Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  “No, but that feels good,” he whispered.

  I smiled. “Oh yeah? What about here?” Tracing my tongue down the nape of his neck, I planted a kiss at the collar bone. He moaned.

  “You’re getting close.” He chuckled. The sound of his laugh made smile.

  Sitting up, I looked down at him. “You make me happy.” It was such a random comment, but I couldn’t help it. Staring at him, I couldn’t believe that he was mine. Even in such a short period of time, I was beginning to fall for him. That scared me the most. My biggest fear was to fall so deep, that it would be too hard for me to accept if things were to go wrong. I could feel my eyes water at the thought, but I held back my tears. It was too soon to feel this way. The last thing I needed was for him to think I was a clingy psycho and that he should run.

  Sitting up on his elbows, his smile faded. “Mia, since the day I met you, I’ve been nothing but happy.” Then very slowly his lips curled into a wicked grin. “Though, if you keep walking around in tiny towels, I’ll have no choice but to punish you.” He teased, smacking a hand on the back of my ass.

  “Marcus!” Swinging my hand to smack his arm, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me in. Gripping the back of my neck, he forced my lips onto his and kissed me. Knowing my weakness, I allowed him to take over and please me in ways that only he can.

  ****

  The next two weeks couldn’t have been more perfect. Well except for the smart remarks from the secretaries in the office. The remarks were never directed to me, but I heard the snickering every time I walked by. It was difficult to adjust to females touching Marcus every time they spoke with him. It was actually disgusting how they blatantly threw themselves at him. Marcus would gently remove their hands from his arm or chest. He did it even when he didn’t notice I was watching. Good boy.

  Stephanie, his assistant, had toned down her narrow glares and eye rolling. She didn’t know I could see her grim looks when Marcus would embrace me in a hug, a kiss, or even when he made an endearing comment towards me. Marcus was clueless about her reactions, and I chose to keep it that way. I didn’t want him to worry about some assistant that couldn’t keep her smug stares to herself.

  It was the last thing I needed to worry about as well when I had the upcoming family dinner. Marcus hadn’t stopped talking about it. At first I thought it was canceled after hearing his conversation with Lou, but I put two and two together and realized he didn’t want Lou to be there.

  It was Friday, and Marcus promised to come over that night. I was excited because Jeremy was leaving straight after work with Stacy to go to her parents’ shore home. That meant I had the entire apartment to myself, and I planned to take advantage of it. The last three days I had done nothing but make arrangements to ensure that this would be the most perfect night.

  I just needed Marcus to stay away for a couple hours, so that I could have everything ready. It felt like the longest day of the week. What made me more eager for this evening was that Marcus and I hadn’t been together the past few days. Our time together was spent only in the office. He’d been busy in the evenings a lot. We talked over the phone and sent a few texts messages, but that’s all. I wasn’t complaining. I’d take what I could get as long as I could see him.

  “Hey, babe.” Marcus poked his head through the door. Looking up from my computer screen, I smiled at him.

  “Hi, baby. Is it five yet?” Grabbing my phone, I looked at the time to answer my own question.

  “Yes, uh, I’m going to be a little late tonight. I have something that I have to do.” He carefully said, expecting me to be angry.

  Perfect! This would give me plenty of time to set everything up. “Okay, what time do you think you’ll be over?”

  “Ah, maybe eight. Is that too late?”

  “No, it’s perfect. I can give you the spare key, just in case I’m in the shower or something.” Standing up, I dug into my purse. Locating my key chain, I slid the spare key from the ring, walked over and handed it to him.

  “Okay, babe. I’ll shoot you a text when I’m on my way.” Leaning in, he quickly kissed me and hurried away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dinner was ready, dessert was in the oven, the table was set for two, and a couple bottles of wine were being chilled. The apartment and bedroom were set up just like I’d imagined. I stood in the living room admiring my masterpiece. Smiling at my work, I did a final check. The candles were lit, the lights were dim, and rose petals trailed into the bedroom. The new red satin sheets were neatly spread across the bed, and some cuffs that I purchased were lying on top. I’d never done anything like this before, and in a way I was nervous. He may pretend to think it’s silly, but I know he won’t actually think so. I glanced at the clock. It was only seven; he should arrive within the next hour or so.

