For a moment, he felt tongue-tied. Being funny and offhand would get them past the awkward phase, yet he hesitated to hide his feelings. Old habits were hard to break. “I could have driven you home instead of you calling for an ambulance.” Liz smiled. “Two glasses of champagne and I thought I could fly down those steps.” He crossed to stand beside her. “You can stay five minutes, and then I’m going to transfer her upstairs to her room. You’ll be able to go up and wait for her there.” Penny handed him a slip of paper. “There’s the room number and one for the phone, as well.” Marcus stuffed the note in his pocket. “Thank you.” “No problem. Enjoy your visit.” Penny pulled the curtain closed around them. Dragging the metal stool over with his foot, he sat beside her. Reaching between the rails, he covered her free hand with his. “She could probably make it as a Marine sergeant.” “I thought her face looked perfect for a drawing. She has super bone structure.”
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Marcus shook his head. “No more small talk, Liz. How are you? This damned place wouldn’t tell us a damned thing. I don’t care what they call it but these new government regulations suck.” “I know, but they are there to protect people against losing their job or insurance by limiting access to medical records. I’m fine, though. One ankle is sprained and my head is being pounded by the road crew with their jackhammer. I can go home tomorrow. I will need something to wear home, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” Liz smiled up at him. For a moment, he couldn’t move. Liz was talking like he was her buddy, a friend, rather than her lover—the person she was most intimate with on the face of the earth. “Of course, I’ll bring some clothes. I think we should go to the shore for a few days, though.” “I don’t want to intrude on your parents, Marcus. I’ll be fine while you’re gone during the day.” Liz reached up to push her hair back behind her ears. Marcus reached over and did her left side since the tubing got in the way. “I have to fly out Tuesday morning on that business trip I told you about last week.” “Oh, now I remember—Japan, right?” she said. “For three days, sweetheart, and there’s no way I can get out of it, or I would.” Liz smiled. “I know.” “Well, let’s see you how you manage on Sunday.” He started to add how impossible he’d find it if she were alone. But something held the words back. Why couldn’t he just spill his guts? Liz nodded a moment later. He knew it was fear of her rejection that kept him silent. That truth was hard to accept considering his success and no-holds-barred way of doing business. For a man who didn’t fear much of anything, Liz’s refusal of his love would cut him in two. He had no doubt about it. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Is there anything you need from the apartment? I can bring it back for you.” “No, don’t bother. It’s just the one night away from home. There is still time, I’m sure, for you to get back to the party.” Marcus couldn’t believe what Liz had just said, and so casually. How could she think he’d want to go back to a damned party! Clamping his mouth shut, he held off talking about it now. “Why don’t you tell me what you would want to take to the shore, and I’ll pack a bag so it’s one less thing to deal with if we decide to leave.” Liz nodded. “Okay. I’ll need my sketchbook, the black one on the side stand. I have a green bag on the bottom shelf. That is all I need except for a watercolor block. Now that is—” “Hold on a second, honey. I’ll pack one whole bag with your art stuff, but first I was thinking about clothes. You know the things we wear when we don’t play nudist weekend.” He added the last, hoping to make her smile.
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“Marcus!” she said quickly. “Shh!” Grinning, he winked as he replied. “Now, think clothes first—” She continued to give him the items she thought she would need until the curtain shifted once more. Two nurses entered, pulling back the curtains completely. “All right, we’re ready to transfer you to a room. Dr. Carteris said he would run upstairs to see you shortly. We just got a couple of admissions that require his prompt attention.” Liz nodded. “That’s okay. Can I get something for a headache first?” “Sure thing,” Penny told her. Looking at Marcus, she said, “You can head on upstairs if you want. Each unit is different on who they let stay. Most are fairly lax, depending on how busy things are.” “Thanks. I’ll go out and tell my folks so they can take off.” “Marcus!” Liz called out to him. “Yeah?” He glanced back over his shoulder. “It’s okay if you want to leave now. I’m sure they’ll want me to go to sleep right away, since it’s so late. I’ll be fine.” Marcus fought hard to keep his anger in check at the way she was determined to brush him off and get rid of him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” He paused, waiting for her to change her mind. The few seconds felt like minutes. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning.” Holding his emotions and words in check, he strode back and kissed her forehead gently. “Good night, honey.” “Bye,” Liz whispered. Quickly, he turned and walked out.
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Chapter Fourteen Liz didn’t need the mirror on the bedside stand to tell her how bad she looked right now. She’d had a restless night. Every time she got her worries under control and settled down enough to sleep, she would move and wake in pain. Or her nurse would check vital signs and her level of consciousness. When Tommy walked in around ten that morning, his grin was last thing she wanted to see. “Hello, gorgeous! I’m here to drive you home,” Tommy said as he walked over and flopped down in the chair beside her bed. “Oh,” she said, cold moving through her body. Tommy was obviously the arrangement Marcus had made to transport her home. This was not a workday, so why wasn’t he here? “The nurse at the desk said she’d be in to help you get dressed.” Tommy lifted one leg to rest his foot on the other knee. “I don’t have anything to wear home. I don’t think my dress from last night is wearable.” She sat up quickly. Immediately, she grimaced as those Wadaiko drums started to percuss once more. Using her fingertips, she rubbed her temples. “I hope it wasn’t ruined. I spent a lot of money on it.” “Marcus can afford many more dresses, Liz. I’ll go out and see if they’ll loan you some scrubs and see what else I need to do to spring you.” “Ask if they sell the scrubs, or if I can buy something in the gift shop. I’ll pay you back,” she spoke softly. “Sure thing, Liz, sit tight.” Liz wasn’t at all surprised to see Tommy’s old car waiting at the front entrance when she was finally wheeled out the hospital exit. The ride to her apartment didn’t take too long. Tommy didn’t seem to mind she was silent for most of the short drive. Her mind was in turmoil, as were her emotions, as she drove herself a little crazy wondering why Marcus had not come this morning. Once they arrived, she insisted Tommy not get out of the car. “I’ll be fine on my own,” she asserted. A short time later and using a walker supplied by the hospital, she hobbled into the apartment building. It was slow going, but she felt steadier with the walker than trying to balance on two crutches. They had tested her earlier at the hospital, and because she was showing aches and pains all over today, the walker was the safer choice.
