By DocPaul
Chapter
Four: Desensitizing…
“Hey,
roomie!”
Michael
winced as Alex entered the room with three women attached to his arms, not one
of them looked older than twenty, if they weren’t twelve masquerading as
adults. They had it. Attitude. That puffed up importance that only the very
young, insanely chic have, sure that they were the epitome of culture. They saw
him and giggled. Michael’s eyebrow went up as one expanded her chest in his
direction.
Yeah,
he was desperate. Not that desperate.
“Technically,
Alex, we’re no longer roommates. College has been over for years.”
“So
true. Plus you would make my home look like a retirement community. Loosen up,
G.”
“Lose
the spandex and bottle jobs, and we can talk.”
Alex
sat down, not inviting his entourage. “Girls, why don’t you go to the
poolside, show some skin, and give the old geezers coronaries. Order anything
you want. Tell them to put it on my tab.”
“What
is with the jailbait, Alex?” Michael asked as the underage giggling gaggle of
geese went outside to terrorize the posh country club patrons.
Alex
smiled at the girls and waved. “Not mine. Babysitting.” Michael snorted at
that. “Truly! Pearl Jam is in town, and they’re some groupies that were
found hanging onto the group. The manager asked me if I would give them
something to do, or take them away for a while so the group could actually get
ready for the concert tonight.”
“Great.
Last time this happened, how long did it take you to kick them to the curb when
the group left, leaving you their flies?”
“Two
months.” Alex waved for a waiter. “Not going to happen this time. I’ve got
it under control. Didn’t take them by my home, and told them I work for a
different station. They even call me Lexie. Told them it was Russian.”
Michael
shook his head. “You are a dog. And you think I have troubles with women?”
Looking at the waiter, he quickly ordered his drink and waited for Alex to spit
out what he wanted.
“You
do have trouble with women,” said Alex. “Can you have the bar send
milkshakes to the three young women outside beside the pool? He’ll know who
they are. Extra thick. They look like they could use the calcium.”
“Aww..,
such a good father, Alex.”
Alex
laughed. “Bite me, G.”
Michael
looked at his watch. “I have a meeting…”
“You
kicking me to the side, brother?”
“I
wish. What? We’re twenty-seven, and I still can’t shake you.” Michael took
the time to glance through his papers again. “I have a meeting with Jim.”
“Mommy
coming too?”
“Serena?
Doubt it. I’m sure she’s having something waxed or peeled.”
“Great,
just the boys.” Alex leaned across the table. “Sooooo?” Michael ignored
him. “Damn, Michael. I’ve been leaving you messages for three days.”
“Really?”
Michael feigned disinterest. He had deleted every single one of them with
relish.
“Don’t!”
Alex held up a hand. “Give me the skinny.” Michael raised a brow, appearing
to be unconcerned and unaware what Alex was talking about. “Dammit, Michael!
The blonde beauty you were seen sucking down like she was a cold beer at the
Kinsey charity drive! Heard you walked out with your shirt wide open. Gave some
society matrons heart palpitations.”
“Alex,
I can’t…scratch that...I won’t
talk about this.”
Alex
sat back, his eyes sharpening to the flood of color under Michael’s skin.
Interesting. Animation of an inanimate object. “What is this?”
Michael
swore at Alex, and seemed relieved to see Jim Valenti, his stepfather finally
coming towards them. Like he even knew the answer to that himself. He had
pondered it every free moment over the last three days, and a few moments he
hadn’t had free. That Maria girl was inserting herself in his thoughts, and it
was…disturbing.
“Hello,
Alex. I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Jim said as he squeezed
Michael’s shoulder. “How are you, son?”
“Good,
Jim. Alex was just leaving.”
“I
was?” Alex sat back looking ready to settle in and continue his questioning.
“Jim, how is Serena?”
“She’s
good. I left her in the sports shop. She’s trying to convince them into
carrying a different color of tennis ball. She’ll be joining us soon.”
Michael
sat up at that. “She’s joining us? I thought you wanted to talk business.”
