Being a Guardian, winning tons of gifts for Michaelia wasn’t that difficult, seeing through the ruses being used. And with each stuffed animal, with each little cheap souvenir, Michael felt her coming out of her shell, felt the love and beauty emanate from her. Through it all he kept a tight grip on her hand, knowing full well she’d never experienced being held onto in public. But there was still that hesitancy coming from her, a resistance. He realized that even after the run-in with Tracie and Sheryl, she was waiting for him to drop her hand, walk away, head for the nearest bleach-bottle blonde. As they left the ice cream booth, an opportunity arose for him to make his move, seal the experience for her.
“Umf.” A little boy had come careening around the corner and slammed right into Michaelia, the ice cream cone hitting the side of her face. The humiliation of standing there in public with ice cream on her chubby cheeks was a little more than she could take. It had taken every ounce of will-power she had to order the damn thing, now … she wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. People were looking at her, staring, wondering what this pig of a creature with chocolate ice cream on her face was doing with such a fine specimen of masculinity.
“Here, let me get that.” Michael quickly produced some napkins, gently wiping her face, keeping his eyes on her. “Kid needs to look where he’s going.” Once the ice cream was gone, he kissed her cheek, softly, almost chaste, but enough to show the world he was more than a relative or friend.
“Uh, thank you.” Michaelia was quite taken aback with his kiss. Okay, kisses on the cheek weren’t exactly romantic, plenty of aunts and grandmas loved the kiss on the cheek, along with a pinch or two, but this was … different. He had taken his time to clean off the ice cream, staying close, a hand on her hip as the ice cream was disposed of. So this is what it feels like to be taken care of. It was a foreign feeling to her.
They spend the entire day at the carnival, at the end of the day, his car full of the fruits of his winnings. It was nearly sunset when they left the carnival, both smiling, laughing.
Arriving home, Michaelia dumped all her wonderful carnival winnings onto her dining room table. Never had she seen so much cheap chotchkies that meant so much to her. She turned, finding Michael right behind her, her eyes staring at his wonderfully sculpted chest.
“Oh, um, thank you again. It was a wonderful day. You have no idea.” She was getting a little nervous with him so close to her.
“The day’s not over yet.” Michael put his finger underneath her chin. “May I kiss you?” He’d been wanting to claim those lips for hours now. The kiss on the cheek just hadn’t been enough.
She swallowed … and again. Other than a few drunken gropes in college, she’d never been really kissed. Would she know how? Would she be any good at it? Against her instincts, she nodded. Michael’s face came closer and she had to close her eyes. Soft lips brushed hers and the world stopped, her heart beat wildly. All too soon it was over and he stepped back.
“Now, go get dressed, we’re going out on the town tonight, dinner and dancing.”
Michaelia opened her eyes and came back to reality. “What? Huh? Oh, um, I don’t have anything like that to wear. Not really built for dresses, more of a linebacker if you haven’t noticed.”
Michael gestured with his head to the bedroom. “There’s a dress, perfect for you, just waiting for you to wear it.”
“A dress? What…?” Michaelia stepped back even farther. “I don’t, I can’t … you’ve given me so much today. And believe me, no matter what the dress is, it’s going to look like a potato sack on me.”
“Trust me? You will love it. I guarantee it’s going to look beautiful on you.”
She raised her eyebrow, knowing full well that the dress was going to be horrible. She owned exactly one black dress, for funerals. Her chunky legs suck out of the straight hemline like two ham hocks. No, dresses were for women who had waists, not one who’s waist size was about the same as her hips.
“Please? Please, try it on. You don’t like it, we’ll get something else. No matter what, I am going to show you off tonight.”
Admitting defeat, Michaelia nodded and headed back to her bedroom, seeing a beautiful red dress laying on the bed. “Where … How?” She was getting pretty impressed with his talents.
Michael appeared in the bedroom doorway. “It’s a gift. Why don’t you take a shower, put the dress on, I’ll take Bodie for a walk and change myself. Dinner at Vincent’s?”
“Vincent’s?! God, that is like the most expensive place in the city! It’s way too much …”
Michael put his finger to her lips. “Nothing is too anything for you today. Get dressed, I’ll be right back.”
Michaelia nodded and headed toward the shower. She looked at her naked body in the mirror, wondering … how could he want this? How could he not be disgusted by this? She certainly was. She had been on diet after diet after diet, losing weight, gaining it back. Nothing had worked … she had been born fat, was fat in grade school, junior high, high school, college. The image of her school dances swarmed her … always watching from the sidelines, while all her friends paired up, even the friends she came to the dance with. Permanently the third wheel. Now she was going out to dinner with … well someone who probably was a Greek God. What the hell? She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, remembering this was only for 24 hours. At 6am tomorrow, he would be gone. At least he had given her an out; she could always claim he was killed in action and that was the reason he never came around anymore. She was grateful for that. At least she never had to say she’d been dumped.
The hot water felt good; she pushed away the negative thoughts as she washed herself, her rolls of fat that were so disgusting. She leaned against the tiled walls … she’d seen those much fatter than herself get married, obviously have sex as they have children … how do they and their partners get past the disgusting fat? How do they … do it? How can anyone kiss such a fat person? Michaelia put her fingers up to her lips, remembering the soft kiss Michael gave her. How was she not … repulsive? She took a deep breath, finished her shower and went out to the bedroom to look at the dress.