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She unlocked the door to her apartment. The need to cry her eyes out had been brewing for some time. Since she didn’t want an audience for that display of waterworks, she’d pushed Tommy to leave her at the entrance. Inside her apartment, she paused to set the plastic sack with her meager belongings beside the entrance table. Walking much farther was impossible. With slow steps and frequent groans, she finally sat on the nearby sofa. Happily, she twisted until she was flat on the long couch. Arranging a few pillows for her head, her sprained ankle and lastly her back, she settled on her side to sleep. She took two deep breaths to calm herself and then the tears came. The silence of the apartment told its own story. She had expected to find Marcus here, or some kind of note telling her where he might be. It was silly to think something had changed between them. The disagreement over the bracelet wasn’t enough to make Marcus leave her. Last night, she had been crazy in her thinking. No doubt her hormones and her nerves had something to do with it. Hormones? No, the doctor was wrong in his speculations. She was not pregnant. She was glad she’d refused the pregnancy test when he had offered it. Absolutely not. No doubt her period would start in the next few days and then she would feel foolish for ever thinking it might be possible. She fell asleep and her tears dried on her face. Marcus walked down the hall, drying his hair as he continued towards the kitchen. He figured he still had about an hour before Tommy got home with Liz. By that time, he should have everything set up. In the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the milk carton. For a scant second, he looked towards the cupboard that held the glasses. Then he shrugged nonchalantly and drank from the carton. Since there wasn’t very much, he finished the whole thing. Good thing he’d already been to the grocery store this morning. Today, he had planned as a dry run. Depending on how things went, he would decide if he needed to move Liz down to the beach house. There she could be with his mother during the week, and if she felt well enough, maybe return home next weekend. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the clock on the stove. Cursing when he saw how late it was, he started back towards the bedroom so he could be dressed when Liz got here. He was passing the front door when he saw a sack on the floor, just a few feet inside the entryway, near the table he always put his briefcase on. The hospital logo blazoned on the side cried out whose it was. “Damn!” Glancing around, he realized the towel must have obstructed his view on his earlier trip to the kitchen. Or she had come in while he was in the kitchen. Why hadn’t he heard her? Surely, she wasn’t moving that quietly. Then he spied the bright 136
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pink on her white sofa. It was the same color the nurses in the emergency room had worn last night. Moving quickly, he crossed the hall and entered the living room. Liz was sound asleep on her sofa. She faced inward and he was afraid she’d turn and roll off. He gently shifted her so she turned onto her back. “Um.” The soft muffled cry wrenched at him. It hurt to know she was in pain, even asleep. At least, nothing permanent had been damaged and from now on he had every intention of their ironing out a number of issues. Gently, he brushed blonde strands back from her face. He saw the dried tears and felt his heart ache for her. Frustrations bubbled up that he couldn’t stop her tears and prevent things from hurting her. Why she was crying was something he needed answers to. For a moment he considered waking her to move into the bedroom where she’d be more comfortable, but then he reached for the soft throw on a nearby chair, spreading it over her lower body. Straightening, he made his way back down the hall. Dressing in casual clothes, he returned to the living room a few minutes later. He paused at the entrance to the living room. Marcus let his gaze roam across the small area, looking out the windows along the far wall. The silence felt like a palpable presence. No doubt he was overly sensitive since he’d gotten practically no sleep last night. He might as well have stayed at the hospital in a chair beside Liz. Maybe he’d made the wrong decision in leaving, angry with himself at letting his temper sway him. Second-guessing wasn’t his norm. He moved over to the chair opposite the sofa. Listening to the steady sound of Liz’s breathing reassured him. To some it might seem strange, but knowing she was here, with him and the steady sound of her breathing relaxed him. He sat in the chair. Slowly he looked around the room, taking in the furniture, the knickknacks scattered around, and the curtains. Pausing at the drapes, he squinted as he realized the color wasn’t tan like he’d thought. Instead it was a lot of different shades of brown, green and yellow colors, all woven together. Staring at the fabric, he couldn’t believe that he’d not noticed it before. Stupid, but it was also obvious now that he took the time to really look. Chagrined, he moved his gaze around the room once more. On the mantel above the fireplace were several statues. He’d never thought about it before, but if pushed he would have a hard time saying what the statues were like, but time and again he’d seen Liz dusting and rearranging them. Now as he looked from one to the next, he couldn’t believe that there was a theme to the type of porcelain. Each was a child, caught in the middle of some kind of misbehavior. What he believed made them truly different was that each child was dirty, in tattered clothing, obviously poor and sometimes injured, yet each was smiling in glee. Immediately, he knew that if he’d really thought about giving Liz something she’d like as a present, he should have given her a new statue like these she collected. One of those would have been the better choice instead of the bracelet. Unsettling was the
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thought of how little he really knew Liz. The last twenty-four hours had really opened his eyes. For four months, he’d let things between them drift along. Never before had he conducted a relationship this way. If he wanted more, he said so. And if the woman wanted more and he did not, he ended things quickly, and hopefully painlessly. He slouched down in the chair. Leaning back, he let his tiredness rise to the surface. With a heavy sigh, he relaxed slowly. He let his eyes close. Now was a good time to sleep since he’d had so little last night. Using the soporific semi-tuneful sound of her breathing, he meditated into a safe, relaxed state and then he drifted into a light sleep.
***** Liz awoke slowly. Confused, she wondered why she’d dozed off on her sofa. That didn’t make any sense— “Ouch!” she cried out as she tried to sit up quickly. All she managed was to lift up a few inches. “Damn!” Her memories all came crashing back into her conscious mind. She fell back onto the sofa, knowing full well that she was going to have to get up sooner or later. “Dying of thirst and starvation doesn’t fit in with my plans.” “I’m glad to hear it.” “Aaaiiiiyyyeeeee!” her scream came immediately. Marcus appeared at her side, lowering to kneel next to the sofa. “God, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” “You’re here!” The words came out before she thought. Her ability to guard her thoughts seemed to have slipped. “Yeah. I sent Tommy to get you. Didn’t he tell you I was cleaning up and getting some groceries in for when you got here?” Marcus smiled down at her. His hand came up and gently brushed her hair from her face. “I figured this would be better than ask him to stay with you while I went to the store once you got released. I got the banging out of the way so I wouldn’t add to any possible headache you might have.” Liz had her questions answered so succinctly that she felt foolish for ever having thought them. Her feelings welled up inside her at his thoughtfulness and tenderness in preparing the apartment for her coming home from the hospital. As her throat began to tighten, she quickly rubbed her fingers across her eyes. The wetness on her fingertips didn’t surprise her, but she pressed them against her cheeks, drying them. “Thank you. I only got this far.” She had to stop and swallow once, working to keep her emotions from welling up. “I was more tired than I thought. That doesn’t make much sense I know. All I did was fall down and then sleep most of the next twelve hours.” “Makes perfect sense. Your body received a shock and it is shutting down to recover and heal itself. If you take it easy, eat right and