“Family
business. Your mother never gets to see you. Now we’ll have a nice lunch.”
Jim sat down and picked up the menu. “I got the quarter report on Valenti’s,
Michael. You don’t have to keep me informed.” Michael shrugged. He kept Jim
on as a stock owner. Not enough shares to control interest, but enough to
provide Jim and his mother a good monthly dividend to supplement their
retirement income and other investments. “What’s the news on the Maps
project?”
Michael
scowled at Alex, who refused to take a hint and scram. “Nothing yet. It’s
tied up in the courts. The Neighborhood Coalition is causing more problems in
the zoning and they’ve managed to have six more buildings declared historical
landmarks.”
“That
puts a damper in the project.”
Michael
shrugged. “They’ve been tying it up for three years now. Three years ago it
was on the verge of coming about. Lucky for us, it was drawn out for three
years. Valenti’s wasn’t able to compete for that size of a contract three
years ago. Our manpower, material contracts, and assets couldn’t have handled
the cost. It’s a different story today.”
“When
does bidding begin?”
“Tentatively
in three weeks. It was supposed to be two weeks ago, but the Coalition came in
and blocked it again. They’re running out of legal avenues to block the
project though. It’s been a long fight.”
Alex
rubbed his hands together when his food showed up. Thanking the server, he
grabbed his fork and dug in with glee. Eating and talking at the same time, he
used his fork as a weapon, and he stabbed at the air making his point.
“What
does this Coalition want anyway? I thought they would welcome the chance to have
their area renovated and updated. It would increase their real estate and the
business flow to the area.”
Michael
motioned to a server to refill his iced tea. “It would, but they’re
protesting the plans that the Committee initially designed. I have to agree with
them. It pulls down old buildings, redirects traffic, turns many streets into
one-ways, and when you add in the open potential for huge conglomerates like
Pottery Barn to move into the region, that area will lose the very charm that
makes it attractive to developers.”
“I
love the artist shops. They open straight onto the street. You can walk in and
watch them work, and they take private commissions. I had a set of Christmas
ornaments made for my mom last Christmas. They were incredible!” Alex said as
he dug out all the artichokes from his pasta, pushing the chicken to the side.
“It’s
not just the specialty shops, but the feel of old world
Jim
frowned. “Did you suggest this plan to the Commission?”
Michael
shrugged. “They already have their plan in place. They’re thinking of high
price restaurants, Barnes and Noble type stores, and high range business
options. They’re losing the charm of the area. I think once the bidding comes
around, I can nab an open seat on the bidding, get narrowed to the top bidders,
then I’ll submit my plan.”
“You’re
taking a chance, son.”
“I
know. Thing is that their current plan won’t work. The area has had a
turnaround in the last three years. Many of those properties that needed to come
down have been added to the historical register, courtesy of the Coalition, or
they were bought by private firms. I’ve been trying to find the owners, but
their buying company is very discreet, and it represents a small group or an
individual.”
“I
don’t understand…” Alex frowned at the movement of people outside along
the pool.”
Jim
noticed his wife entering the dining room and smiled at her. It would take a few
moments before she made it to them. Serena would stop to talk to everyone she
knew along the way. “The thing is, Alex, if the City wants to develop the
area, they’ll need to buy the buildings to either tear them down or develop
them. Well, they’re owned, and the owner is refusing to sell. The Commission
tried to block their use by changing the existing zoning of the area, but this
Coalition has a good law group. Their lawyers came in and blocked the re-zoning.
It’s specifically geared for small business enterprises, and partially
residential. So that quaint little butcher shop, the bakery, and other shops are
protected from the huge chains from coming in and taking a control and squeezing
them out.”
Alex
shrugged. “I can’t see what they’re doing as a bad thing. That area is
charming. I ride my bike down there on weekends, and visit many of the small
stores. I love that cheese and wine shop, and the open fresh produce market is
the best in town. I can see why the people in the area are trying to keep it
from being taken over.”
