Spark

by Aleatha Romig

  “If it got out, we could tell everyone the truth. I’m your husband.”

  Her head shook faster. “That can’t get out either, for your sake and mine.”

  “I’m not leaving yet. We need to talk.” When her worried expression remained, I added, “No one saw me and no one will see me.”

  Madeline exhaled. “How can you be sure?”

  “I am.” Unable to keep my distance, I seized her waist beneath the simple nightgown. The cloud of air surrounding her held the faint aroma of soap and toothpaste. Splaying my fingers, I pulled her closer until her warmth came to my chest and her small hands to my shoulders. My palms skirted over her sides, upward to the swell of her breasts, and down to the curvature of her hips.

  “Pa-trick.”

  The way she elongated my name was Viagra to my dick.

  I wanted to talk, we needed to. Yet with her against me, there was a more pressing matter, one that had grown and developed in record time having her in my grasp. “I want you, Maddie girl.”

  She peered up. “That name is so juvenile.”

  “We can be one hundred years old, and I’ll still see you as my Maddie girl. I am going to kiss you.”

  Sexier than the purr of the heat through the ducts, her soft hum reverberated through the air, bringing warmth to everything it reached. I cupped her cheeks, bringing her lips to mine, tasting what I had only inhaled.

  Sparks ignited.

  Fire and mint.

  Together we moved closer, taking as well as giving. Her arms encircled my neck as my grip tightened. Our tongues danced in sync, delving, as our lips unapologetically bruised one another, and the room filled with the songs of pleasure.

  Reaching for the hem of her nightgown, I lifted it upward.

  Madeline stopped me. “That’s not talking. I don’t know when we’ll have another chance to talk. You said you wanted to talk.”

  “I’m going to make love to my wife first, and then once we’re both satisfied, we will talk.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “That didn’t sound like a question.”

  This time, I lifted the gown.

  Her body was now only covered by a slight triangle of black lace. As my gaze moved upward, I took in her round tits, darkening areolas, and tightening nipples. My hiss filled the air. When our eyes finally met, hers were a molten green, swirling with what I hoped was desire.

  “It wasn’t a question,” I said, reaching for her hand, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t say no.”

  “No.”

  We both stilled as I repeated the one-syllable word. “No.”

  “No, I don’t want to say that. I want you, too.”

  In one swoop, I lifted her from the ground. Carrying her to where the bedcovers were folded back, I lowered her to the sheet. Taking hold of the tie in her hair, I gently pulled it free, unleashing her long ebony locks. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  “You make me feel that way.”

  “It’s the way you should feel every damn day.”

  Her melancholy smile twisted a knife I didn’t understand and couldn’t identify. “Maddie, talk to me.”

  Her head shook. “Not yet. Do what you said you were going to do.”

  Make love to my wife.

  My grin grew as I released my cufflinks, placing them in my pants pocket, unbuttoned my shirt, removed it from my shoulders, and tossed it to the floor. Preceded by my shoes, my belt and trousers followed. Though my boxer briefs were still in place, my erection was growing painful, and pressing against the silk, it was hard to miss.

  “You’ve become a handsome man,” Madeline said, her eyes wide as she took me in.

  “You have always been the most beautiful woman even when you were still a girl.” I reached for the waistband of her tiny excuse for panties. She wiggled, allowing me to slide them down her thighs, calves, and over her painted toenails until they joined our other clothes littering the carpeting.

  “Oh...” she whimpered as my tongue found her core.

  She was a fucking luscious apple that I wanted to eat, lick by lick and nip by nip until the juice coated my tongue and chin. Her hips bucked and fingers splayed over my hair as her sounds of pleasure grew louder. It was as I sucked her clit that the earthquake within her began.

  Pushing down my boxers, I climbed over her sensuous body, the curves of her hips, flat plane of her stomach, and softness of her tits, as her legs spread wider, allowing me access. With my erection poised at her entrance, I stopped.

  “Maddie, open your eyes. See me.” It was a glimpse at heaven that met me as her lids blinked open. “No one else can hear you say it. You can deny it until the day I die, but just this once, let me hear you say your name.”

  She wiggled beneath me. “Please, I’m so ready.”

  “Who...tell me...who is ready?”

  Madeline

  I was lost, floating in a sea of blue, as I stared up at the sincerity in Patrick’s eyes.

  Adrift in a world of long ago, in a time when two lost souls, embodied in the beings of two petty thieves, found the honesty that comes with adolescent love. Without the constraints and responsibilities of age, the love we shared was all that we needed. Food, shelter, and even safety paled in comparison. Our mutual affection wrapped us in a warm cocoon at night and heated our days with desire. Together we were unstoppable until...

  My eyes closed as his image blurred.

  “Let me see.”

  Swallowing the emotion of our destruction, I did as he said and again opened my eyes. This time Patrick’s thumb wiped away a tear I hadn’t known had fallen.

  “Push them away,” he said.

  It was what he’d said the night before. I didn’t want to push the thoughts away. I wanted to go back in time, to build a time machine and linger in that era of lost innocence.

  Patrick’s lips peppered my cheeks with kisses. “I won’t push you. Say it when you mean it.”