get lots of sleep, you should feel
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better in a week or so.” He shifted back and sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “Would you prefer to lie down on the bed? I will help you in there, if you want.” Liz shook her head, pressing against the sofa until she was sitting upright. She groaned as she shifted about while she found a comfortable spot. “I’d rather stay awake as much as I can. Hopefully, I’ll sleep through the night that way.” She clasped her hands in her lap as she met his gaze. “Do you need to get back to the office?” “No. This is Sunday, remember? I should imagine things are a little foggy for you. I’m also taking tomorrow off.” Liz knew he had only done this so he could be with her. “Are you sure you should? I know in offices it is usually tough to take time off work. You don’t have to and there is still the business trip on Tuesday—” “Of course I don’t have to, sweetheart. I want to do it. So long as I can make a decent nurse, we’ll stay up here. If I doubt my abilities to see to your needs, then we will head to the beach. My mother is very capable, plus she volunteered.” Liz couldn’t resist the half grin that curved Marcus’ mouth up on one side. Once again he was disarming her and making a bigger place in her heart. God? Is this fair? Without saying a word, she looked at him. There was no doubt that if she stayed here, alone with him, her love for him would only deepen. She could argue possibly spending too much time together would speed along the inevitable end of short affair. On the other hand, wasn’t that precisely what she needed…wanted to happen? “Maybe we should go to your parents, Marcus. You could get back to work and I wouldn’t be a burden.” Liz told him quietly. The look she saw move across his features only lasted a split second yet she was sure it indicated irritation. Her gut told her to stop wondering and worrying about it and just ask him. She opened her mouth to ask. His voice was calm as he replied. “Not at all, Liz, you aren’t a burden. We will do what works best for you. Just in case I’ve already packed us both a bag and have them in the car.” Liz paused, taking in his words. The needy, almost eager-to-please sense she received from him seemed completely at odds with the man she’d come to know these last few months. This new man was sensitive, and he made her uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to deal with him. And this scared her…even more so than the possibility the doctor was right about her missed cycles and his recommendation for the pregnancy test. Pregnant! No way. He was wrong. The test would be a waste of time and money. Or it could even be false positive. She’d heard about those lots of times. Besides, she wasn’t going to think about it, or at least she wouldn’t until she felt a little better. Then, as she had promised Dr. Carteris when he dismissed her, she would schedule an appointment with
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her regular doctor. In a week or two, she would be back to normal, and so should any tests he might do. Liz paused to cross her arms, belatedly remembering the wraps around her wrists. During the night, she had noticed some pain in them both, so this morning the doctor had each wrapped in stretch bandages. They knew there were no fractures because of the x-rays done in the emergency room. In a few days, they would no doubt be fine, the sprain or strain having healed. “Maybe we should go and see another doctor today, Liz. That guy seemed awfully young, and the emergency room was busy. He could have missed a broken bone.” Marcus leaned forward to grab a pillow and put it on the floor. “Put your feet on this. That will elevate them a little.” His thoughtfulness was overwhelming. Quickly, she sniffed to hold back her tears. She hated being this emotional. Hopefully in a day or so, she’d be back to normal. With a deep breath, she shook her head. “Thank you, Marcus. I don’t need to see another doctor right away. I will have to in about a week or so. He wanted me to follow up and make sure my head was okay, and I’ll have to get the stitches removed.” “How about I help you into the bedroom? In an hour or so, we can decide whether we stay here for the night. We’ll still have plenty of time to make the drive.” Liz felt very tired suddenly, almost as if she were a balloon and all of her air leaked out at once. Scooting to the front of the sofa, she started to stand. “Oh, my walking thing.” She gestured to where she’d abandoned the walker earlier. Marcus helped her stand and then he scooped her into his arms. “We can skip it this time.” Liz decided it was too much trouble and she didn’t have the energy to protest. Besides, she was breathless. And she loved the warm, snuggly feeling inside at his actions. In the bedroom, she let him place her beneath the covers. Gratefully she curled onto her side, so happy to be in her own bed, she grinned. Marcus squatted for a moment beside the bed, meeting her gaze. “Sleep if you feel like it. Don’t fight it. I’m going to catch up on email and I’ll come back in an hour.” He reached out to the bedside stand, lifted a china bell he’d placed there. Ringing it, he set it back down. “Use this to call me. I won’t have the television or radio on. I’m going back for your walker, but don’t get up without ringing. Promise?” Liz considered refusing out of sheer contrariness, but nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” Her eyes closed because it just too hard to keep them open another second. As she hovered between tired and sleep, the fragile hope inside her began to unfurl. Perhaps she could have a life with Marcus—loving, open and no-holds-barred. She probably wasn’t pregnant, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be happy.
*****
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Marcus glanced at his watch and saw nearly an hour had passed since he’d put Liz in bed. He was surprised that he’d been on the phone that long. He couldn’t remember that last time he’d talked to his parents for such an extended period. “Well, Mom, I should probably get going. I want to check on Liz.” “All right, Marcus.” Catherine cleared her throat before she took a deep breath. “I’ll just say that I think you should come here. It’s better for everyone.” “But Liz undoubtedly will be more comfortable around her own things. There is less chance of her bumping into things here.” Marcus was leaning towards his mother’s opinion, but still needed to argue for Liz’s potential point of view. “We’ll have on plenty of night lights. I’ll send your father to the store for more. I’ve already made up the bedroom here on the first floor. She won’t have to worry about traversing the stairs at first. When she is better, we’ll move her things upstairs.” “I’ll see what Liz wants to do, Mom. Yeah, I know,” he added quickly. “I will let her know what I think is best. Now I need to go. What?” He paused as he stood. “Food? Liz likes just about anything within the range of normal. I’ll bring the few perishables I got with me. And yes, I will let you know one way or the other. Okay, Mother. Bye.” Shaking his head ruefully, he set down the receiver. He’d have to put that conversation down to another confusing one with his mother. He wondered if Liz had similar talks with her parents. Turning towards the bedroom, he reminded himself to discuss with Liz calling her parents soon. Liz rolled over in the bed, groaning as her muscles ached in protest. The warmth of the bed was like a cocoon that snuggled her in comfy softness. She wiggled a little, pulling the covers up over her shoulders. Deliberately, she kept her eyelids closed. Keeping the world at bay for a little longer seemed like a really good idea right now. Something brushed against her eyelashes. Quickly, she lifted one hand to brush the stray lash or curl of her hair away from her face. She stopped as she met warm flesh, and her eyes popped open. He was staring, with a small smile curving his sexy mouth up on one side. In lying down, his hair had become slightly disheveled, falling onto his forehead. He looked alert, so she assumed he had not slept. Her hand lifted and her fingers lightly pushed his hair back. Marcus’ gaze met hers. “How do you feel? Do you need a pain pill? You did a lot of moaning while you were sleeping as you moved around, sweetheart. There’s no need for you to have pain, you know.” A rush of cozy warm filled her at his concerned tone and words. “I’ll take a pill when I get up,” she said slowly, wishing she could keep the feeling alive. “And that should probably be now.” She started to roll onto her back and couldn’t stop the groan that escaped. “Don’t move, honey. I’ll come around.”