  Running towards the bathroom, I began to doll myself up. My makeup was flawless: I decided on the smoky-eye look. My hair was teased and wild; and the pink lip gloss definitely made my green eyes pop. I looked in the mirror, and I barely recognized myself. I looked HOT! The black lace corset enhanced my curves. The matching lace panties lay perfectly on my rounded ass, and the red pumps I wore gave the outfit the finishing touch.

  Super excited about the night, I went into the kitchen to take the pie out of the oven. The flaky golden crust looked delicious. My stomach growled. I was starving. Skipping lunch may have been a bad idea, now that I think about it. Now that everything was ready, I could sit back and wait for Marcus to arrive.

  Me (8:35pm): Hey babe, u on ur way?

  Me (9:00pm): Everything ok?

  Me (9:38pm): I’m starting to get worried.

  Me (10:15pm): Please call or text me.

  Me (11:25pm): Babe?

  Marcus (12:00am): I’m so sorry, on my way now.

  Was he fucking kidding me! I was seriously upset. No, I was irate. No, better yet, I was furious! I’d been worried the past four hours, thinking something happened. I’d called him, leaving him voice message after message. And what did I receive? A text with a simple, “I’m sorry, on my way,” what kind of shit is that? Arrrgh! Stomping over to the beautifully decorated table, I grabbed the wine bottle out of the bucket that was filled with water from the melted ice. I poured myself a glass and drank, and drank some more, and then some more.

  After the entire bottle was finished, I began the second one, and it was almost two in the morning with no Marcus. I was so angry with him at that moment that I didn’t even want to see him. Screw him! Deciding to lock the top lock since he couldn’t get in without that key, I stood to make my way to the front door.

  Whoa. The entire room was spinning; too much wine at such a fast pace wasn’t doing me any good. Blinking a few times so the spinning could stop, I managed to have a clear view. Wobbling over to the door, I stopped when the door knob began to jiggle. He’d arrived. Just awesome! When the door opened, he froze, gawking at me with a huge grin from ear to ear.

  “Baby.” He breathed, pleased with my appearance.

  I rolled my eyes. I was too angry to blush over his reaction. “Don’t you baby, me.” I said, waving my finger at him while slapping my free hand on my hip.

  His expression dropped instantly. Closing the door behind him, he didn’t take his eyes off me. “I’m so sorry. I am really, really, sorry.”

  Waving my hand in the air dismissing his apology, I stomped over to the island in the kitchen and poured myself another glass of wine. “I don’t want to hear it, Marcus; I’m beyond angry right now. So save your apologies for someone else.” Taking a gulp of my drink, I watched through the glass as he looked around at the rose petals on the floor and the table perfectly set up for two.

  He sighed, and his eyebrows pulled in. “You did all this for me?” he whispered.

  “No, Marcus, I usually do extravagant shit like this once a month. You happened to walk in at the right time!” He looked down, clearly disappointed in himself. Plucking my shoes off, I made it a point to not stop there. Maybe it was the
wine on an empty stomach, but I wanted him to feel crappy for standing me up.

  “Yes, I did it for you. I’ve been planning it for three days. I cooked you dinner—even made dessert. I didn’t eat. At first I was worried sick, thinking you may have gotten into a car accident or hurt. Then I got a text from you at midnight, four hours after you said you would be here!” Slapping both of my hands against my chest, I slightly lost balance but managed not to fall. “And you walk in here at two in the morning, and what? Am I supposed to welcome you with open arms? Oh, Marcus, I missed you; please eat my food and fuck me?” I looked at him through hazy eyes, waiting for him to respond.

  He traced the top of his teeth with his tongue, and then his lips curled to the side. His jaw tightened. He was angry now. “Okay, I think you’ve had enough to drink.” With one step he was beside me, reaching for my glass. I yanked it away before he could grab it; some of the red wine spilled on my hand and onto the granite counter top. “See what you did!” he said.