Michael
nodded to Alex. “I didn’t say I disagreed with them. But whether they like
it or not, it needs renovation and development. The utilities and water mains
are so old they burst every winter. The streets are buckling. Asphalt would be
better, but the community has blocked any suggestions about removing the old
cobblestone.” Michael smiled nastily at a scene he was watching distractedly
though the windows, but swallowed it as his amusement increased. “The
cobblestone can be repaired and updated, so that’s a minor problem. The place
is a fire hazard waiting to happen. It needs a better, modernized system
desperately without taking too much from the old world charm.”
Alex
caught Michael’s amusement and his concentration on the pool area, as he
watched the scene unfold. “What are you smiling at, G? You never smile.”
“That’s
not true. I have a great smile.” Michael ignored Alex’s snort. Michael stood
up a little so he could get a better view, and Alex looked around them and
noticed a few other diners were doing the same. “Um, Alex. I think you might
want to go get your bootycall beauties. They seem to be causing a
disturbance.” Michael made a whooping noise. “Yep, there went their tops!”
“Topless?”
Alex turned in his seat and stood up. “Oh, shit! That’s against club
regulations! They put me on suspension last time for three months. Dammit,
Michael, you could have mentioned it sooner.”
Michael
reached over and took Alex’s plate. “Run along. I’ll take care of this
pasta.” Michael took his fork and started eating Alex’s leftover lunch with
a gusto.
“Bastard!
Don’t think I’m not going to find out about this new woman you were seen
mauling in public,” said Alex maliciously when he saw Serena joining them. He
said it loud enough so he knew Serena heard. Eat that, pasta stealing bastard!
Jim
laughed as Alex scurried off to take the topless sunbathing groupies away before
security showed up. Alex stopped long enough to kiss Serena on her cheek.
“That
was unkind, Michael.” Jim said, but Michael shrugged and kept eating. He
hadn’t been hungry before, but his mother would’ve nagged him to eat. This
way, he could claim Alex’s meal and maybe get away with only a few words to
his mother.
“Hi,
Mikey. Darling, chew your food before swallowing. You always were in too much of
a hurry, devouring everything whole like a greedy child.”
Michael
rolled his eyes, and kept eating. Talking with his mouth full, he waved a fork
at his mother. “Serena.”
Serena
sat down with a sigh, looking at her husband with regret. Michael was never
easy. Jim smiled encouragement taking her hand and squeezing it in support. The
standard procedure was to try with Michael. It was the best she could do.
Serena
was a startlingly attractive woman. She and her son shared so many features. His
golden brown eyes came from her, as did his mouth and the structure of his face.
They both had the same light brown hair with lighter highlights, but Serena was
much more delicate. Michael had inherited his size from his father.
“Honey,
did you order for me?” Serena asked Jim, trying to appear unconcerned by
Michael’s attitude.
“A
grilled prawn salad, stuffed avocado, and chilled steak grill.”
“Lovely.”
Serena smiled at her husband, and then searched her son’s face. He hadn’t
said much about his latest failed engagement. She had hoped that he would hold
off a while before getting involved again. “Mikey, sweetie. Who is this woman
Alex was talking about?”
Michael
swallowed a retort aimed at Alex Whitman and his big fat mouth. “No one. I met
this irritating shopowner, ran into her again. We…” Michael stopped. He
didn’t know what to say about the second encounter with Maria DeLuca so he let
that sentence drop dead.
“What
did he mean that you were mauling her?” Serena bit her lip, wishing he would
just talk to her. It was hard. She had made mistakes, but things changed when he
turned sixteen. He had gone out and gotten an after school job that he could
work in the summer. Construction. He talked Jim Valenti into hiring him. Michael
introduced her to Jim, and changed her life. She wanted to do the same for her
son.
“Nothing.
Alex is doing drugs. Ignore him.”
Serena
smiled at her son’s sour tone. “Alex doesn’t do drugs. You know that.
He’s seen too many people he admires, artists, die because of drug abuse. So
use another excuse.”