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Two hours later, she and Marcus were in his car heading to his parents’ house at the beach. Stopping halfway, she hobbled into the public restroom, thanking God and the government for handicapped facilities. The second half of the trip she got in the backseat with the pillows and blankets he had tossed in, stretching out across the seat. “We’re here, Liz,” Marcus spoke softly as he came to a stop in front of the house. She had awakened a few minutes earlier, but continued to lie down. She was going to need help getting out of the car. As she struggled to sit up once again, the front door opened and she saw both of Marcus’ parents come towards the car. The driver’s side rear door opened and Bill Waters leaned in. “Let me help me you get of this sardine can, Liz. I told Marcus I could send in the limousine but he was in a hurry.” “Thank you, Mr. Waters. This was fine. I can stretch out the kinks. It’s very nice of you and your wife to allow me to stay here for a few days.” Liz smiled as she accepted his help. Her legs wobbled as she leaned on her walker for a few seconds. Catherine came to stand beside her. “I’m thrilled to have you here, dear. Lots of good food and rest and we’ll have you back to normal in no time at all.” Marcus set down the bags he had removed from the trunk. “Let me carry you inside, honey.” “No, I’ll walk in. I should stay up for a while at least.” Liz shook her head. “I don’t want to get in your way.” “You won’t, Liz. Let’s sit in the family room. You might want to sit on the deck, even. Now, Bill and I will help you inside,” Catherine stated. From her tone, Liz guessed that the men in Mrs. Waters’ world usually did what she said. Without further comment, she accompanied her host and hostess into their house. She was quite happy to sit on the sofa. Bill busied himself getting her ice water to sip on while Catherine went to the kitchen to make a light snack to tide them over until dinner. A few minutes later, she jumped when Marcus kissed the side of her neck. “I have all of your stuff settled in our room. As soon as you need to, I’ll help you upstairs.” Marcus came around and sat beside her. “Okay, and thank you,” Liz told him softly. She swallowed quickly, trying to fight back the need to cry. It didn’t make any sense that she was so tearful all of a sudden. The possibility that this new emotional state was due to the undiagnosed pregnancy upset her more than she wanted to admit. Of one thing she was sure…she could not be pregnant. When she was able to manage on her own, she would get a home pregnancy kit to test. If that were positive, then she would contact the doctor she saw normally. “Here you go, Liz,” Bill handed her a glass of ice water. “Thank you, Mr. Waters.” Liz sipped the cool liquid, feeling it soothe her parched throat. 142
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“I’ll have whatever you’re having, Dad,” Marcus murmured softly, beside her. Bill stopped a few feet from the sofa. “Call me Bill, please, Liz. As for you, pup—” “Don’t start up that nonsense now,” Catherine called from doorway. “Marcus, help with the tray. Bill, get the rest of us something to drink.” Liz smiled as both men snapped to do the other woman’s bidding. For a moment, she let herself enjoy the warmth and camaraderie she felt in the room. This would be a nice family to belong to. If only she truly were pregnant—
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Chapter Fifteen Liz quickly found her exterior bruises healing much faster than she could resolve her internal dilemma. Sometimes she questioned that she was malingering. The time with Catherine was so comforting and pleasant that she had no desire to go back home. Well, that was not entirely true. Marcus’ business trip had gone awry and he ended up staying nearly ten days. Catherine and she received almost nightly reports from Bill when he returned home for dinner. Since it was a longer drive, he only came to the shore every other night. Marcus called as often as he could from Japan, nearly every day. The time difference made it difficult for them both to be wide-awake. While she stared out at the water slowly rolling into the shore, she felt the tension in her stomach building. She was seated on a blanket and had been trying to capture the essence of the shoreline in a drawing. It didn’t seem to matter, though. No matter how she changed it or tried different times of the day, she still missed the necessary zing. Most of her work all lacked it, and finally she admitted it was Marcus—she missed him totally and without reservation. Each phone conversation had grown a little more intimate, when she didn’t have his parents in the room. She was determined to tell him everything—tonight when he came home. Luckily she didn’t have much longer to wait either. Saying goodbye to him ten days earlier had been especially difficult. Even though she knew the moment would come, she put it out of her head until it was time for him to leave. She recalled how he had stayed through Monday, as planned. But Tuesday still came. They had shared his normal suite of rooms as they had on her first visit and Marcus helped her up and down the stairs. With him leaving this morning with his father, she was moving in a room on the first floor. She was actually looking forward to it because she knew it would be very hard to sleep in this bed without him. She watched Marcus as he moved around the room, getting ready. Her heart ached to ask him to stay home even though she knew it was impossible. A multibillion dollar deal hinged on his negotiations with several different Japanese businesses. As he stood in front of the mirror selecting some cufflinks, Liz sat up in the bed. “If I felt better—or rather, if I hadn’t gotten hurt—could I go with you?” Her mouth closed with a slight pop. She was stunned to hear her voice expressing her thoughts out loud. Oh my God!
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Staying absolutely still, she watched as Marcus paused in his movements. She couldn’t tell if he was as shocked as she by the question. Rushing through her mind were all the news stories she’d ever seen about how Japanese businessmen conducted their meetings with lots of women around, modern pseudo-geishas. Following that was the knowledge wealthy Japanese men have mistresses. If she went, would those men see her in a parallel way? How would she be treated? How would Marcus introduce her? “If you were unscathed, Liz, I think it would be fantastic to have you come. I would be busy, but I think you would enjoy seeing the sights. There would be lots of time for you to draw and sketch.” He turned to look at her. Crossing the room, his shirt flapped open to reveal his slightly damp chest. Sitting on the bed, he faced her. “Next time I go, you will come with me. We’ll start work on making sure everything is ready in advance.” He leaned forward and lightly kissed her lips. Liz smiled. His every touch was gentle and concerned about hurting her. “I don’t hurt on my mouth,” she reminded him. Marcus grinned as he kissed her again, this time more passionately. He pressed her back into the bed. Liz stifled the groan of pain and actually relished the feeling to hold onto for later. Caressing the back of his head, she felt his mouth moving down her neck and across her chest. “I think I would enjoy traveling.” Marcus tenderly cupped her breast as he circled her nipple with his kisses and then sucked deeply at her soft flesh. She could feel the tightening as he worried the bud with his tongue. Moaning, she restlessly moved her legs, feeling the need between her thighs growing with each passing second. Marcus slipped his hand between her thighs and cupped her mound. His touch was gentle but purposeful. He used her wetness to ease within her swelling lips. Easily, he wiggled his finger onto her clit, and over and over his finger masterfully brought her to climax. Her hips thrashed and jerked madly. “Oh my God!” “Let it go, my sweet darling. Don’t hold back. Let me hear your passionate release. Come for me, baby!” His words were the crowning touch. Liz came again as he restarted the playful clit action. Eventually she shifted and groaned in pain. Marcus pulled away reluctantly. “Well, that was amazingly sweet.” She looked up at him, surprised at his comment. “But you haven’t—” Leaning over, he kissed her mouth. “I know, darling, and it’s okay.” He walked into the bathroom and she heard the water running. When he came out a minute later, his shirt was buttoned. “Now I need to hurry. Dad will wait for me but he won’t be happy about it.”