  Palming his bristly cheeks, I pushed his head away until I could see all of his handsome face. Protruding brow, satin blue eyes with lashes too long to be a man’s, high cheekbones, and a defined, chiseled jaw appeared before me. “I can’t. I know it’s not exactly what you want to hear, but I will admit that I like to hear it from you even if it sounds juvenile.”

  Patrick’s smile curled upward. “My Maddie.”

  I nodded.

  It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it worked. My back arched and I cried out as for one last time, our two lost souls became one. Though my core fought the invasion, my mind wanted more. I wiggled and lifted my hips to accommodate him.

  It had been too long since I’d made love, probably seventeen years. Over the last five years, any kind of sex had been nonexistent—that was until last night. And now, two nights in a row, my muscles protested as together we found our rhythm.

  This wasn’t rushed or erratic.

  Slow and thorough, Patrick moved. This was what it was like to make love.

  Kisses, praises, and caresses overwhelmed me.

  Patrick worshipped everything about me as he encouraged my climb. Higher and higher. No longer taut from underuse but from the rush of desire, every nerve and muscle within me was on the brink of explosion. Clawing at his broad shoulders, I clung to him as time after time, he made my world implode.

  When I thought it wasn’t possible to get there again, he’d find a way. It was as he’d always been, the one who persisted and prevailed. The one who refused to let the two of us become lost to the streets. Patrick was still that same person, pushing me—no, encouraging me.

  It wasn’t only me who found release. His neck would strain and the air filled with his guttural roar, and yet we weren’t done. We began the dance again.

  Perhaps we both knew this was the last time. Such as riding a roller coaster that both excites and thrills, neither of us was ready to get off.

  I wouldn’t allow myself to think about the consequence were our reunion discovered.

  The ride would be closed, quite p
ossibly the entire park. Andros didn’t play fair nor did he share. I couldn’t think about it. Instead I chose to take what I could of Patrick, giving in return, and hope the memories would last me the remainder of my lifetime.

  The face of my phone read after three thirty in the morning when Patrick left me to enter the bathroom only to return with a warm washcloth. There was something about the tenderness with which he tended to me that brought the lump back to my throat. “I don’t recall you doing this before?” I said, searching my memories. “It seems oddly intimate.”

  Such a peculiar thought after all the pleasure we’d brought one another, and yet it was true. Having him gently clean me was personal and private in a way sex was not.

  Patrick’s grin spread across his face. “Even at the mission, we had to leave our room and go into the hall for running water.”

  The small room he was talking about appeared in my memory. Smaller than this hotel room with a communal shared bathroom, it had been the closest to a real home we’d shared. We’d been allowed to move in after we could prove our marriage.

  Before that, it had been abandoned buildings, underpasses, tents, and of course, his carved-away room hidden behind a wall.

  Taking the washcloth back to the bathroom, Patrick returned to the bed. “I know it’s late. I should let you sleep. But, Maddie girl, I need answers and I believe I have a plan.”

  “Stay a little longer,” I consented, unwilling to lose what we were sharing.

  Patrick might have questions, but I knew that I couldn’t tell him what he deserved to hear. However, his talk of a plan had me intrigued.

  The bed dipped as Patrick settled his naked body beside mine, his head on the pillow as his long legs stretched under the covers. I lifted my head to his strong shoulder and mindlessly ran the tips of my fingers over his defined chest and abdomen. It was difficult for my mind to fathom the way he’d matured and the man he’d become. “Patrick, it makes me sad to think of you being alone. You should find someone.”

  His arm around my shoulder tightened. “I did.”

  I lifted my head. “This isn’t real. Soon I’ll be gone.”

  “I have a plan that will work.”

  “You do?” I asked with a grin. “It’s just like you to think you can fix things that are unfixable.”

  He reached toward me and smoothed a rogue strand of hair away from my face. “I told you that I checked the results before I left the club.”

  “Yes.”

  “Five hundred and ten thousand dollars is a lot of money.”

  “I suppose.” Terms such as ‘a lot’ and ‘a little’ were too subjective to argue.

  “Take it.”

  “What?” I asked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “I can’t take it. I need it to make my bets. I need it to advance from the next round and win the final.”

  His eyes closed as he shook his head. “I’m being as honest as I can. I can’t say too much...” He inhaled. “You are not going to win. You can’t. But if you listen to me now, you can walk away with half a million dollars.”

  I pulled away from his hold and with a huff, flopped back on the neighboring pillow. Reaching for the sheets and blankets, I pulled them up over my breasts. “You don’t think I can do it.”

  Patrick followed, the warmth of his chest lingering over me as he looked down into my eyes. “That wasn’t what I said. I know you can. I also know it won’t happen. Maddie, you’re here to play a tournament. There is more happening. The tournament is nothing more than the battlefield. I don’t want you to be a casualty. I won’t let that happen. If this tournament goes too far, you could be left with nothing.”

  I swallowed, thinking of Andros’s decree. “That can’t happen.”

  “Then cash out,” he said, as if it were that easy. “Take the money and then you can stay here in Chicago.”

