Center of Gravity (Marauders Book 3)

by Lina Andersson

  “I know, but it’s okay. No one cares about me being late. I just don’t wanna push it.” He looked around. “Shoes.”

  I followed him to the door where he turned around and smiled at me. I tried to smile back, but the cramp in my leg made me hold on to my cane as if my life was depending on it. We stood in silence for a while until I eventually managed to open my mouth.

  “Thank you. For... being nice about it and not making me feel like a john.”

  “It was my pleasure. And you can give me a call whenever you want me to come by.” He kept smiling and had a really great smile, and normally I’d appreciate it, but now I just wanted him out. “No need to feel like a john about it.”

  “Yeah...” I said with a tense chuckle. “Don’t think I’ll do that, but thanks.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure I’d be able to make a booty call.” In fact, I was damn sure I wouldn’t be able to do that—again. Even if I didn’t make the call the day before, it was still sort of on me.

  He stood still and then his smile grew. “Since I’m not much of a gentleman, I do make those calls. Would you mind if I called you?”

  I weighed the pros and cons. I wasn’t dating anyone, I doubted I would anytime soon, and he’d seen the leg. He didn’t seem to mind, and it had been great sex. He might not call again, but if he felt like it, I wouldn’t mind. Also, saying I was fine with it probably got him out of the apartment a lot faster than if I said no.

  “I wouldn’t mind.”

  I watched him come closer again, and he took my cane, put his arm around my waist, and then gave me a kiss.

  “What would happen if I just took this cane and left?”

  “You would have to find another booty call.”

  “Not what I meant,” he laughed. “I just wanna make sure you’re not stranded if you lost it.”

  “I wouldn’t be stranded. Just a lot slower.”

  “Good to know,” he said and handed it back. “I will call you.”

  “Okay. Now, go! I wanna have breakfast.”

  “Girl really likes her breakfast,” he mumbled, as he turned around and opened the door.

  “Girl had a grapefruit for breakfast for eleven years, she’s catching up.”

  “Grapefruit?” He stopped and looked at me over his shoulder. “You’re gonna have to tell me about that.”

  “I will. Go!”

  He laughed, but finally left. When the door closed behind him, I stared at it for a while and tried to take deep breaths. I didn’t even try to make sense of what had happened or what I’d agreed to. Instead, I pressed my foot against the door at an angle to stretch the back of my leg to get rid of the worst cramps. When I, a while later, was sitting on the floor and massaged my leg, I decided that it had been nice. Even if he didn’t call again, I wouldn’t regret it. He was right; I needed that.

  -o0o-

  Three days later, I woke up sweating from a very erotic dream. Apparently a night of sex wasn’t even close to getting my libido back into hibernation. Rather the opposite, and now it was trying to make me catch up for almost two years without sex.

  After work I met up with Lisa. I’d managed to avoid her, but she demanded to see me in her usual Drama Queen way. She was sitting in the bar and had ordered me a glass of white.

  “So you’re avoiding me, and Mitch is giving me sneaky smiles when I ask him if he called you,” she started the second I sat down. “I’m guessing he called you and then proceeded to fuck your brains out.”

  “Hi, Lisa! Did you have a good day? My day kind of sucked,” I said and took a few big gulps of wine.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’ll get to that.” She leaned forward. “He called you.”

  “Yes. He did, and I felt like a female john calling a gigolo, I might add.”

  “That’s really sad.” She held up her hand, rubbing her thumb and index finger together. “This is the world’s smallest violin playing just for you. But please, Anna, tell me you got laid. I worry about you.”

  “Yes,” I mumbled. “That’s all I’m telling you, though.”

  “That’s okay. I’m just glad you let go of some of those inhibitions.”

  “Those inhibitions can be a good thing and save you some trouble.”

  “When those inhibitions stop you from getting laid for over two years, they’re a threat to the human race.”

