Full Circle

by Lynne, Donya

  She giggled and closed her eyes, bowing her head. “I masturbated. I couldn’t help it. Especially after we started seeing one another.” Her face took on a dreamy quality. “I would sit at my desk, remembering how you kissed me . . . how you looked at me . . . things you said. And I could barely sit still. So, I’d escape to the ladies room, sometimes two or three times a day.”

  His fingers gripped her thighs as his mouth dropped open. “Two or three times a day?”

  She hid her face behind her hand and giggled. “Yes. You turned me into a nymphomaniac.”

  He chuckled, recalling a time or two when he’d glanced up from his place at the conference room table to see her returning to her desk, face flushed, unsteady on her feet. Now it all made sense. He leaned toward her and whispered, “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

  Her gaze met his. “What?”

  “I did the same thing.”

  Her eyes widened. “You did?”

  He nodded. “Quite often, in fact. Especially when you wore a pair of sexy shoes. Something I think you did on purpose just to turn me on.” Emphasizing his point, he skimmed his palms down her legs and closed them over her bare feet, making a mental note to add foot jobs to his confession list. “And don’t deny that wasn’t your intent when you dangled one of your sexy shoes from your toes.”

  She blushed and looked down. “Guilty.”

  “Uh-huh. I know.” He let the tips of his fingers play along her arches as his mind wandered to the time when she surprised him at his apartment in Chicago. She’d used her feet on him for the first time during that trip. Only a little, but enough that he’d almost come just watching her pretty toes curl around his shaft.

  He remembered with utter clarity telling her the next time they did that, they would use baby oil. But next time had never come. She’d teased him. She’d played footsy with him. But she’d never come as close to delivering a repeat of one of his greatest fantasies as she had that night.

  And tonight, among other things, he was going to reveal that he wanted to. He only hoped Karma would be open to that and all the rest, and that the reason she hadn’t put her feet on him again wasn’t because she hadn’t liked it the first time and didn’t want to again.

  Clearing his throat, he squeezed her feet and glanced down at the sliver of mattress separating them. “I guess it’s my turn, huh?”

  He’d never been one to shrink away from difficult discussions. In fact, he considered himself a deeply confident man. But at times like this, he wondered if his confidence wasn’t just a mask to hide his fears and insecurities. Hadn’t he considered that possibility in the year he and Karma were apart? That he’d assumed such a bold persona more as a defense than as a natural portrayal of who he really was?

  She folded her hands over her lap. “Yes. Your turn.”

  “Okay, well, I might talk a little longer than you did.” He had a lot more to say.

  She smiled and gave him a shallow, encouraging nod. “That’s okay.”

  He took a deep breath, fidgeting. “I’m not sure how to start. Like I said, I’d planned—”

  “Stop planning.” She placed her hands over his. “Don’t even think about it.” Her voice was kind, gentle. Coaxing. “Just start talking, and before you know it, you’ll find a rhythm.” She pulled her hands away and placed them in her lap again, waiting for him to continue.

  The person he’d been two years ago wouldn’t have had any trouble opening up. Old him would have seen this coming and would have headed it off at the pass. Which was sort of the point, wasn’t it? Because old him would never have even let him get to this point. Old Mark never would have let himself fall in love. He would have walked away that day at the benefit the moment he saw Karma sitting across the room in her incredible red dress if he’d known she would be the one to break through his armor and steal his heart.

  But he hadn’t walked away. He’d crossed the room and sat down next to her. He’d flirted, did the casual dancing thing with her, and then taken her up to his room. He had intended to make her another of his conquests. But before he could seal the deal, she’d bolted. And that would have been the end of their relationship had he not met her again two days later at Solar in Indianapolis. However, even then, had it not been for that one night in Chicago, he doubted he would have pursued her. By then, his heart had already belonged to her. He just hadn’t realized it at the time. But by the end of that summer, he knew he would never be the same man he’d been before they met.

  Old Mark had been dealt a fatal blow that night in Chicago. And he’d been dying a slow death ever since, giving way for a new Mark to emerge. A man whose skin he still didn’t feel comfortable wearing.