Michael
sighed. “He’s been sniffing too much Barbie perfume. Give me a break,
Serena. I really don’t want to talk about this.”
Michael
avoided her eyes knowing that she hated that he wouldn’t call her ‘Mom.’
Jim frowned, but held his criticism. It was an old fight. Michael was fair in
most things, but with regard to his parents, he had no forgiveness in his body.
Jim stayed out of it. It wasn’t his place to reprimand Michael, because he
wasn’t really his father. And in Michael’s eyes, Serena was barely his
mother.
“Whatever
makes you happy, sweetie.” Serena smiled at her son. “I really wanted to
talk to you. I’m bringing the girls home. I think boarding school in Gestadt
is nice, but I’m missing too much of their childhood. Jim and I decided that
it would be best if they came home and went to school here, maybe the same
school you went to.”
“Eleven
years, and now you’re worried about missing their childhood?” Michael was
silent for a moment. “My being here with you didn’t make you part of my
childhood. Why disrupt their lives? Did you ask them? Maybe they’re happy to
be in exile.”
Serena
frowned. “Michael…”
“Honey,”
Jim shook his head. “Why don’t we not talk about this right now? The girls
will be home, and Michael will get to know them. It’ll be a good thing.”
“A
good thing?” Michael rubbed his face. “Jillian was five and Leah was six
when they were sent to boarding school. Now they’re what? Sixteen and
seventeen?”
“I
know they’re close to graduating, but in a few short years they’ll be in
college, and…”
“So,
this is really about you again. Not them. Not me. You.” Michael looked sick.
“I’ve gotta go. Let me know when they’re coming. I’ll buy them a present
or something. I know a place that makes smelly crap that women like. I’ll get
this irritating person to create something guaranteed to cost me a small
fortune. That will make her happy too.” Michael didn’t bother to say
goodbye. He left quickly, stopping at the door to tell the management to put the
lunch tab on his bill.
“Michael…”
“Serena,
don’t.” Jim smiled at the server refilling their drinks. “Let him go.”
“I
wanted him to know that I was trying.”
Jim
sighed. When he married Serena, the girls were so young. He would’ve happily
let them live with them. But, Serena was still having a war with her latest
ex-husband, the girls’ father, Pierce. It was a sore point for Pierce to have
to pay for the expensive schooling, and Serena used it like a weapon against
him. For over eleven years the girls had been at boarding school, and one day
Serena woke up to what she had lost. She didn’t know any of her children.
Michael was almost beyond her, but she still had a chance with the girls.
“You
can’t expect him to be happy about this. He was a pawn between you and Hank.
The girls were a pawn between you and Pierce. The children were never anything
more than something to use.” Jim sighed. He wasn’t blameless. He should’ve
insisted on getting to know his stepdaughters. Michael had been easy. Jim had
met Michael first, even before Serena. Actually he met Serena because of
Michael. Ten years of marriage, and he had no intention of divorcing Serena or
letting her find a reason to divorce him. It was one of the reasons he retired
early, and sold his business to his stepson.
Serena
was a lovely woman, but she was selfish and vain. She worked best when she was
completely the center of attention, and all her desires were met. As far as he
could tell, Hank was much the same sort of creature. Perhaps Michael had some of
that in his makeup, but there was more to Michael than that. He was haunted by a
fear of waking up one day, and being his parents. Having a family was part of
Michael’s campaign to prove his fears wrong. He would stick. He would marry,
have kids, and no matter how miserable his marriage got, he would not leave.
That alone was enough to concern Jim to no end. Michael didn’t really believe
in love, had no experience with it, and definitely wasn’t looking for it. He
liked his stepson. He wanted him happy. Left to his own devices, the best
Michael would achieve would be simply existing.
“Jimmy,
what are we going to do? Kyle isn’t doing much better.”
Jim
winced at his son’s name. “Serena, I can’t back down on this with Kyle.”
“He’s
out there alone, doing I don’t know what. God only knows.” Serena dabbed at
her eyes. She was older now. She was ready for grandchildren. Her children
didn’t know her, and she didn’t know them. Her stepson, Kyle was so
footloose that he scared her.