  “True.” I had to admit she had a point, and then I started to laugh. “Either way, that’s all you’ll get.”

  “All I wanted,” Lisa smiled. “So how was this a shit day?”

  “Just in general. People calling, being asses, and the computer system didn’t cooperate at all.” I leaned back in the chair. “How’s your love life, by the way?”

  “This doctor, who’s in charge of the trials, is all over me, but I don’t know.” She waved to the waitress. “I’ve tried the doctor thing. It doesn’t work. I’m too dominant, I just run them over, and that’s saying a lot when it comes to doctors.”

  “Sure does.” She was dominant. I knew that, doing group assignments with her had always been hell when we were in school. It had always been fruitful, and had given me good grades, but was also a little like being paired up with a blonde Hitler or Stalin. “How’s Violet?”

  “Fine!” A big smile spread on her face. “Thirty-five weeks into it, she’s fed up, her back hurts, she cries all the time, but she’s fine.”

  “Cries?”

  “Hormones. She’s sobbing about everything. It drives Mac insane, and Dad freaks out when it happens. When it all goes on at the same time, it’s like watching some weird art drama installation.”

  I decided to wait to visit Violet until the baby was born. A freaked-out Bear was not high up on my list of things I wanted to experience.

  “Is she still working?”

  “A little, mainly finishing up customers with big work, and she does it in short sessions. Sami and Trixie are totally freaking out. They think she’s gonna have the baby on the floor at the studio.”

  “She could,” I said. “Talk about being a born tattoo artist. How did she get into that by the way? She told me she was just sixteen when she started.”

  “Mac. They talked, she said she didn’t know what to do with her art, and he just suggested it. A few years later she inked him, they fell in love—all very sweet and romantic in a slightly nauseating way.”

  “Bet your mom just loved that.” Lisa’s mom, Ella, was... special, I guess would be the diplomatic way to put it. She was nice as long as you went along, and if you didn’t, she was a bitch.

  “Hated it. Especially the part about Mac. She was not the happy camper at the wedding. Didn’t matter, since everyone else was. Mel bawled her eyes out. Think even Dad shed a tear or two.”

  I found that very hard to believe. I liked Bear, but at the same time he still scared me a little. Not as much as the guy called Bull, because he terrified me. The fact that Lisa’d said I should stay far away from him hadn’t helped at all, and I was usually pretty good at dealing with imposing men. There was just a huge difference between a man being imposing in general, and standing in front of a man who you were pretty sure had killed a few people.

  “Guess it all worked out for the best,” I smiled. “How’s the research going?”

  Getting her to talk about her work was usually a fail-safe way to get her to completely forget about me, and it worked like a charm this time, too.

  -o0o-

  Irina was in the living room in front of the TV when I came home, which was an unusual thing. None of us were much for TV, and we mostly used it to watch movies on DVD. I’d never really had time for it, so I’d never developed the TV addiction that some people seemed to have. It had changed slightly after the accident, with the long days walking around at home with not much to do, but it was still usually movies, and some series. But that, too, was only on DVD because I couldn’t stand TV commercials.

  When Irina noticed me, she turned down the volume.

>   “Zvezda,” she said with a smile. “Have some tea and watch this horrible movie with me.”

  I sat down on the couch next to her, put the cane on the small shelf underneath the coffee table, and leaned back.

  “Why are you watching a horrible movie?” I asked.

  “Relaxes my brain.” She poured me a cup of gunpowder tea and handed it to me. “How would you feel about working at the ballet?” she asked.

  “Not yet, Tetya,” I said and shook my head. How would I feel about it? It would break my heart to see it and not being able to do it. “I’m not ready.”

  “When you’re ready, let me know. I might be able to pull some strings for you.”

  I had no idea what they wanted me to do, or what they even thought I could do, but just the thought of walking in there made my throat hurt. Irina must’ve noticed, and she took my hand but thankfully didn’t say anything. We sat there a while, and then, after a few mumbled words, I took my cup and went to my room.