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“Not your dad.” Liz shook her head. “You’ve only met the nice, affable guy so far. You’ll meet the other guy once I’m out of the way.” Marcus stood in front of the mirror, combing his hair, adding the cufflinks and finally turning away to finish dressing. Liz watched him, realizing for the first time in a long while just how good-looking he was. “You look very handsome,” she whispered. He paused and then turned to smile over his shoulder. “Why thank you, sweetheart. You are beautiful, always.” She shook her head. “Not for the last few days. God only knows what my hair is going to end up like. Your mother is making me a hair appointment for the day I get the stitches removed. My body looks like a used paint palette. I just wish I could come with you.” “I do too, Liz.” He finished tying his tie and turned to look at her. “As soon as I get home, we’ll move to your place again and everything can get return to normal. How does that sound?” Liz felt her heart catch. She wanted to go home with him and she truly needed to get back to normal. “Good,” she said through her closed throat. With his jacket on, he was finally ready. There was no more need to delay. HONK! HONK! “There’s Dad, honey.” He walked over to the bed. Liz scrambled up to a sitting position, lifting her face to kiss him. It hurt to lift her arms, but she still did it, hugging him tightly. Against his ear, she mouthed the words, “I love you.” She wished desperately she were brave enough to say the words out loud. Yet, she also knew that right now, with him literally walking out the door would not be the right time either. She blinked her eyes quickly to hold back her tears at the pent-up emotions, all of which were making her tense, nervous and probably a little crazy. Marcus released her slowly. “I’ll push to come back early.” Nodding, she told him, “Please do, just don’t overwork yourself. I want you back in tiptop shape.” Marcus laughed and then left. Liz wished she had her wristwatch on. Out here, with the ocean lapping at the sand, it was easy to lose track of the time. Marcus would be home soon and she could hardly wait. Each time they spoke on the phone, he told her he missed her, and was anxious to get home, to her. Their calls were usually quite circumspect since he called at dinnertime. His father always talked to him as well, getting a progress report, although the decision-making power rested solely with Marcus. He did manage one call late and on the private line in his bedroom.
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Liz hobbled upstairs after everyone was asleep, hoping he would be able to call as he planned. He had sent her an email on his home computer, telling her how to access it. The details for the call were in the letter. She was curled up on his bed, wearing her short pajamas. After ten minutes of flipping through a magazine as she waited, she climbed under the covers. The warmth lulled her to sleep and she didn’t get the receiver picked up until the third ring. “Marcus?” she mumbled sleepily. “Yeah, sleepy head. I don’t need to ask if you were sleeping, huh?” Her mouth opened so widely on a yawn, she couldn't speak for a moment. “Seeing that it’s dark out, I can’t think of any other reason to shut my eyes.” “You have a smart mouth, Ms. Smith,” Marcus told her calmly. Liz chuckled, yawning. “Of course not,” she whispered, but then paused. “Scoot over, fellas.” “Fellas?” “Yeah. The U.S. team for volleyball was playing through earlier today, and so I offered them a place to sleep when I thought they looked a little tired. It wouldn't be too bad except for the sand they track in wearing those tiny swim trunks.” Marcus growled low in his throat before he laughed loudly. Liz went all warm inside at the rumbling sound of his voice. She rolled over onto her back, the receiver pressed to her ear. “It’s surprising how much room such little fellas can really take up.” “Well, all I can say is that it’s a good thing they are couple hundred years old.” Marcus joked back. “I’m surprised at how well they adjusted to those little blue pills.” Liz grinned, more than a little taken aback at her ability to jest after midnight. “But they’ll be moved out by the time you get back.” She heard Marcus’ loud sigh. “My sweet lady, you are playing with fire. I miss you so much.” His voice cracked on the last word. “What about all those Japanese business dinners and meetings that I’ve read about and seen on television? There are usually lots of pretty girls around.” Liz hated the insecurity that came out with that statement. “I am blind to all women but you. I am a little crazy at the moment.” “That’s not good for business. Your dad is really counting on you. I mean he is proud of you, Marcus. Several times he has said that he doesn’t want you to feel pressure from him.” “I know, Liz. I know how he feels. What I mean is that I desire you…I want to be with you, sweetheart.” Marcus groaned softly.
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Liz knew instinctively that it wasn’t easy for him to admit this. She felt the same way. Her body was so horny for him…how she hated that word! Still, it described her feelings exactly. “Me too, Marcus, I wish you were here.” She paused as she realized that she needed to be more specific so he knew these words meant so much more than she was just missing him. Taking a deep breath, she rushed into speech. “I’m not very good at this, Marcus. I need to feel you beside me, on the bed…I I—” she verbally stumbled. “Inside me. I want you inside me!” “God! Honey! You are making this phone call even more difficult,” Marcus said a few seconds later. “I’m sorry. I want to help, not hurt, Marcus. I thought you called late so we could talk a little…you know—” “Phone sex?” Marcus questioned. Liz heard the amusement in his tone. His chuckling was undoubtedly due to her embarrassment at saying the words. Smiling herself, she pitched her voice low. “Yes, something where I say ‘how hard you are’ and perhaps like ‘fill me up, big boy’.” Marcus groaned again, louder. “Elizabeth, you are a temptress. I was remembering the time in the car, the first night we met. Do you recall—” “Yes!” Liz interrupted him, sighing heavily. “I never told you about that—” “Tell me what, darling.” She closed her eyes. Recounting this would be easier without looking around. Maybe it was silly, but admitting to this aloud, was something she had never done and yet here she was ready to tell him! “The whole next day…I don’t remember how long it lasted, but every time I closed my eyes, and especially if I sat, my body didn’t belong to me, or that’s how it felt. All I had to do was close my eyes, think about you and how it had all been between us, and I came.” Her words trailed off into the softest of whispers. Swallowing hard, she felt her body reliving it still again. What did they call that—cell memory? Nervously, she realized that Marcus hadn’t replied yet. The receiver suddenly seemed ominously silent. Oh God! Had she revealed too much? “Elizabeth?” Marcus asked about a minute later. “Yes, Marcus, I’m here.” “That is the most sensual and romantic thing a woman has ever told me. If only I didn’t have that last meeting, I’d book the soonest flight out of here and back to you.” Liz rushed to explain. “I thought something was wrong with me at first. I felt like I was quicksilver and thinking about you made me feel more alive, more sexual—” She broke off abruptly. “I didn’t want to tell you all this over the phone. I’ve needed to tell you. I just find it hard to talk about these things.”