“He’s
twenty-five, Serena. He made his choices.”
“You
should’ve listened more. Paid attention. Not cut him off.”
Jim
let the irritation of her criticism wash over him. She was a fine one to give
parenting advice. Quelling it, he admitted to his mistakes. “Letting
“Perhaps
you should find him and give him another chance.”
Jim
shook his head. He finally got custody of his son back from his ex-wife when
Kyle was seventeen, two years after he married Serena. Kyle had a chance, but he
came home to a stepmother and a stepbrother. His father was busy with his
business, and his stepbrother Michael was working with Jim, his second in
command. Things were tough and Kyle kept getting into trouble, even after he
went to college. At twenty-five he had been kicked out of two universities, and
his gambling, drinking, and partying was effectively keeping him from growing
up. Six months ago, Jim told Kyle to straighten up, or leave. Kyle left.
“He’s
at
“Then
call her.”
Jim
grimaced. Talking to his ex-wife was never a pleasant thought. They had divorced
when Kyle was seven, and for ten years
Meeting
and working with Michael, a young man almost three years older than his own son,
made Jim want to reach out again to Kyle. Michael had been quiet about Jim’s
decision, but Jim could feel Michael’s quiet approval. A boy needs his father.
Michael knew that better than most.
“I’ll
call her tonight.”
Serena
reached into her bag and took out her cell phone. “Call her now. We talked
about this. No more avoiding the truth. No more avoiding our children. We are
going to become better parents, so we can become better grandparents. Start
now.”
Jim
took the phone and looked at his wife. “Stop being so firm and strong. I’ll
start to think I am having an affair with another woman.”
“Oh!
Make believe games! We’ll play lord of the manor later. Call
~~~
Michael
drove past the shop three times before he finally admitted he was pathetic and
never going to stop. What to say? No clue. The only thing he really knew was
that he wanted to see her again. He needed to talk to her.
Leaning
against the back wall of the elevator, he ignored everyone entering and exiting
at different floors, not even bothering to acknowledge tentative hellos. His
building. His company. His employees. He barely saw them.
The
headaches were back. His head was killing him.
“Kathleen,
get me some aspirin or narcotics!” Michael said as he headed straight to his
office.
“I
see your mother must have shown up for lunch.”
Michael
stopped in his tracks and looked back at the petite elegant blonde that had been
his private secretary for the past five years. She was a good five to seven
years older than he was. Actually Michael was uncertain, because Kathleen
wouldn’t say. Michael once looked up her employment records on the computer,
but since Kathleen took care of all the entries, in her birth date spot was a
message that said, ‘Mind your own business!’.
“How
did you know?”
Kathleen
pushed two white tablets into his hand, and gave him a bottle of water.
“Nothing gives you a headache faster than your mother.”
“Serena
does inspire a certain amount of stress.”
“Hmm.”
Kathleen was watching him. “Anything else?”
Michael
shook his head and started for his office, but he suddenly stopped. “I was
thinking that I should send a…something, um…a thing that a woman would like
to this, um…”
“Woman?”
Kathleen asked kindly.
“Yeah.”
Michael scratched his eyebrow.
“Flowers?”
Michael
thought about it for a moment. Flowers? Was that a good present for a woman he
grabbed at a party and kissed? “No, that doesn’t seem right. I think I might
have…insulted her.”
“Flowers
with an ‘I’m sorry’ could work.”
Michael
grimaced. “No. I think that would be taken wrong too. It says I’m sorry, and
well…” Michael rubbed his hurting neck. “I’m not. But if I don’t say
I’m sorry, than she’ll think I’m arrogantly thinking my behavior is okay,
and…”
“If
you aren’t sorry, than doesn’t that mean you’re glad?”
Michael
scowled. “What’s your point?”
“Okay,
then answer this. Would you do it again, whatever it was that you did?”
