by West, S. J.
With his hands full, Mason isn’t able to push her away but he does try to step back from her. He attempts to twist his lips away from her ravenous mouth but she doesn’t allow him as she tightens her arms around his neck like a vise. Finally, Mason seems to come to his senses and phases to my side but the damage has already been done. His lips are marked with scarlet red lipstick which is smeared on his lips and up the side of his left cheek from when he tried to stop the kiss.
I stare at Mason.
My heart feels like it’s just been hammered into a million pieces and the remnants are simply trying to keep me alive. He opens his mouth to say something to me but is cut off by the shrill laughter of the woman in the blue dress as she comes up to him and loops an arm through one of his with comfortable familiarity.
“Are we playing that game tonight, amante?” The woman asks Mason in a low intimate voice, her accent Italian. “You know I will let you win every time.”
I don’t need to be told what ‘amante’ means because I already have a pretty good idea from the intimate way she murmured the word to Mason.
“Julietta, don’t,” Mason says to the woman harshly, trying to extricate his arm from hers without spilling the contents of the glass in that arm’s hand. He fails to release himself from her hold because the woman named Julietta refuses to let him go so easily.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in Venice?” She asks, completely oblivious to my presence. “I would have met you at the hotel, mia cara.”
Julietta leans her head lovingly against Mason’s arm. I feel the sting of tears burn the back of my eyes because I know what this woman is: one of Mason’s previous lovers. The realization of this knowledge spurs me into action. I turn on my heels and walk out of the room down the hallway, which I know will lead me to the entrance of the house. The further I walk the faster my gate becomes until I’m practically running for the door. I lift the front of my skirt with both hands to make my escape easier. People are staring at me as I make my retreat but I really don’t care. I just want out.
When I reach the front door, Mason is standing there to block my way. Sometime between my departure from him and now he ditched the glasses of champagne.
“Jess,” he says desperately, “let me explain.”
I just stare at him because he still wears Julietta’s red lipstick on his face.
“Get out of my way,” I order. I see him flinch at the venom in my voice but he doesn’t budge.
“Not until you let me explain.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I tell him scathingly. “I got the picture. In fact, it’s pretty much scorched in my memory forever now.”
I turn to walk away from Mason, determined to find another way out of the house when I feel him grab my arm. I instantly find myself in the parlor of our hotel room.
“Don’t touch me,” I growl at him, as I wrench my arm out of his grasp.
“Jess, please,” he begs. “I didn’t even think about the possibility of her being there tonight.”
I don’t look at him because I know if I do the look on his face might quell the anger I feel, and I don’t want to give it up so easily.
I feel like I can’t take a full breath so I rip the butterfly mask off my face, throwing it at Mason. He catches it in one hand but doesn’t pay attention to the strength he uses. The mask crumbles into pieces in his grasp. I just stare at it realizing it’s the same thing he’s done to my heart.
“Was she one of your lovers?” I ask him, finally forcing myself to look up at his face, daring him to lie to me.
I can tell he’s tried to wipe off Julietta’s lip stick but a scarlet stain still remains against his lips and cheek.
He looks at me beseechingly, as if asking me to forgive the answer he’s about to give.
“Yes. She was.”
My heart rips a little bit more.
“And is this the hotel you used to bring her to?” I ask.
He hesitates but says, “Yes.”
“In this room?”
I watch as Mason swallows hard before answering, “Yes.”
I feel the hot tears of my rage, pain and disappointment make scalding trails down my cheeks.
“How could you?” I ask him, not hiding my disappointment in him. “How could you bring me to the same place as her?”
“I honestly didn’t think about it, Jess. I always stay at this hotel, in this room, when I’m in Venice.”
I feel my anger take over for my heartache because if I let my heartache rule my emotions I know I’ll fall to pieces. I use the palms of my hands and push against Mason’s chest making him falter back from me.
“Why did you let her kiss you?” I demand. I push him again. “Why didn’t you try to stop her?”
“She caught me off guard,” Mason tells me, not trying to defend himself against my attack or my questions. “Jess, please, don’t do this. She means nothing to me.”
I hit Mason again with the palms of my hands on his chest forcing him back another step when another thought enters my mind.
“That’s why Arnoldo looked at me so strangely earlier, isn’t it? He was expecting her on your arm, not me.”
Mason doesn’t say anything to me, just stands there answering my question with his silence.
I push Mason away one final time before I turn my back to him and walk into the bedroom. I slam the door shut and lean my back against it trying to quiet the rending of my breaking heart.
Mason phases inside the room and stands directly in front of me.
“Jess, please,” he begs.
“Get away from me!” I scream at him as I push away from the door and try to walk around him to head to the bathroom.
Mason grabs my left arm. I raise my right hand and slap him as hard as I can across the face but he refuses to let me go. He pulls me back against the door wedging his body against mine so I’m pinned into place.
“Now you know how I felt,” he tells me, and I see his jaw muscles tense with an anger of his own.