  But he was trying.

  Taking her advice to just start talking, he closed his eyes, threw out a prayer for strength, and took off.

  “After Carol left me, I fell into a really dark place.” He released her feet and reached for her hands. She slid her fingers into his palms, giving him an anchor to hold onto.

  “I know.”

  He shook his head. “That’s just it, you don’t know.”

  She blinked as her eyebrows furrowed. “But . . I thought . . . you told me about—”

  “I told you only some of what happened, but not everything. And my duplicity wasn’t completely intentional. I put a lot of what happened out of my mind. I wanted to forget all the shit I’d done.” He puffed out a derisive exhale. “And I was drinking so much, anyway, everything felt like a dream, making it much easier to forget.”

  Karma nodded tightly and licked her lips. “Okay, so why now? Why are you remembering everything now?”

  “I wish I knew, but . . . I think it has to do with you.”

  “Me?”

  “You’ve done something to me, Karma.” How could he explain it when he didn’t fully understand himself? “It’s like you woke me up from a six-year nightmare the moment I met you, and now I’m changing. I’m becoming someone else. Not exactly who I once was, but more than who’ve I’ve been. And part of this transformation is that all those memories I wanted to forget are pushing to the forefront of my mind. I’m being forced to deal with them now. Deal with the guilt, the shame . . . and the excitement.”

  Her frowned deepened. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know, and that’s why I need to explain, or at least try to. Because for whatever reason, this new person I’m becoming needs you to know. I need you to understand. You’re part of whatever is happening to me.”

  She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth then let out a shaky exhale as if she were finally beginning to see how bad some of what he was about to say could be. “I’m listening.”

  After another short pause, he continued. “Okay, so I was in a really bad place. I’d just been left at the altar, found my fiancée in bed with another man, and pretty much had my entire world pulled out from under me. I was young. I was stupid. I got a little self-destructive as I tried to find footing again.” He closed his eyes at the memories of some of the shit he’d done. “Okay, make that a lot self-destructive. I started drinking. Heavily. Somehow—and I don’t know how—I was able to keep it hidden from work . . . or maybe I didn’t and just think I did. I don’t know. All I know is they didn’t fire me. But that’s not why I’m telling you this. I’m telling you this so you know just how bad it got.”

  She scooted forward, tightening her grip on his hands. Otherwise, she didn’t say a word.

  “Karma . . .” He sighed. “It was so much worse than I ever let on. Not even Rob knows how bad I really got. I never told him. Like I said before, you’re the first person I’ve ever admitted any of this to.”

  He was risking everything. He was putting his heart on the line for the first time in over a decade—maybe even for the first time ever—and it scared the holy living shit out of him.

  “Hey,” she said, running her right hand soothingly up his forearm and back down to his wrist. “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere
.”

  She said that now, but after he told her everything, would she still feel the same way?

  “Yeah, well, you might want to by the time I finish.”

  “Give me more credit than that, Mark. I love you. Whatever you have to tell me, we’ll get through it.”

  He certainly hoped so, because now that the memories of that wretched year and a half had pushed their way back into his mind, he wasn’t sure he could even live with himself.

  “Karma, I did some awful, terrible things. Immoral things.” He sighed. “Shameful things.” For a moment, he sat silently, sorting through all the shit, deciding what he should reveal first. “Not only did I drink, but I did drugs.” Just saying it made him feel like a criminal. Like he was the lowest form of life.

  “What kind of drugs?”

  “Cocaine.” He bowed his head, shaking it. “God, this is hard to talk about.”

  She let go of his hands and cupped his face. “It’s in the past, Mark. Let go of it.”

  He met her eyes. “I’m trying. That’s why I want to tell you this.”

  Compassion filled her gaze, and she offered a tiny smile of encouragement. “Like I said, I’m not going anywhere.” She nodded encouragingly. “So, tell me. How long did you use . . . cocaine?” She said the word softly, hesitantly. As if she didn’t like how it felt rolling off her tongue.

  “Not long. A few weeks, maybe a month.”

  “And was cocaine the only drug you used?”