  Annoyed by his crap, I yelled, “Fuck you, why are you still here?”

  His eyes widened. “Seriously, Mia? You’re going to talk to me like that? Give me that!” He gripped my hand. We began to wrestle back and forth with the glass. The rest of the wine spilled all over the floor and onto our clothing.

  Realizing that I was not giving up, he gave in, letting me have it. Angry with the entire debacle, I slammed the stem on the island, causing the glass to shatter. His veins protruded off his forehead. It pissed me off even more that he was angry. He had no right to be angry! I’m the only one that should be mad.

  “I said I was fucking sorry! What the FUCK! This entire little scene isn’t necessary, Mia. You’re acting like a child!”

  Did he just seriously say that? “I’m acting like a child? I’m acting like a child!” Stepping back to the table, I turned and grabbed the covered food. Lifting the plates, I slammed them to the floor. All of the food and broken glass splattered across tiles. “Is that fucking childish enough for you. Get out!” Breathing heavily, I pointed toward to the door.

  Hovering over me, he yelled, “FINE!” His face was red with anger. He stormed away, grabbing his keys on the side table by the entrance and then slammed the door behind him. The loud thumping noise brought me back to reality. I slid down the wall, dropping to the ground, sobbing. Throwing my face into my hands, I couldn’t believe what just happened. What have I done? I was probably acting childish, and there was no excuse, not even liquor. Somehow the liquor gave me the courage to act stupidly.

  Even though I was still furious with him, I had to wonder what was so important that made him six hours late. He was so secretive, and it was getting hard for me to deal with.

  I probably sat there for fifteen minutes before I heard the front door slowly open. I didn’t have to get up to see who it was. I just knew it was him. Who else would it be?

  “Mia?” His voice pierced through the kitchen, and I lifted my hand, so he could see where I was. He walked around the island and spotted me. His face dropped, and very slowly he inched over to me. The front of his sneakers tapped against my toes, and he bent down to my level. He lowered his head to me. “I’m so sorry ... about everything ... being late. You had every right to be angry.”

  I wiped the moisture of the tears off my cheeks and sniffed. “I’m still mad at you.”

  Letting out a deep breath, his brows pulled in. “I know … I’m really sorry.”

  “Why were you late? Why didn’t you text me right away or call? I was worried sick about you.”

  “I was on a job. I couldn’t get out of it. I really tried, baby. I really did. I was stuck and I couldn’t answer you ’cause I was too busy.”

  Wiping the snot with the back of my hand, I sniffed again. “What job?” Pressing his lips together, he gave me the look that I’d learned way to soon. He couldn’t tell me. “Oh, that’s right. It’s a big secret.” I rolled my eyes and stood. He stood up with me and grabbed my arm to keep me from moving.

  “Mia, please, I’m really sorry. I don’t want to go to bed angry … please forgive me. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

  I couldn’t believe I was caving in to those eyes. It was more because I was extremely tired and hungry, and the corset was sucking the life out of me. I nodded at him and walked toward the bedroom. He followed.

  “I’m so sorry, babe,” he said, shaking his head when he saw the new silk sheets neatly spread over the bed. I didn’t say anything; I was too exhausted. Instead I shifted my body, asking him to unhook the corset. Once it was off, I let out a deep breath; it felt so good to take it off. We crawled into bed, lying on our sides, staring at each other in complete silence.

  “Mia?” he whispered.

  “Yeah?” I asked as he reached his hand over and gently brushed his fingers against my face. The gesture was so soft and simple, but it felt right. It felt like a relief, and as much as I wanted to still be mad, I didn’t have the strength.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Let’s forget about it, okay?” I said, cutting him off. He nodded once in agreement. Bringing his head in, his lips gently kissed mine. It felt different. We usually kissed forcefully, hard, and powerfully. This time he was gentle, stroking his tongue in soft movements and carefully holding my head. His touch always broke me, and I quickly forgot about our fight. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him in closer.

  Breaking from the kiss, he took off his clothes, and I yanked my lace panties off. Grabbing my face with his hands, he continued to kiss me indulgently. I spread my legs, and he made his way between them, instantly filling me with his hardness. I gasped. This was the first time we didn’t use protection, and it felt so good when he moved his hips in a slow rhythm that I couldn’t fight him off.

