by Mia Soto
Drinks are being ordered, and Mark is going to get ours. I stop him to say, “just white wine right now.” He looks at me funny but nods. He knows I’m a Cosmo girl, long before Sex in the City, but I heard some of the other women ordering white wine so I don’t want to order up a stiff one, just yet. I’m left alone to the women, and really, other than Crystal and a few of her Bebe ho friends, they seem nice enough. Crystal on the other hand has her claws bared.
“Lost anymore clients?” Her smile is pure sneer, and her friends snicker. I’m totally taken back by her rude comment. She comes out swinging. Any other time, I could verbally abuse this girl into submission, but I’m a little fragile right now regarding my cooking. She keeps going not waiting on my response. “You’re so skinny. It’s hard to believe you’re a cook.” Does she mean this as a compliment?
“Oh, I’m not that skinny.” I try to laugh it off while looking in the direction of the bar. Where is Mark and why didn’t I order a Cosmo?
“Yeah, I guess you’re really not.” Ok, it was definitely not a compliment. The Bebe hoes snicker again. The frumpy gang is either deep in conversation about the new Crocs line or ignoring us. I can’t believe how rude this girl is. I’m about to hit her with some upfront confrontation when Mark reappears. Her claws immediately retract.
“Mark, Margo is just awesome. We love her!” I guess the touch me and die look in my eyes stops Crystal from throwing her arm around me in the sisterly embrace she intends. Even the frumpy crowd looks over in shock. They must have been listening after all.
“She is. Isn’t she?” He doesn’t even look at her as he leads me away. She slinks off to attach to Alan, but her eyes never leave Mark and me for long.
“I don’t think I told you how ridiculously gorgeous you are tonight,” he whispers in my ear. It’s reassuring having his arm around my waist. Next drink run, I’m going with him. “I think every man here has asked me about you.” I smile and roll my eyes.
The couple is announced, and they dance to their first dance. The song is Air Supply ‘Lost in Love’. Normally, this kind of cheese would be open season for pot shots, but as I watch the groom look in his new bride’s eyes, I can see he loves this woman. I mean he loves her and he will, no matter what happens, for life. I start to think about my cheesy wedding song – which was “You are the Sunshine of My Life”. I’m a huge Stevie Wonder fan. Looking at this couple and thinking about how many other couples are taking their first dances tonight, my tears well. It’s what I do these days, cry at the drop of a hat. And I truly hope that this silly song is all they need to see it through. I don’t even know them, and I am hoping for them as if they are me. Then a few tears fall, and I’m trying to figure out how to wipe them without everyone, especially Mark, seeing that I’m crying. Then I have to sniffle, and the gig is up. Mark looks over as I’m wiping the tears.
“It’s not what you think,” I say annoyed at his comical look.
“Oh believe me I know,” he says pulling me over to kiss my temple and wrap me in his arms. Crystal is shooting Samurai sized daggers at me with her eyes, but my tears seem to have won a few friends in the other ladies. Crystal’s anger is perplexing. I’m pretty sure it’s Mark related which is confusing because I know she and Alan have been together as long as he’s known them. Maybe she knows Krista, his ex-fiancée.
After the first dance, Mark’s buds gather around and offer up shots of Wild Turkey to the bride and groom to toast the occasion. I smile with wide eyes…Wild Turkey. Are we doing keg stands next? Mark is part good ole boy and part man of mystery. It’s probably his time in the Corps that helps smooth out the edges, but right now he’s hanging with the good ole boys so he’s doing a Wild Turkey shot, like it or not. I opt out of the shot, but I do get a Cosmo and things get easier after that.
They have some open dancing before dinner is served. Mark is fuming in the corner with his buddies as I’m passed from father of the bride to grandfather of the groom to great grandfather of the bride to great uncle of someone. I love the old horny men. God bless them for still thinking they’re in the game. Someone has benched them, taken away their jerseys and cut their pay, but they still keep trying, and usually, they are trying with the youngest, hottest things they can get their hands on. That’s me tonight. I finally beg a break after Uncle Horace.