  “No. I did try crack once. I guess technically it’s cocaine, though, so . . .” He cleared his throat and glanced down. “But I also took a few hits of Molly.”

  “Molly?”

  “It’s a designer drug.”

  “Oh.” She bit her bottom lip as her eyes shifted awkwardly.

  “I didn’t really like how the drugs made me feel, though, so I stopped. But I was hurting. I was looking for any outlet to help me forget. So, I turned to drugs and alcohol. Then it was just alcohol. And then Rob pulled me out of the bottle, and I thought maybe I was going to be okay, but there was still something missing. I was still hurting. That’s when . . .” He closed his eyes and lowered his head, giving himself a moment to breathe before going on. He looked back up, met her gaze, and said, “That’s when I became addicted to sex.”

  She pulled back a fraction of an inch and blinked as her eyebrows lifted. Clearly, she hadn’t expected him to say that.

  “Clinically speaking, I wasn’t addicted, but I started going out with a lot of women. I wanted to replace Carol. It’s like I had this deep-seated need to find what I’d had with her with someone else, and then it just turned into something ugly.”

  God, it was a wonder he hadn’t caught some disease or gotten some girl pregnant. He’d been so reckless.

  Karma deserved so much better than a man like him, but fate had driven them together. Now he needed to come clean so they could go into their future unencumbered by the past. But right now, he wouldn’t even be able to look at himself in a mirror, he was so ashamed.

  “The things I did, Karma. I was such a hedonist, and not in a good way.”

  “Like what?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “What did you do?”

  “I think a better question is what didn’t I do?” He shook his head shamefully. “I did it all, Karma. Threesomes. Foursomes. Sex parties. I went to fetish clubs. I even paid a woman to have sex with me. Do you understand what I’m saying? I paid a woman, Karma. What kind of an asshole pays for sex?” He let go of her hands and scooted away. He couldn’t stand the thought of defiling her simply by touching her.

  She grabbed his wrist and pulled him back, pushing up on her knees and inching forward so she could close the distance between them and prevent him from turning away. “Hey, you were in a bad place, remember? You said so yourself. You weren’t thinking clearly. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mark. That was a long time ago, and you’re not that person, anymore.”

  Now it was his turn to frown. Was he in another dimension? He’d just told her he’d done drugs, done unspeakable things, and paid for a night of sex with an escort, and yet she was comforting him. She was putting her arms around him, hugging him, pressing her cheek against his.

  This wasn’t the reaction he’d expected, but he was grateful for it.

  “You deserve better than me,” he said, pushing her away so he could stroke his fingers down the side of her face. “I’m not good enough for you.”

  She cocked her head to the side and arched one eyebrow. “Why don’t you let me decide what is and isn’t good enough for me. I can assure you, if I didn’t think you were, I wouldn’t be here now. I’d probably still be with Brad.”

  Just the mention of Brad’s name sent prickles up and down Mark’s back. “Maybe you should be. Maybe—”

  “I didn’t love him. I love you. You coming back helped me see that before I made a terrible mistake and married him.” She stared him down hard, as if she were trying to burn her thoughts into his brain. “He never excited me the way you do.” She exhaled sharply. “He didn’t excite me at all, if I’m being honest. Sex was more like a chore. So what if he seemed like Mr. Perfect? Perfection is boring. There’s no character in perfection.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Brad never did a foul thing ever in his entire existence. He exercised. He didn’t smoke. He didn’t do drugs. He worked hard. He ate right. He made good money. He was a decent man. Check, check, and check.” She slashed her finger through the air three times as if drawing checkmarks. “He had everything my dad wanted me to find in a man. Everything a lot of women would give anything for. But you know what he didn’t have? He didn’t have my heart. He didn’t touch my soul. He didn’t make me feel alive. You do.”

  She pressed closer, her expression stern, eyes intense. “You came into my life, and for the first time, I actually felt alive. You made me see things in myself that I’d never seen. Things I’d taken for granted. You made me see that I am a beautiful woman. That I am passionate. That I have an inner, sexy vixen who has desires of her own. You did that. And you were able to do it because you aren’t perfect. You’ve lived hard, Mark. And living hard is sometimes ugly. But that’s what makes us who we are, changes us for the better, and gives us a greater understanding not just of life, but of the world and others.