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“I understand, my love. Many times I’ve wanted to lay it on the line—I love you, Elizabeth. I’ve never felt like this. My marriage sucked if only in its lack of emotion. With you, my sweet Liz, I’m alive as I’ve never been before. Damn it all! I want to hold you in my arms.” Liz was stunned at his confession. He loved her!!! All she had to do was tell him— “Sweetheart, we need to wait before we say any more. I want to look at you when we next speak. Promise me you’ll go straight to sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. Okay? I’ll hold you in my arms and we’ll talk then.” Liz took a deep breath. She would do what he wanted. “Yes, I’ll wait. I’ll be here. I’m going to sleep in your bed tonight.” “Aw, make it harder for me, honey!” “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. This is the sweet kind of pain. Good night, my beautiful Elizabeth. I’ll see you tomorrow. Night night.” Liz echoed his words, whispering them softly before she hung up the receiver. Nestling under the covers, she thought she’d be awake for some time. The peace she felt overcame the chaotic emotions and thoughts and she sighed heavily and fell asleep. Glancing at her watch, she smiled. Not too much longer before he was home. The day had been a busy one for Catherine and her. In the morning, she had helped Catherine plan dinner. She learned the men were due home at approximately five o’clock. Marcus would be going from the airport to the office. Bill had told her they would be here early since Marcus would no doubt be tired and have a good case of jet lag. As quickly as they could finish whatever needed to be done before the close of business, the two of them would travel here together. Catherine spent some time in the kitchen with her cook and Liz happily polished the silver for the meal. She was shown the china Catherine had received as a wedding present and rarely used. When Catherine mentioned it had been years since the silverware had been used, Liz had eagerly volunteered to shine it up. That was all the encouragement Catherine needed and announced they would use it then. In the afternoon Liz had a doctor’s appointment to get the stitches removed. Afterwards, Catherine and she had hair salon visits scheduled. Hopefully the stylist could make her presentable to appear in public again. The appointment with Catherine’s regular doctor went fairly well. He reviewed the emergency room and hospital records which were copied for her to bring with her. “I think a repeat MRI or CT scan should be done in the next couple of weeks. I take it that you don’t live here?” Dr. Lowe asked after a few moments of quiet reading. “No, doctor, I am staying with friends. Catherine and Bill Waters.” 149
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“Oh, sure. Well, let me tell you my concern.” Liz thought she saw something in his face. “What’s wrong,” she asked him quickly. “Concussions get ignored most of the time, and for ninety-nine percent of all head injuries that is okay. Dr. Carteris noted the amount of time you were unconscious. Good standards of care recommend rest and the other instructions you received. And while you don’t have any of the symptoms of the more severe traumatic brain injury, Dr. Carteris and I both concurred a second test would be necessary. I’m not sure if you want to follow up with your regular doctor, or here.” “It’s getting confusing, isn’t it? And I guess confusion isn’t good with a concussion, right?” Dr. Lowe laughed. “Precisely. I’d be happy to schedule the test and follow up through my office. Just let me know which you prefer.” He paused, leaning back in his chair. “Dr. Carteris has noted in here about your missed periods. Have you had a chance to do a home pregnancy test?” Liz shook her head. “I haven’t been able to go out by myself, and I didn’t feel right asking someone else to buy it for me.” “Ah, I see. We can run a blood test today. It usually takes a few hours for the results to come back, so you could call near the end of the day if you like.” The roaring in her ears could have been the ocean waves it seemed so loud suddenly. A moment later, she nodded. “Okay, let’s do that, just to be sure.” Feeling nervous and unsure with the possibility staring her in the face, she cleared her throat. “If that’s negative—” her voice trailed away as she was unable to finish the question. Dr. Lowe smiled. “Then I would recommend further testing since you haven’t had a period in an unknown amount of time.” “I was always a little off-schedule, but I think it’s several months now.” “I would suggest an ultrasound before the scan, or an appointment with a gynecologist.” “All right, and I’ll call for the results.” “Excellent, Ms. Smith.” Dr. Lowe proceeded with his exam, finishing with the removal of her stitches. Finally, she was ready to leave. She was given several handouts to read and told to avoid any activity that involved the risk of hitting her head. Included was a note giving directions on calling back for test results. Everyone was very nice on her way out, but she still felt very self-conscious about the way she looked. At the salon, she sat nervously in the chair while Catherine, her stylist and the woman who was working on Liz all stood looking at the back of her head. From the looks on their faces reflected in the mirror, she was not filled with confidence. “Is it beyond help?” she asked finally.
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Carol, her stylist, shook her head. “Not at all, but to make you look less like a warsurvivor, we need to go short.” Catherine reached out and lightly picked up one of the long strands still hanging at the side of her face. “Pinning it into position won’t do the job long-term.” “I don’t have the patience for that.” Liz knew herself too well. “Don’t tell me you are a wash-and-go girl?” Carol asked, combing one side of the long hair with her comb. “Do you use styling products and tools?” Liz shrugged. “I have gel and hairspray, as well as a blow dryer and curling iron. I just never use them.” At the look of horror on both stylists’ faces, she flushed feeling discomfited by the shocked expressions on the stylists’ faces. “It just isn’t me. I like the feeling of smooth hair, without all the junk on it.” Her stylist laughed. “I understand. My sister is just like you. She says she can’t turn the brush and hold the blower at the same time. Now let’s start with a gentle shampoo and lots of conditioner.” Liz nodded, giving herself over into the capable hands of a professional. She hoped her deep breathing would help stay her fears. She couldn’t remember the last time her hair had been above her shoulders. How she was going to manage— Get real, Liz! It’s just hair. Now, hours later, she waited for Marcus. Catherine had chased her outside shortly after she’d come downstairs wearing the new dress she’d purchased after finishing at the salon. Finally, unable to focus on drawing or reading the book she’d borrowed from Bill’s library and home office, she decided to stroll down the beach a short distance. The exercise would be good for her ankle.
***** Marcus parked his car out front of the house. He’d chosen to drive his own car instead of riding with his dad in the limousine. Something told him that Liz could be returning home this Sunday. Still, he was reluctant to get up his hopes too much. Don’t get ahead of himself and first things first. He needed to find out exactly what the doctor had told her. She might need a little longer to recover. As he walked into the house, he removed his suit jacket. He was sure his mother would have some sort of dinner arranged for his first evening home. All he wanted was to be alone with Liz. Sure he wanted to see his mother, but he needed to hold Liz in his arms and tell her again that he loved her. More than anything he needed to watch her face as he told her again.