Mark is still in his corner as I approach. If he’s listening to the conversation swirling around him, I can’t tell because I don’t think his eyes have left me throughout my whole dance recital. He wraps me in possessively and says, “The rest of your dances are claimed.”
I hold up my hands. “I couldn’t say no.”
“I know, but that’s it. You’re mine from here out.”
“Unless Grandpa Joe asks again because he is fine.” His look is priceless. Our attention returns to the group. Crystal has me in a frozen glare that makes me finally try to get to the bottom of her attitude. I lean into Mark and kiss his neck which I can tell he doesn’t even slightly mind. Then I ask against his ear, “is there a reason why Crystal keeps giving me the evil eye?”
He looks at me and sears his mouth to mine, finally. It feels really good and almost makes me forget my question until he answers, “just ignore her.” At my perplexed look, he adds, “it’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.” He kisses me again to help erase my interest, and it works.
We get through dinner uneventfully. Someone is looking down on me because Alan and Crystal are seated at a different table. After dinner, everyone shuffles around until the dancing starts. It’s not the highest priced wedding I’ve ever been to, but there’s a lot of heart. They must have found a best of wedding dance music cd because every cheesy, but fun, dance song ever made plays. The inevitable ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ comes on. I hate this song, and I’m in acquaintance with quite a few other brown eyed girls who share my sentiment. Not one man in my history has been able to resist pulling me out onto the floor for this song, and Mark is no different. Where he is different is that he can dance. I don’t know if he’s dated another brown eyed girl, but he almost seems to have a routine to this song, and we are laughing through the dance. When it’s finished and he’s swirling me into his arms an older couple stops us.
“You two, remind us of us when we were younger.” The woman is pointing between herself and her husband. “It’s good to see that kind of love.”
I flush and Mark beams and answers for us, “thank you. Hopefully we’re together long enough to say that someday to a young couple at a wedding.” The old woman smiles and grabs his face pulling him down to her to kiss his cheeks. Everyone loves Mark.
The unavoidable slow song has come on. Enrique, Journey, Michael Buble, does it really matter? Mark pulls me into his arms with that sexy smile he has. Our dancing boils down to little more than slow swaying as he kisses me and nuzzles me and generally turns me on in front of a crowd of strangers. Thank god he doesn’t want to analyze that lady’s comments. After his last kiss, he says against my lips, “we need to leave.” I nod my full agreement.
We say our goodbyes to appreciative male smiles and frigid female disdain. We’re that obnoxious new couple that can’t take their hands off each other. I would have hated us not so long ago. Once outside, I’m half on his lap in his teeny, tiny car as both of our self controls breaks down. He pulls away and shifts me onto the passenger seat.
“Ok, we have to go,” he says almost desperately. I must look dejected – it’s certainly how I feel – because he groans and his hand snakes around my neck, and I’m back in his lap helping things get out of control. “Margo, baby, please stop!”
“Stop what?” I smile slyly. “Stop kissing you?” I ask, and then leave a clinging kiss on his mouth. “Or touching you?” My hand is wandering into dangerous territory.
“Baby, please,” is all he can say. His plea is distressed even though his mouth stays hot on mine, and his hands keep me clasped in place. He finally breaks away. “I don’t want to do this here. Someone could come out, and I
don’t want anyone to think you are anything but an outstanding lady.” That gallant sentiment only turns me on more, but he makes me sit down and even reaches across to strap me in. I guess he’s trying to ensure I won’t attack him again. We drive for awhile without talking. He looks so good I’m not sure how I’m not wrapped around him right now, and that’s not alcohol talking either.
“Well at least tell me the Crystal story,” I say. “Because I want you so bad right now, if you don’t take my mind off it I’m going to cause an accident.”
His eyes close for a moment before he laughs, “Ok, you really want to hear this?” I nod, and he laughs again as his fingers massage my nape. “It was a few months after Alan and I became partners. We all went out. Krista and I were in one of our off again moments so I was alone. I got drunk and had to crash at Alan’s.”