I look at him like I have no idea what he’s talking about because I don’t.
“You and Chandler,” he tells me. “That time he kissed you. The way you feel now is exactly the way I felt then.”
“But he was never my lover.”
“But you’re pretending to be his. The world thinks you are.”
“Don’t even try to turn the table on me, Mason.”
“I’m just trying to make you see reason. At least Julietta means nothing to me. Can you honestly say Chandler means nothing to you?”
“He’s my friend. Of course he means something to me. But I’ve never had sex with him. And if I had, I never would have brought you to the same hotel room I used with him, the same bed. So don’t try to compare Chandler and me to you and your whore!”
I roughly push Mason away, and he stumbles back from the force of it.
We stand there just staring at one another, both of us breathing heavily.
With a determined look on his face, Mason walks up to me. I lift my arms intent on pushing him away again, but he grabs them by the wrist and pins them against the door above my head.
“I love you,” he says in desperation. “I only want you. You’re my life, Jess. Please, don’t do this. Don’t punish me for something I can’t change.”
“Is she better than me?” I ask, trying to find a way to hurt him with my words since I obviously can’t do it physically. “Does she know all the secret things you like to do in bed that I don’t?”
I see the desired effect of my questioning in Mason’s eyes. I see his hurt but find no joy in it.
“She’s nothing to me. You’re everything,” he whispers desperately.
I try to lift my arms and push Mason away with my body, but he refuses to budge this time.
I start to thrash against the door hoping it will knock him off balance but his body is like stone, unmovable.
The longer he holds me the faster I feel my anger give way to the ache in my heart
. I feel betrayed. I’ve always known Mason had other women in his life before me but having to come face to face with one of them is more than I can bear. I close my eyes and begin to cry again. I feel Mason rest his forehead gently against mine.
“Please don’t cry,” he begs. “You know how much that hurts me.”
My sobs grow louder as I let go of my restraint on them. I don’t care if my tears hurt him. I want him to feel hurt. I want him to feel my pain. I want him to know how much his thoughtlessness is costing me.
Finally, he lets go of my arms and they fall limply to my sides because I have no more fight left in me.
I feel his hands cup the sides of my face as he plants small kisses against the trail of tears on my cheeks.
“Jess,” he begs in a soft voice, “please forgive me. Please.”
He gently teases my mouth with his lips, as if he’s testing my resolve to remain angry with him.
I don’t kiss him back, but I don’t try to push him away either.
The heaviness in my heart makes my whole body ache, like I can’t move or even breathe. I want nothing more than to purge the image of Julietta kissing Mason from my mind. The mere thought of her making love to him incites some primal need deep within me to wipe her from his memory. I don’t want him thinking about her. I only want him to think about me.
I open my eyes filled with a new determination, a new need.
I grab the lapels of Mason’s jacket and yank him closer.
I look him directly in the eyes and say, “Do what I say with no questions asked if you want to prove that you’re really sorry.”
“I’ll do whatever you want,” he says and I know he means it.
“Then take me somewhere else because I’m not one of your whores.”
Mason immediately phases us to the beach house bedroom.
I let go of his jacket.
“Tear my dress off,” I order.
Mason grabs the front of my dress with both hands and rips it straight down the middle releasing me from its confining hold. He lets the remnants fall from his hands to the floor. Without the dress, I stand in front of him only wearing a pair of pink silk panties, white thigh-high stockings, garter belt and high heels.
He makes to move closer to me, but I hold a hand out and place it against his chest to prevent him.
“No,” I say, “you don’t get to touch me unless I say you can.”
Mason stands completely still and I know from this simple act of obedience he will do whatever I tell him to from here on out. I walk up closer to him and begin to remove his jacket. I can feel him watching me, but I don’t look at his face and make eye contact. I plan to choose the moment that happens carefully.
I throw his jacket on the floor and tug on one end of his bow tie, undoing the knot and slipping it off from around his neck. In one quick movement, I rip open his white dress shirt, popping the buttons onto the floor. I leave the shirt on him and begin to unbutton his slacks and let the zipper down. The pants slip past his hips onto the floor.
“Take your socks and shoes off,” I order.
Mason sits on the side of the bed and does as he’s told, without asking questions, without saying a word.
He just watches me as I step out from the middle of the ruined dress on the floor and kick it off to the side, slipping my shoes off as well.
When I look at him, still refusing to meet his gaze, I see that his body is ready for me but I don’t intend to make it that easy for him.
“Lie down on the bed,” I tell him.
Mason lifts his legs and lays his head on the pillow, still watching me, still waiting for me to let him touch my body.
“Close your eyes,” I order as I go to stand at the foot of the bed.
Mason watches me for a moment more then closes his eyes.