  As soon as the door closed behind me, the first tears came. Sometimes it truly hit me—I would never dance again. I had made a split-second mistake, that was it, and I was paying for it for the rest of my life. The thing I loved more than anything was something I couldn’t do anymore.

  I sat down in my armchair, sobbing but trying to keep it low, since I didn’t want Irina to come in. When my phone rang, I considered not answering, but thought it might be good, something to take my mind off things, so I picked it up while wiping the tears out of my eyes.

  “Anna.”

  “Hey, babe,” It was Mitch, and I smiled. Maybe that was what I needed to feel better right now. “What are you doing?”

  “Drinking tea.”

  “Drinking tea on a Saturday night. Such a good girl.”

  “I had wine earlier,” I tried to defend myself.

  “Don’t try, I know you’re a good girl. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

  “You sound... you okay?”

  “I’m fine. You?”

  “I’m good. Your aunt home?”

  “Yes.” I thought about it for a few seconds. Irina took sleeping pills, so she’d be out like a light in about an hour. “I could come to you in an hour or so.”

  “Want me to pick you up?”

  “Mitch, I still have a cane, and I’m gonna be stuck with it for quite a while.”

  “Fuck, keep forgetting that. Okay, I’ll text you my address, and I’m gonna go home and clean up.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  I hung up, and half a minute later he texted me the address.

  After Irina had said goodnight, I waited another half an hour before leaving. It wasn’t that she would mind, I just didn’t want to try to explain what I was doing because I wasn’t sure myself, and at the moment I didn’t want to hear why it was stupid. Or she might get eager about me seeing a guy, and then I had to explain that I wasn’t ‘seeing’ anyone, I was having sex with someone.

  Mitch lived in one of the older apartment buildings on Main Street, not that far from the clubhouse. When he opened the door, my jaw hit the floor. It was a bright, modern, and really nice place. Along the right wall in the hallway was a staircase I assumed led up to a loft. To the left was a glass wall, overlooking a really nice terrace. His place was on the top floor, and the view from the terrace must have been great. I was stunned.

  “Wow!” I mumbled and looked through the window. “When you said you needed to clean up I assumed you were living in some stud pad.”

  “No. Dad has a thing for interior design and big open areas. I’m the same.”

  The hallway, kitchen, and living room were on the main floor, open all the way through. I stood and stared for a long time, and then Mitch was in front of me, lifting me up and kissing me.

  “So I was thinking,” he smiled against my lips, “would it be okay if I tested that famous ballerina flexibility today?”

  “It would,” I laughed. “I’ll see if I can help you.”

  Not ten minutes later, I was on my back in his bed, holding my good leg straight against my shoulder with Mitch lying on top of me. When it got uncomfortable, simply since his weight was pressing my knee against my shoulder, I moved the leg to the side of my body, hooking my arm around it.

  “Babe,” he chuckled, gave me a kiss, and put his hand on my ankle. “I really hope I get to booty call you for a while.”

  “Please do.”

  His thumb hit my clit, and I was already on my way to my first climax. He was so good at this it was ridiculous. Sure, I had a lot of pent up sexual energy, but it was still a lot him. I figured Lisa’d been right, and that the amount of practice had something to do with it. Which meant that as far as fuck buddy went, he was a very good choice.

  When the spasms subsided, I opened my eyes, and Mitch was smiling at me.

  “I changed my mind, you’re way too hot to be a good girl.”

  “I am a good girl,” I insisted.

  “Sure you are.” He gave me a kiss. “Want me to fuck you from behind?”

  “Yes,” I laughed.

  A very good fuck buddy.

  -o0o-

  Not only did he have the technique, he had the stamina, too. I was soaked in sweat and very satisfied, and despite his continuous comments about my ballerina flexibility, I actually hadn’t thought about dancing while I was at his place. I still wanted to go home and spend the night in my own bed, though. There was no way in hell I’d be able to get home the next morning without stretching, and I didn’t want to do that at his place.