  Gripping my hands with his over my head, he continued at the same pace, not missing a beat. We stared at each other as our bodies molded perfectly against one another. Sex with him was usually rough and hard. But this, this was different: we were making love. His eyes searched my face; he seemed lost and afraid. Usually he would flash me a wicked smile or make a naughty comment. It was like we both couldn’t breathe, mesmerized with one another. I moaned when I felt myself building, ready to let go. With him I’m not just me; I’m his.

  Both our bodies trembled at the somehow new sensation; he leaned down, his lips meeting mine. “Mia,” he whispered. He thrust his hips against mine, my insides tightened, and he groaned against my bottom lip as he exploded inside of me. My body instantly reacted to his convulsion, and I whispered his name as my orgasm reached its peak. Still inside of me, his body slammed against mine, and he threw his head into the nape of my neck. “I love you.” It was barely a whisper, but I heard it.

  I was afraid of those three little words—afraid because I felt the same. It was too soon. We’d just had a huge fight just a few moments before. Wasn’t it a bad sign to be arguing at such an early stage of a relationship? He was saying he loved me. We’ve only known each other for a couple weeks. Was it really love, or was it lust? Pretending not to hear him, I didn’t say anything. We just stayed in that position, listening to sound of our own breathing, until we drifted into a deep sleep.

  ****

  The smell of fresh brewed coffee woke me. The side of the bed Marcus had occupied was now empty. Stretching my arms over my head, I squealed with delight. Glancing at the small alarm clock, I saw that it was seven in the morning. It was Saturday. I’m never up this early on a weekend. My eyes, feeling heavy, began to close again. They re-opened at the sound of a loud thumping noise coming from the kitchen. It sounded like he was cooking. Unwillingly I rolled off of the bed. Noticing his t-shirt thrown on the floor, I bent over, grabbed it, and tossed it over my head. Dragging my feet to the bathroom, I lifted the toilet lid and slumped on the seat. I could hear a few more thumps in the kitchen. What was he doing?

  Finishing, I stood and flushed the toilet. Making my way to the sink, I jumped at the sight of myself in the mirror
. My overly teased hair was a mess. My smoky eye makeup was all over the place, and the mascara left dry drip marks on cheeks from crying. He’d woken up to this! Grabbing a hair tie from the side drawer, I tossed my hair into a high bun, attempting to calm the medusa look.

  Turning the facet on, I adjusted the hot and cold until the water turned a satisfying warm temperature. I grabbed the facial cleanser and squeezed the gel onto my hand, rubbing my palms together till it foamed. I scrubbed my face and rinsed, making sure I repeated it two more times till there were no more traces of smeared makeup. After brushing my teeth, I headed for the kitchen.

  Marcus’ back was facing me as he hovered near the stove. Looking around, I noticed everything was clean: the shattered glass from last night was no longer on the counter top or the floor, and the rose petals that I placed on the floor were all gone.

  The table was still set for two but with new plates. What time did he wake up? We went to sleep a little after three in the morning, and it was only seven. Does he ever sleep? He turned around when he felt my presence and smiled. “Good morning, babe.” Lightly jogging over to me with a spatula in hand, he gave me a quick peck on the lips and led me to sit at the table. “I made breakfast.”

  “Thank you.” He opened the microwave and took out a mug. Running back to me, he handed me a cup of coffee, placing sugar, cream, and a spoon in front of me as well. I smiled and began preparing my cup. He kissed my forehead before heading back to the stove. Taking a few sips of coffee, I watched him as he hurried back and forth from the stove to the island, placing the bacon, eggs, and pancakes on separate plates. Walking over, he grabbed both plates from the table and made his way back to the island. He prepared our plates, piling them high.

  When he placed the food before me, the smell of bacon made my stomach growl so loudly he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. “Hungry?” he asked, sitting in the chair across from me.

  “I didn’t have lunch or dinner yesterday.” I whispered. His face fell with understanding.