Michael
thought for a moment, and shrugged. “Maybe apologizing isn’t that
important.” Why the hell did he even ask her for help anyway? Women always
stuck together.
“Michael,”
Kathleen said hiding a smile at his irritation. “Maybe if you don’t want to
apologize, and you’re interested in having her know or not forget you, then
try a gift that speaks to her.”
Michael
sighed. “Okay, explain that! Speaks to her? Is that like women talk or
something? Like a secret code message to trip up men?”
Kathleen
openly laughed. “I mean, if you buy her something that you know she’ll like
or likes, or that somehow tells her that you notice her, personally She’ll be
touched. It will say that she wasn’t just a passing arrogant thought on your
part.”
“Okay,
that’s good.” Michael came back and sat on the edge of Kathleen’s desk.
“Like what?”
“I
don’t know!” Kathleen said with a little exasperation. Six fiancées,
you’d think he could handle this himself. “What does she like?”
“Like?
I hardly know her!” Michael frowned. He knew how she smelled. The soft
silkiness of her skin. The taste of her mouth. The irritating grate of her
disapproving voice. The sarcastic bite of her not so amusing humor. “She has
green eyes.”
“Green
eyes? That hardly equates into a present.”
“They
are incredible green eyes. Her mouth is…” Michael suddenly seemed
embarrassed at the concentration of his secretary’s regard. “Lavender. She
likes the scent of lavender and rosemary.”
“Lavender
and rosemary?” Michael nodded. “And you hardly know her?” Kathleen was in
shock. He couldn’t remember what his ex-fiancées looked like, but he knew
what scent this stranger liked? “You know I was thinking that a flower shop
could help. They can make a special basket…” Kathleen suddenly beamed. “I
know! Maria! The candle shop I sent you to, remember? I can have her make a
special basket with lavender and rosemary, and she can have it delivered.”
Michael
suddenly seemed uncomfortable. “No. That wouldn’t work.” Michael could
feel the heat rising up his neck. He might be clueless, but he could figure out
that having a woman make her own present wasn’t a good gesture of goodwill.
“You know what….Nevermind. I’ll take care of it.”
“You’ll
take care of it?” Kathleen asked
in amazement as Michael quickly left the offices again. The shock of him
actually doing this himself was so astounding, that it took a moment for her to
realize that he just walked out in the early afternoon of a work day. Hell, she
had been the one to pick out his last six engagement rings. “Um, Michael? What
about work?” Kathleen stared at the empty doorway. “Michael?”
~~~
There
were still too many people around. Michael looked at his watch and swore. He
should’ve waited. What the hell were her business hours anyway? When he first
arrived there were customers, so he waited outside until they cleared out.
Strange that the shop was now devoid of customers, but he still couldn’t
enter. Nerves.
Not
nerves. He knew what he was going to say. It had been a brief insanity. It
didn’t mean anything. He was sorry….no, he wasn’t. Michael swore again,
pacing in front of other stores, but avoiding hers, while clutching a brown
paper bag. Dammit.
Maria’s
heart stopped for a moment at the ringing of the bell. Taking a deep breath, she
practiced what the psychologist said. Concentration. Calm. Collect. The three
C’s. Turning, she was rooted to the spot when she saw him. Christ. Crud. Crap!
That damn shrink should have mentioned the other C’s! Bastard. Boob. Boor. Oh
shit. The alphabet was killing her.
Michael
moved closer, as Maria moved back until she ran out of room, her back against
the wall next to the back room door, the swinging beaded curtain making noise.
Oh, this felt way too familiar. Trepidation. Fear. Excitement. Michael could
read them all in her stance. She was wary of him. That was laughable. She had
nothing to fear. He was going to give her the present and go. Done. No problem.
It hadn’t meant anything.
And
so there they were, fighting but not fighting, in that special dysfunctional way
that strangely already seemed familiar, even though they were strangers. Michael
wasn’t sure what he was going to do until it happened. One moment, with the
best of intentions, he meant to sort of apologize…well, not really, but close.
The next, he just leaped at her, and it happened so fast, even Michael was
uncertain how it happened.