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Moving farther into the house, he was surprised to find the dining room table clear of any dishes. He was sure his mother had undoubtedly planned a fancy dinner in here. She might even have gone so far as to get the dishes she guarded like they were gold. He stopped though when he saw a piece of paper on the table. Picking it up, he started reading. Hello, my darling son. Welcome home! You have been sorely missed, by everyone. Your father and I are going out to dinner and quite possibly a late movie. I’ve arranged your dinner with Liz on your balcony. She is outside, walking on the beach. Have a good time. Love, Mother. Marcus smiled. His mother was ever the planner, even matchmaker at times. Of course, he wasn’t going to complain. A little romance was just what he needed to talk Liz into marrying him. He’d reached that momentous decision at some point during the long plane ride home. Reading on, he saw a postscript. P.S. She got a haircut. Love it, no matter what! Returning the paper to the table, he recalled how pretty Liz’s blonde hair had been. And soft! Whenever he thought about her hair, he always recalled how it felt like warm silk. Still, it was only hair. Long or short, it didn’t change who she was. He turned to walk onto the deck. Outside, he scanned the beachfront as he rolled up his shirtsleeves. Preferring to spot her first, he sat on the edge of the deck and removed his shoes and socks. Rolling up his pants trousers a few inches, he looked once more. This time, he saw a woman walking towards the house. She was wearing a dress in shades of blue and green. The material reminded him of the ocean at Waikiki Beach in Honolulu. He couldn’t tell much more because the dress was pressed to her body by the breeze. From this distance, he could see short strands of bright gold hair blowing in the breeze. His cool, sleek lady had been transformed into a water sprite. He grinned, coming to his feet. Jumping down to the sand, he jogged the short distance towards her. Liz saw Marcus as he came towards her. Without thought, she waved at him. Selfconsciously she realized what she was doing and stopped. Part of her wanted to rush towards him and squeeze him so tightly she’d never forget what he felt like pressed against her. The other cautioned her that perhaps she’d too much into their conversation last night. Maybe he’d been drinking sake, or some such thing. She was fearful of taking this next step and risking everything she’d believed in for so long. The bottom line—what she came to each time was the fact that she trusted Marcus. She wasn’t prepared for Marcus picking her up and swinging her around. “Oh my God! Marcus!” She clung to his shoulders, laughing while she screamed. Instantly he stopped, setting her down. “Oh shit, honey! I shouldn’t have done that. Did I hurt you at all? Hell!” “No, no. I feel good, really. The doctor told me I was fine. I only have a few restrictions, but I will tell you about that stuff later. I am so glad you are home,” Liz 152
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reassured him quickly. She looked, trying to take in all of him with one glance. “I missed you.” “Oh God, sweetheart, I missed you too.” He held her close, both his arms wrapped around her. “I am very happy to hear he said you were okay. I came up in my car. I wasn’t sure if you would feel ready to come back yet,” Marcus asked. Liz wished she could read something in his eyes. She couldn’t. “I think your mother is ready to kick me out.” Marcus turned them back towards the house, his arm lightly around her shoulders. “Never. She loves having you here. Every time I spoke to Dad at work he told me how much happier she is with you here. I think she is ready to disown me and adopt you.” “I doubt that.” Liz shook her head. The rub of the short hair against Marcus arm reminded her of how different she must look. “You didn’t say anything about my hair.” Marcus stopped abruptly, pulling her up short beside him. “I noticed from the deck. I just forgot when I got close because you always foul up my thinking. Soon as I get around you, the strangest thing happens.” “What’s that?” she asked coyly, looking up from under her eyelashes. She batted them a few times, even though she didn’t have any mascara on to lengthen and darken her lashes. Marcus held her gaze as he replied, “All the blood seems to rush from my brain.” Liz stared back for a moment or two. As his meaning sank in, she could feel a flush heat her cheeks. Her blood was rushing through her. Had she heard him say that she turned him on? Smiling, she teased him. “Maybe that is only due to abstinence.” “That has added to the congestion problem, no doubt.” He kissed her mouth. “My thoughts were that my cool lady had been replaced by a water pixie.” His hand pushed through the soft blonde ruffles of hair from her forehead on back. “Before the haircut, you were a long, cool drink of distilled water.” “Hmm, interesting analogy. And now?” Liz wondered where he was going with this. She was curious, but what really mattered was the nonchalant way he accepted her. No longer did she feel as if something was hidden or unspoken between them. He had not repeated his statement from last night, but she didn’t care. “Ah, yes. You have been like sparkling water, lemon twist and one of those paper parasols they put in drinks. Oh, you were poured in a clear, bright lead crystal glass.” Liz pushed back from Marcus. She grinned up at him. “Maybe I should be insulted but I’m not. So do you like my hair? I didn’t really have a lot of options without looking like I was covering something up or trying to grow out the haircut from hell.” Marcus pulled her close, hugging her. “I think your hair looks sexy. I want to see you naked and kiss your totally bare neck. I can’t wait to wash your hair in the shower and feels those short little hairs as I rub over them. You are gorgeous, any way you do it.”
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Liz took a deep breath. Now or never! “I love you, Marcus.” She felt the stillness come over Marcus. His gaze never faltered from hers. Not once did he look away. “I know you do. I love you. I will never take you or your love for granted. From now on, my love, I’m stuck on you like gum on your shoe, darling.” Liz felt her breath catch in her chest. “The analogy is not the most romantic, but it sounds like something I would say. Thank you.” Marcus turned her towards the house. “Let’s go up to the room. Mother has dinner set up for us—” He stopped a few feet from the deck. “Wait a second. Why are you thanking me?” “For being so patient with me. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with or be around.” “Let me grab my shoes.” He picked up his footwear and her sandals. “We can go up the stairs that lead directly to my entrance. Come on.” At the double doors leading onto the deck outside Marcus’ rooms was a small table, complete with covered dishes, warming plate and candles. The ice bucket held champagne. Marcus immediately started removing the plate covers. Liz stood, watching him for a moment. She knew what she had to do first, though. Turning, she crossed to the phone. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. It only took a few seconds to dial the number of the doctor’s office. As she spoke into the receiver, she was aware of Marcus stopping. “Yes, I’m calling for lab results.” Liz repeated her name, giving them the identification number. “Tested twice, okay. Thank you. Bye.” Liz found it almost impossible to hang up the phone. How could you mourn something you thought would never happen and didn’t believe to be true now? So why was she sad the test was negative? There was no pregnancy, no baby. Slowly, she returned the phone handle to the base. She closed her eyes, trying to prepare herself to face Marcus. Now she needed to tell him the rest of the news and her past. Warmth enfolded her, all along her back, bottom and thighs. Strong arms encircled her upper body, hugging her and pulling her back to rest against him. Clearing her throat, she spoke softly, “I have something I need to tell you, Marcus, and I don’t know if we should eat first or not—” Her voice cracked and a sob broke free. Her whole body shuddered. Hope?