  “Can I borrow your shower?” I asked as I got up.

  “Sure. Bathroom door is in the living room.”

  I brought my clothes with me, and couldn’t help looking around a little on my way there. I was still surprised about the apartment. It was so nice and not at all what I had expected. I giggled a little when I opened the door to the bathroom. It was state of the art and very fancy. It seriously looked pimped; like he’d had an actual interior decorator there to place all his bottles in a way to make it all look perfect.

  The next laugh was when I entered the shower and noticed the shampoo and conditioner. My suspicions about his ‘casual’ hairdo being carefully maintained seemed to be correct because his choice of hair products were top of the line. In fact, everything I saw in there, that I recognized, was expensive stuff. To the point where I was worried if it was really okay if I used it.

  Mitch was in the kitchen, still naked, when I came back outside.

  “I borrowed some shampoo and conditioner.”

  “Borrowed?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Planning on giving it back?”

  “Okay. I used some of your shampoo and conditioner.”

  “I assumed you would when you asked if you could borrow my shower.” He watched as I started getting dressed. “You’re leaving? You don’t have to.”

  “I wanna get back before Irina wakes up.”

  “You make me feel like a john when you just take off like that,” he said with a wink and held my cheek.

  “Guess we’re even, then.”

  He laughed and gave me a kiss. “Let me know if you have your place to yourself. Not promising I can always come, but if I can, I will.”

  I’m not stupid, so I was fully capable of seeing what he was doing. He wanted me to take the initiative, even if it was in that kind of backwards way.

  “I’ll do that.”

  He followed me to the door, still buck-naked, which was pretty nice, and I heard him lock the door behind me.

  -o0o-

  The next afternoon I was having my physical therapy, and while Brett was stretching my leg, he winked.

  “Are you seeing someone, missy? You have a very interesting glow about you.”

  “No I don’t!” I glared at him. “Seriously, how did you know?”

  “Actually, I saw you get into a cab just down the block when I got home last night. And no one who gets into a cab in a residential area that l
ate has been up to anything good.”

  “So why did you get home that late?” I countered.

  “Good girl,” he said with a wink, and started to massage my leg. “Want me to change the subject?”

  “Yes, please!”

  “I was going to ask you if you could change your lunch appointment on Thursdays to a morning appointment. I have a new patient, and we’re having some problems fitting him in. He’s only in town once a week, and can’t be here that early.”

  “I’m fine with that, but why can’t he have PT in his hometown?”

  “He lives in the middle of nowhere, and they stock up here in Greenville once a week, but I’ll let him know that it works for me. He wanted appointments around lunch. And as a thank you, I’ll even throw in a free ride with me here.”

  “That would be great,” I said and took a deep breath when he started to flex my foot because it tended to hurt a lot, and it did this time as well. “Means I don’t have to take the bus.”

  “You could drive, you know,” he said and started to pull my leg while still flexing the foot.

  “I don’t have a car, and I can’t afford one.” I inhaled sharply. “Damn!”

  “Sorry.”

  “I don’t trust that leg, either, and that’s the leg you brake with. It wouldn’t be good if it stopped working or something.”

  “It’s not gonna stop working all of a sudden, honey.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  I had thought about it, though, and I didn’t want to take any chances until I fully understood how my leg worked. It had been a long time, but it was still a mystery to me. Also, I hadn’t been driving much. I had a license, but I’d never bothered with driving in New York, and I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I was behind the wheel.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Do It Here

  -o0o-

  Mitch quickly concluded that the very tall man who looked like the Viking equivalent of a psychopath, was probably the Swedish man named Olle Örn. He had a lot of gray in his beard and hair, ice blue eyes, a big nose, and really good teeth. For a second he wondered if they were dentures because they were so straight and white. He also had something shoved up under his upper lip, making it stand out in a weird way.