I push off the floor a small bit until I’m floating in the air horizontally. I twist my body in the air like a cork screw until I’m hovering a few inches over Mason’s body. I look down at him and use the tips of my fingers to lightly trace the outline of his lips. They part slightly as he exhales, finding pleasure in my touch. I trail the fingers of both my hands down either side of his neck and over the hard muscles of his exposed chest. His abdominal muscles tighten as I glide the palm of my hands down their flat planes. When I reach the band of his underwear, I use an index finger to trace the outline of his erection through the thin cloth. I hear him take in a sharp breath at my light touch on the most sensitive part of his body.
I look up to make sure his eyes are still closed before I pull his underwear down far enough to release him. Still hovering in the air, I slide them all the way down his legs so that all he has left on is his shirt. I fly back up until I’m face to face with him again. His eyes are still closed but his breathing has become more labored. I reach down between us with my left hand and wrap my fingers around the root of him.
Mason groans but keeps his eyes closed. I let my free hand trace the outline of his jaw from right to left and gently cup the side of his face in the palm of my hand.
The red stain from Julietta’s kiss still mars his handsome face, and all I’m able to see in my head is her kissing him. A myriad of unwanted images of them together in compromising positions invades my mind. The tears of my despair and hurt come uninvited and scald my eyes. They fall unhindered onto Mason’s face and he opens his eyes.
We look at each other but say nothing. I release my hold on him and roll away in the air until I’m standing on the floor by his jacket. I pick it up and slip my arms through the sleeves while I walk over to the doors which lead out to the terrace. I open them and take a step outside.
“Jess,” Mason calls to me from the bed, and I hear the desperation in his voice.
I look at him over my shoulder as I release the door handles and let them open the rest of the way on their own. I can barely see him through my tears but I feel his need to come to me.
I shake my head at him silently telling him not to. I propel myself in the air, into the starry night.
I fly through the sky over the island’s terrain not really having any idea where I’m going, just knowing I need to be alone with my thoughts for a while.
“Michael,” I call through a sob, “I need your help. Please.”
I instantly feel Michael take control of my body gifting me with time to tend to my broken heart.
Michael lands us in the glade by the waterfall Mason took me to the first night we made love. He releases control over my body and appears as a vision to me.
I sit down on the soft grass by the small pond with my legs bent up to my chin and my arms wrapped around them. Michael sits cross legged in front of me as I being to rock back and forth to comfort myself.
“I wish were you real,” I tell him, “physically real.”
Michael smiles. “I’m not the one you need right now.”
I shake my head.
“I can’t touch him without thinking about her touching him,” I say.
“Jess, you knew Mason had lovers before you. You can’t blame him for that. It’s not like he tried to hide it from you.”
“Knowing it and seeing him with one of them is completely different,” I tell Michael. “And he took me to one of his love shacks for god’s sake.”
Michael sighs. “Yes, I agree that was stupid on his part.”
I smile in spite of myself.
“But you know he loves you.”
“I know.”
“Then find a way to forgive him before you let this come between the two of you permanently. He needs you just as much as you need him.”
“What if I’m expendable to him too?” I ask, letting my real fear bubble up to the surface. “If he can throw those other women to the side so easily, what’s to stop him from doing the same thing to me?”
“How can you even ask that?” I hear Mason say behind me.
I see Michael look up over my shoulder, and I know he’s looking at Mason.
Michael looks back at me
and says, “Talk to him.”
Michael fades and I rest my forehead down on my bent knees, not wanting to look at Mason just yet.
I hear Mason walk over to me and kneel behind me. He places his hands on my shoulders and slides them down my arms until I’m completely enveloped in his embrace.
I realize the question I asked Michael is my real fear, and I feel a fresh set of tears overwhelm me as I face it.
“Jess,” I hear Mason say as he lowers his head down beside mine, “you’re killing me with your tears. Please stop crying. How could you possibly think you’re expendable to me? You’re my life.”
I lift my head and tighten my arms around my bent legs as I rest the side of my face on my knees and look at Mason.
“I’m more used to people leaving me than staying,” I say. “I guess when I saw you dismiss that woman so easily it made me wonder if you would do that to me one day. She seemed so in love with you, and you just wanted her to go away.”
“I never loved her,” he tells me. “I tried to make sure she understood what we had was only temporary. I never made her any promises, Jess. I never once told her I loved her.”
“But she’s in love with you,” I tell him.
Mason sighs. “I guess I should have paid more attention. I usually try to end things before they start to get too complicated.”
“I’m sure you’ve broken a lot of hearts.” I lift my head and he rests his chin on my shoulder as he continues to hold me. “I mean, have you seen yourself in a mirror? Who wouldn’t fall in love with you?”
“I don’t care about anyone being in love with me except for you. Can you still love me even though I was a complete idiot for taking to you that hotel room?”
I sigh and let myself relax back against him. “I’ll always love you, even when you do something stupid.”
I feel him chuckle.
Mason pulls my hair away from the right side of my neck.
“You left me in quite a bind back at the house,” he whispers in my ear. “Will you let me make love to you now, Agent Riley?”
“I believe I will, Mr. Collier.”
I turn around in his arms and kneel in front of him. I see he’s still wearing his shirt and he took time to put on his black slacks.