  “If that were possible, which it’s not, tell me what would happen next. Tell me where you see me fitting into this plan.”

  “I’ll get you an apartment or better yet a house.” His tone lightened. “Remember when we used to talk about the suburbs and a yard?”

  My lips pursed. “You’ll get me...you’ll supply this mythical house with a yard and a picket fence. At that point, what will I be? Maybe your mistress, the woman you keep hidden?”

  He ran his finger over my cheek. “No, Madeline. You’ll be what you are, my wife, and all I want to hide you from is the cruelty that occurs in this city. I can keep you safe.”

  “Safety is an illusion, Patrick.”

  “I can’t tell you how, but I can do it. I know I can.”

  His sincerity made me scoff. Pushing his hand away, I threw back the covers and stood, naked and honest before him. This couldn’t go on. “It is late,” I said. “I need sleep because I don’t have a choice. I must win. I can’t say more either, nor will I, but the consequence of my not winning is too monumental for it to be a possibility.” Looking around the floor, I found my nightgown. After I’d pulled it over my head, I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “What in the hell are you thanking me for?” He too stood and began collecting his clothes. “I offered you a solution, but you sound like you won’t take it.”

  “I’m thanking you for tonight and last night. I can’t take your offer, but know I won’t forget you.” I never have.

  His boxers were in place and his trousers were pulled up, yet his wide chest was bare. “We still haven’t talked. I deserve at least one answer.”

  I pulled the lace thong up my legs and back into place before smoothing the nightgown. Looking back up, our gazes met. “I’m not sure if I can give it.” My chin came up. “But go ahead, ask.”

  He reached for my arms. “What happened? Why did you disappear?”

  I closed my eyes. Memories came and went in a whirlwind of chaos.

  Fear.

  Anguish.

  Terror.

  Even joy.

  It was all a lifetime ago.

  Andros’s dead stare came to mind.

  I’d made a deal with the devil, and given the same circumstances, I’d do it again.

  When my eyes opened, Patrick was staring down at me. “I was eighteen. Things happen when you’re eighteen.”

  His neck straightened. “What kind of things?”

  “Things that go beyond our control. All that matters now is that we both...” I forced a smile. “...made it to the other side.” It wasn’t all that mattered, but it was all I would say.

  Pushing myself up on my tiptoes, I gave him a chaste kiss. “That goes for you too. Your clothes...” I picked up his suit coat, feeling the luxurious wool blend and handed it to him. “...are expensive. I’ve watched you. You’re betting hundreds of thousands of dollars in the tournament. Think about where we were. There shouldn’t be any sadness. In reality, we should congratulate ourselves. We made it.”

  “Remember what you said about money and happiness?” he asked as he shrugged his suit coat over his broad shoulders.

  The two don’t equate.

  I nodded.

  “I’d trade it all to hold you every night.”

  I smiled. “You’re too kind. Sometimes what we want isn’t just out of reach, it’s too far gone.” I took a quick glance toward the windows, and while the drapes were closed, I remembered the time of year, thankful that it was January, and the sun would still be below the horizon. “Please go. I need sleep.”

  After buttoning his suit coat, Patrick removed his phone from the pocket and his expression grimaced.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “It seems I’ve missed a few things.” He shoved the phone back in the pocket. “Madeline, I can’t let you go. Say you’ll stay...at least until Sunday.”

  “I don’t know. It’s not up to me.”

  “Your driver, or whatever he is, determines your schedule? Or is it someone else?”

  I couldn’t tell him about Andros.

  That information would be his death sentence.


  There was power that surrounded Patrick. However, it was calm and strong, demanding yet accommodating. He was a giant sequoia, strong and regal, bending to the winds yet not broken. Andros was a devastating tornado or a wildfire, capable of destroying what had been unharmed for thousands of years.

  I wouldn’t let their paths cross. Patrick wouldn’t understand the brutality of the Ivanov bratva.

  I’d rather die of a broken heart, again, than bring any real harm to my first love.

  “Bye, Patrick. Please stay safe.” Because you sure as hell don’t need to be pulled into my world—you wouldn’t survive.

  He reached for the doorknob. “This is fucking harder than it was when you were asleep.”

  I nodded as tears came to my eyes. “Wait, let me check the hallway.” I pushed past him and peered into the corridor. Apparently, after four on a Saturday morning, the hallway was still empty.

  “Is the coast clear?” he asked.

  I nodded, swallowing my sorrow. That did sound like a teenage phrase. “Goodbye. I beg you not to acknowledge knowing me at the tournament, not more than simply as an opponent.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll pretend if that’s what you want, but know I’m thinking about how it feels to be inside you and the way you moan as I’m going down on you.”

  “Patrick.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “It is,” I said. “You need to go.”

  “You can pretend too, but tell me what you’ll be thinking when you see me?”

  That you’re the only man I ever loved. I didn’t say that. “I’ll be concentrating on the cards because I must win. Please...goodbye.”

  Patrick also looked both directions before slipping into the hallway. Wrapping my arms around myself, I collapsed against the door, holding back the tears. Shakily, I reached for the chain and secured the door. Turning off the light, I fell into the soft bed, surrounded by his scent.