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Dear God, had she really been so foolish to let herself dream for a moment? She wanted to have it all, with Marcus. For a brief time, she had thought it possible. She loved him so much. Marcus hugged her gently. “I love you, Liz. I want you, I want to marry you. God! I had hoped to do this more romantically, but there it is. I want to marry you. I’ll gladly be Mr. Elizabeth Smith if need be.” Liz laughed and cried at the same time. She had not expected this! She chuckled, sniffed and then sobbed again. She started to turn, Marcus held her firm. “Not yet, darling. Let me cover the food again,” he said as he walked back to the table. She followed him, sitting because she felt like her legs wouldn’t hold her upright one more minute. “Please sit down, Marcus, and let me tell you this while I can.” Marcus stopped for a moment and then finished covering their food. Pulling out his chair, he sat. “Okay, Liz.” “When I was sixteen, I got pregnant. I was so scared I didn’t tell anyone.” She paused, remembering the fear and shame she’d felt. “I didn’t know any better. Anyway, it was a tubal pregnancy. The egg grows in the Fallopian tube—” “I’ve heard of it. Sorry, honey. Go on.” She took a deep breath, shuddering on exhalation. “I waited too long, the doctor said. The baby grew and my tube ruptured. I bled quite a bit, and complications followed. There was an infection…the doctors told me my other tube was so scarred it was unlikely I’d ever conceive. And I only have one ovary, having lost the other one with the rupture.” Marcus reached out and covered one of her hands, squeezing it lightly. “My poor darling.” He met her gaze before he went on. “I love you. I very much want to marry you. Will you?” Liz looked up into Marcus’ face. “There’s something else. In the emergency room, the doctor told me I was probably pregnant. I told him he was wrong. Today, I had the doctor recheck, and it was negative.” Marcus held her gaze. “I think we need to get you into a fertility specialist or a damned good obstetrician as soon as possible. The other thing is we should have a serious talk about kids. I like kids, but I doubted I’d ever remarry.” “And I figured since I couldn’t have children, well, I do love my career. Before you came into my life, Marcus, I was settled. I was ready to live my life alone. But I love kids, too. My family had an unspoken tradition where pretty much all the women marry young and produce lots of babies. At sixteen, I knew I wanted to follow my talent, and when I lost the ability to be a baby-maker like the other women, I needed to refocus. My aunt here was my savior, in more ways than one.”
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“Let’s eat, darling. You need to keep up your strength and I’m hungry.” He released her hand. “Drink some water, please.” Gesturing to the covered water pitcher, he removed the plate covers. “This looks good.” “I hope I didn’t ruin it by making us wait. I’m used to eating many of my meals half cold anyway.” “I’ve noticed that tendency of yours, my sweet. Our cook’s food tastes good at every temperature.” “I know. I think I’ve put on a few pounds from her excellent cooking. I doubt I’ve missed a single meal since I got here.” Marcus grinned as he poured himself a glass of wine. Taking a sip, he nodded and then offered her some. For a moment, Liz considered holding off drinking. Her logical side told her to go ahead and imbibe. The test was negative. She shook her head. “No thank you, Marcus. I’ll wait. Holding back on drinking was on my instructions handout from the doctor today. I must have conked my head harder than I thought. Both the doctor today and Dr. Carteris recommended I have another head test.” “That proves your head isn’t as hard as marble, huh?” Marcus teased her, filling another glassful of water from the silver pitcher. “I’ll have one drink or the jet lag will cause me to embarrass myself later. The water will offset any dehydration from the long flight hopefully.” Liz smiled, thinking about “later” with Marcus as well. She started eating quite happily. Soon she asked him about his trip and they both relaxed with the less demanding conversation. When they finished, both sat quietly for a few seconds. Marcus then reached across the table for her hand again. “I’m still waiting for an answer.” “Answer?” she asked and then realized what he meant. “I love you. Yes, I will marry you.” “And we’ll go visit your parents together in a few weeks,” he asked quickly. Liz pulled back surprised he wanted to go there. Nodding, she agreed. “Yes, we’ll go visit my home. I’ll show all my sordid past.” “Good. I like raunchy.” Marcus stood, pulling her chair out for her to stand. Without a word, he wheeled their dinner table to a far corner. “I didn’t say raunchy. I was sixteen, and I only had sex once. Everyone told me you couldn’t get pregnant the first time.” Liz moved over to the bed. “Once I was healthy enough, like I said earlier, I came out here to live with a great-aunt and I started art school early as soon as I got my GED.” “I’m surprised your parents let you leave, after everything you’d been through.” Marcus sat beside her.
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“It wasn’t that easy. Needless to say, we all managed to survive. You know, your mother has been fantastic to me, Marcus. I can’t believe all the trouble she has gone to setting up this dinner! She told me we were eating in the dining room and supposedly I talked her into using her special china. Then I volunteered to polish the silverware.” Marcus laughed so hard he fell back onto the bed. “She hates to polish silver. You’ll be her favorite from now on.” He reached out and tugged her down beside him. “Now, you have definitely promised to marry me, correct?” “Yes. I will marry you, Marcus Waters. I love you.” She took a deep breath. “That feels so wonderful—I love you, I love you, I love you!” Kissing her, Marcus stopped her litany. When he released her mouth, he repeated her words. “I love you, also. I can’t wait until we can go to bed as Mr. and Mrs. Waters.” “That sounds good to me. I’m rather tired now.” She paused and yawned widely. “Ah, I am tired as well. Although I was wondering if you were interested in dessert.” Liz frowned. “I didn’t see any.” “Yeah. I’m thinking about raiding the kitchen for some chocolate sauce and whipped cream.” She had to laugh. “Aren’t you forgetting something to put it on?” Marcus grinned wickedly, winking slowly. “I know exactly where I’m going to put it…the first time.” His gaze was focused on her mouth. “The second place,” he paused and his gaze lowered. “The next two places anyway.” Liz could feel her heartbeat race as her respirations sped up. “And the third?” she asked, her breathing coming unsteadily. Marcus let his gaze drop for a second before he glanced back up to snag her gaze again. “Heaven, my love. My own sweet, sweet heaven.” The End
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About the Author Mlyn began her writing career after falling out of her previous one, although she has been writing for most of her life. In the sixth grade, she had a short story published in the local Catholic newspaper. During high school, her term papers were always longer than anyone else’s. She cut her teeth on the romance novels her mother purchased and handed down to her. From there, she started writing her own stories in notebooks stuffed into nightstand drawers. During the years she worked as a nurse, she often helped write updates for manuals, procedures and a booklet given to pediatric patients’ parents. Her rebirth into writing began when she lost her job in 2001 and filed for disability. Writing is limited by her health issues, but she doesn’t want to stop because she enjoys it too much! Her website: http://smoothtales.com/ Email:
[email protected] Mlyn welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.
Also by Mlyn Hurn Blood Dreams Blood Dreams 2: Hunter’s Legacy Blood Dreams 3: Endless Night Burning Desires Christmas In Virginia Crown Jewels anthology Elemental Desires anthology Ellora’s Cavemen: Tales From the Temple IV anthology Enter the Dragon anthology Family and Promises Family Secrets High Seas Desire His Dance Lessons Medieval Mischief Passionate Hearts anthology Rebel Slave Submissive Passion The Cattleman Things That Go Bump In The Night 3 anthology Voyage To Submission
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