It was red, with a low plunging neck, showing off lots of cleavage. However, she knew how she was going to look … her fat dumpy legs and jello arms sticking out of such beautiful fabric … but at least she’d be with Michael … for a few more hours at least. She wondered what would happen at the end of the dinner … would he leave early? Maybe crash on her couch? Maybe they could talk all night. That would be nice. Share coffee, maybe another kiss. Yes, very nice. She put the dress on, did her hair the best it would cooperate, but on some makeup … damn, even got the eye shadow out and the lipstick. She had no clue what she was doing, but she looked a little better, maybe a little sexy with some makeup. She wanted to at least look a bit of the part of a sophisticated woman going out to dinner and dancing.
She walked back to the living room to see Michael dressed in a very nice, very tailored black suit. If he looked good in a tee and jeans … damn. James Bond had NOTHING on him.
“Wow, you look nice.”
Michael looked her up and down. “So do you. Very pretty.”
“Thanks but I know I don’t do dresses very well.”
“I think you look beautiful.”
Michaelia blushed. No one had ever said that to her before.
“Cute. I like when a woman blushes. Means she’s not all egotistical. Shall we go?” Michael extended his hand once again.
It was becoming second nature for Michaelia to clasp her hand with his. It felt so natural. As was him opening the doors for her, him guiding her, putting his hand to her lower back to help her up a curb … it was all … romantic. As was the single red rose waiting in the car for her. Yep, Prince Charming was a slacker compared to him.
Vincent’s was magnificent. Michael had ordered for them, prime rib, potatoes, homemade rolls… and chocolate truffle cake for dessert. And Michaelia ate everything, no reservations. They talked, they danced… Michaelia
hadn’t danced with anyone ever… well, with her brother-in-law at his and her sister’s wedding, but that didn’t. She thought she’d trip over her own feet, but she didn’t, she found the graceful woman who had been buried deep inside her. They danced, drank martinis, talked, until Vincent’s closed. And the night was over. All too soon, Michaelia found herself back home, her dreary one-bedroom apartment. She looked up at Michael who was still standing in the building’s hallway.
“Um, would you like some coffee, maybe talk for a bit.” Michaelia looked at her watch. “There’s still a few hours until… until 6.”
Michael stepped into the doorway, putting one had at her waist, another cupping her cheek. “I’d like to kiss you again.”
Not able to find her words, she leaned into him and their lips met, another soft kiss until … she jumped back when she felt his tongue against her lips.
“I’m sorry, did I do something you don’t like?”
Michaelia kept her distance. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any … I’ve never been – No one’s ever wanted to kiss me like that and I don’t know how to react.”
Michael smiled. “May I teach you? May I have the honor of being your first?”
Michaelia blushed again. “What do I do?”
Michael stepped in close, this time, both hands on her face. “Just do what feels natural. If you don’t like something, step back a little. We can try again.”
Michaelia nodded and Michael placed his lips on hers, adding a little pressure, his tongue coming out. She parted her lips, and felt his soft tongue invade her mouth. Her tongue met his and it was like she was a master at kissing. She melted into him, putting her arms around his neck as his hands moved from her face to her neck, cradling her head.
After long minutes, they both came up for air. Michaelia opened her eyes, a little breathless.
“That was very, um, nice. More than I ever expected, more than I ever thought it would be.”
“Do you wish to go further? Or shall we stay here in the living room?”
Michaelia’s heart beat wildly, she could hear her pulse in her ears. Was he actually asking what she thought he was asking? She looked down at herself, at the fat that was being trapped by a beautiful dress for the moment. Could she … could she actually let another person see her … like that?
“Only if you want. But I know you are beautiful, even without the dress.”
Michaelia shook her head. “No – I’m not. I have never been nor will I ever be a size two. Hell, never be a size ten. I can’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror very long.” She looked up into those vividly intense blue eyes. “How can you want – me? Like that?”
“Because all I can see is what’s in the inside. Your soul is blindingly beautiful. The outer package doesn’t matter. When I saw your so-called friends today? You wouldn’t believe how gray their souls were. How tarnished.”
“You can see all that? You can really see … me?”
Michael nodded, placing his hands on her face and kissing her again. “This night is for you. We’ll do whatever you want. You want to talk, we’ll talk. You want to play Scrabble, we’ll play Scrabble. You want to make love, then we’ll make love.”
Michaelia took a deep breath, closed her eyes and wondered if she was making the biggest mistake she’d ever make. Grasping his hand she led him to the bedroom; they stopped right next to the bed and he kissed her again, then unzipped her dress. She looked away for a moment, not wanting to see his expression once the dress fell. But his look never wavered as he undressed her, kissing every inch of exposed flesh. He took off his own clothes … she wanted to help but had no clue what to do. Then they were standing in front of each other, naked.
He picked her up; she wanted to protest but he did it with such ease … like she was built like Tracie, size 0, light as a feather. Then he loomed over her, kissing her, bringing her to the heights of pleasure no vibrator could ever match. And when he entered her there was some discomfort, but it lead to passion – passion that could never be found again. She held onto him orgasm after orgasm. And she whispered into his ear. “I love you.”
After making love for what seemed like hours, they both fell asleep. The chirping of birds woke them up and they looked at the clock. It was 5:55 in the morning. The 24 hours were almost up. He kissed her passionately.
“I wish we had time for one more … “ He ended his words. His wishes didn’t count in the scheme of things. “I love you, Michaelia. My namesake.” He kissed her again, then got out of bed and put his clothes on. As the time flew by, the clock moved from 5:59 to 6:00. As he faded away, he said once more … “I love you.”
Michaelia let the tears fall. But she had gotten her 24 hours. Now it was back to the drudgery of her life, to live on those wonderful 1,440 minutes for the rest of her life.
The Elders smiled, another wish fulfilled. But the Guardian was troubled…
The Guardians Series #1: Twenty-Four Hours Page 4