  “So, stop beating yourself up thinking I’m going to think less of you, or that I’m going to leave, because I’m not.” She stared into his eyes. “Whatever else you have to tell me, just say it. Get it out. All of it. I promise I’ll still be here afterward. And I promise you more than deserve me, because, Mark, I’m no angel. I’m not perfect, either. But together, we are perfect. Okay? Believe in that.”

  His heart nearly exploded with the love he felt for this incredible woman he’d chosen to make a life with.

  “You’re amazing. I’ve never known a woman like you.” He’d been sitting across from her hating himself, but all she saw was a man worthy of her love. Learning the truth about his past hadn’t pushed her away, it had drawn her closer.

  She smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She sat back and slid her hands around his again. “So, what else do you have to tell me? I want you to tell me everything. It’s important that you’re honest with me, Mark. More important than any of this other stuff. As long as you’re honest, I really don’t care what you have to say. Just don’t lie to me. Don’t hide the truth. That would upset me even more than hearing the truth, no matter how painful.”

  He took a deep breath. She seemed more than ready to hear what he had to say. Might as well keep ticking down his list and see if she was as forgiving of everything and not just items one and two. “Okay, so what if I told you that even though I’m ashamed of a lot of what I did during that time in my life, there were other things that I really enjoyed? Things I wouldn’t mind experimenting with again. With you.”

  Her shoulders tightened slightly. “Like what?”

  “Have you ever heard of role-play sex?”

  She
tilted her head inquisitively to one side. “You mean, like me dressing up in a schoolgirl outfit or something?”

  If only his fantasies were so tame. “Not exactly. I like taking sexual role-play further.”

  Her fingers twisted together in her lap as she bit her lip. “Are you talking about BDSM? Like whips and chains and pain? Domination and submission?”

  He shook his head, and she let out a relieved breath. “I don’t take it that far. Think more along the lines of between the two extremes. I’m into acting out darker, more serious fantasies. Fantasies that take a little planning.”

  She grinned. “Of course.”

  He raised one eyebrow and cocked his head. “Don’t mistake my planning to mean boring or stilted. I plan these fantasies because they require a little forethought.”

  “Okay . . .” She scooted a couple inches closer. “So what exactly are you talking about here?

  He leaned toward her, smoothing his palms reassuringly over her bare thighs. “Let’s say your car breaks down on the side of the road.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Maybe your car ran out of gas. You’re miles from the nearest gas station, so you’re hitchhiking to get there, carrying your one-gallon gas can.”

  “I would never hitchhike,” she said.

  He smirked. “In my fantasy, you do.”

  Her cheeks flushed pink as she glanced down at his hands as the tips of his fingers slipped under the satin hem of her robe. “Okay . . .”

  He dragged his hands back down to her knees. “So, as you’re hitchhiking, I’d pull up and ask if you needed a ride. Of course, you’d say yes and hop in my car, even though I’m a complete stranger and we’ve never met before. We’d talk. I’d ask you where you were headed. You’d tell me some story about how you’re on your way to Vegas to become a blackjack dealer or something.”

  She smiled at his obvious reference to how they’d met. “And then what?”

  The flirty lilt in her voice reassured him. It meant she liked the idea of his fantasy. “Then the conversation would turn more personal. Maybe I would ask you how you plan to thank me for giving you a ride. Then you’d offer to pay me, and I’d tell you I don’t want your money. I’d suggest something more intimate. You might resist at first, but I’d finally wear you down. I’d pull over somewhere, and we’d have sex. Really hard, feverish, on-the-side-of-the-road sex that leaves us both shredded. Then maybe I’d take you to a hotel for the night if I don’t feel you’ve compensated me enough for my kindness. Tie you to the bed. Torture you with sex until I’m satisfied. Afterward, I’d take you to the gas station, return you to your car, help you fill the tank with your one gallon of gas, and then drive away.”