First
he thought about kidnapping her to someplace where he could think, and then he
thought maybe he should kill her for creating so much havoc in his normally,
albeit, fucked up world. But, instead... oh, man...he kissed her again. So
fucking hard their teeth clacked and he cut his lip. They both could taste the
blood, and it tasted...oh fuck, it tasted good. Maria pushed him away for a
moment breathing hard, and she went all still for a second, deer-in-headlights
still and then she was kissing him back. Tearing into him like Michael was
tearing into her. There was nothing sweet or seductive or sensual about it.
One
moment he was approaching her, the next his mouth was on hers and the bag hit
the floor as his hands moved upward to push into her hair, holding her mouth in
place for his kiss. Her hands. They were everywhere. On his body. In his hair.
She muttered something into his mouth, and he frowned into the kiss, slowly
pulling away, sucking her bottom lip sensually as he pulled away.
“What?”
he said huskily.
“Sweet,”
she said, her voice coming in a low sound, panting for breath. “Sweet with a
touch of spice. Cinnamon.” She groaned, “I hate you.” She pulled his mouth
back to hers and kissed him again. Ditto, he thought as he felt himself pulled
under the kiss. Later he would remember to care.
They
were like goddamned animals on each
other, biting, pulling, clawing, sucking, chewing, trying to push each other
away, and as fast as they did, they pulled the other back again...somehow they
ended halfway up the back stairs, halfway undressed, and more than a little
bruised.
“I
brought you a present,” Michael said, as his mouth followed the fascinating
line of her neck.
Maria’s
head went back, as she stumbled on the stairs, and went down, taking Michael
with her. “What?” Gulping, she moaned as he bit her on the neck, hard.
“What is it?”
“Bottle
of shampoo and conditioner in one. Lavender scented.”
Her
hands were up the back of his open shirt, moving over the skin of his back, as
her mouth found his again, kissing him, drawing his tongue into her mouth to
suck it in gulps, and moving back to allow him to follow her. They were sprawled
carelessly on the stairs.
“I
love lavender.”
“I
know,” he said, his voice was deep and passion-heavy. His body was worse. It
was on the verge of losing control.
“Time
saving.” Maria commented reasonably.
“That’s
what I thought.” Suddenly he stopped and looked at her, and his eyes were
bleak and beautiful. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against hers.
"This
isn't going to go anywhere at all, is it?" he asks quietly, his voice
ragged and breathless and verging on wild. He was making her knees weak, so it
was a good thing they were sprawled on the stairs and not standing. Maria could
feel the hint of a panic attack. In a rush of insight, she suddenly realized
that this stranger, a man whom she barely knew but could identify blindfolded,
that he would always make her knees
weak.
She
wanted to lie to him, because the lie would be so close to the fucking truth.
This
could never go anywhere, yet everything was different now, but how could you
explain that when your body was aching and you've got the taste of Michael
Guerin on your tongue?
So
she told him, "No," and then, "I don’t care, just get us into a
bed.”
Oh
damn. Michael didn’t understand much, but he understood where her answer was
coming from, because he closed his eyes. Not moving or looking at her for the
longest time after that. He wanted more…more than having her for a stolen
moment of passionate insanity. But more than that, he wanted her to want more
too. No fear of risk. No fear of taking chances. No promises…just hope. Blind
faith in whatever it was that was driving them. It was nothing. It was
everything. It was there between them, even if they weren’t ready to face it,
and it had a name.
“Okay,”
said Michael, accepting her unnamed terms. He could give her today. He knew that
yesterday was one thing, and tomorrow would be something else entirely. Today,
they had this.
It
would have to be enough.
“What
the hell is going on?!” Tess’s disapproving voice stopped the negotiations
flat.
Michael rolled off Maria, and laid back on the stairs with
his arm over his eyes. He just lost the contract. He looked at the voice. The
woman was small and delicate. A blonde with a deadly glint, and a firm stance, a
pit bull standing firm to protect its friend. Oh shit. More complications.