“You got drunk?” Tonight is the most I’ve ever seen Mark drink, a shot and two beers, over the course of four hours.
“I did. It’s not that surprising is it?”
“I don’t know. I feel like a lush when I’m around you. I’d say I’d like to get you sloppy drunk and take advantage of you but that doesn’t seem to be necessary. So I think I’d just like to do it as a social experiment.”
His hand caresses my face. “You have no idea how true that statement is.”
I look up at the light we’ve stopped at. We’re stopped at possibly the longest light in Tampa. So I un-strap and attack, and it’s hot, hot, hot.
“Baby, stop! I’m going to have to pull over if you don’t stop.” I like that he’s begging but not really stopping me.
“So pull over,” I say breathlessly.
His mouth consumes mind brutally before he answers, “no, because I want you naked and in bed. I can’t do everything I want to do to you in this car.” I think I’m having an orgasm from those words, but I sit, highly frustrated.
“So finish your story,” I say.
“I can’t even think about that right now.” He floors it, and we make it to my place in about a minute. It’s another hot and heavy session in the parking lot, and I wonder if he’s going to drag me behind the garages and end our pain but he doesn’t. He must be serious about getting me in bed. In the apartment, he carries me to my bed and tosses me onto it. I start to loosen the straps to my shoes as he takes off his coat and pulls on his tie but he stops me.
“Leave those on. I want to take every single article of clothing off you.” His eyes are on me intensely, and my stomach flops as I smile.
I kneel in front of him and brush his hands away from the Windsor knot he is working on loosening. “Let me do something.” His tie comes off, and I unbutton his shirt slowly kissing my way down his gorgeous body. “Because I need you inside of me…like now.”
He pulls me up roughly from where I’m actively trying to get him out of his pants and overwhelms my mouth with a rather barbaric, totally romantic kiss. When he finally lets me up for air, it’s to say, “I love it when you talk to me like that.”
His hands are flat on my bottom pressing me into him. I take one of those skillful hands and run it up my body to mold it to my breast. I feel his shiver since I haven’t opened my eyes yet after that last kiss. My mouth brushes his as I say, “well, there’s more where that comes from.” If I have anything sassy to add to the dialogue, it’s cut off by his fiery kiss as we tumble to the bed, and he proceeds to make complete perfection with our bodies. It’s so good I’d give up fudge sundaes for that on a regular basis.
“That was awesome.” I’m sweating and panting.
“I’m here to serve.” He is kissing all the right parts of my body.
“Well done,” I reach out to caress his cheek as he lays his head next to mine. We get all serious which makes me nervous that we’re heading for a serious conversation so I try to head it off with something else. “Do I get to hear the rest of this Crystal story?”
“I don’t know. I said I loved you again, and I still haven’t heard anything back.” He counters. I sigh and turn my face away, but he makes me look at him. “Margo, you’re making me crazy. I’m the one who’s usually afraid of those words. I mean why do you think Krista and I floated about for so long? Every time she started talking about marriage I started talking about second tours in Afghanistan.” He laughs softly at my surprised look.
“With you,” he shakes his head. “I can’t even imagine being away from you for that long. I’d do it, but it would kill me. If worrying about you didn’t drive me over the edge then missing you…and this body would.” He’s kissing the swell of my breasts gently. “And the way you collect men, the jealousy I’d be consumed with.”
“I’m not that bad.” I’m a little offended at that. Without our agreeing to it, or expecting it, I’ve been faithful to him, other than the odd off Camilo kiss. And even those have ended. Every time Camilo calls me lately, I find an excuse not to run. But I don’t want to argue that point right now, so I push him back and start gently kissing his face all over. “Anyway, I don’t think I could be with you if you were still in the Marines. I can’t handle that kind of worry. It’s hard enough dealing with what you do right now. For that matter, I’m still trying to figure out how to blow up that motorcycle of yours.” He smiles. I guess I’m giving him the answers he wants in a round about way.
He is running his hand down my body as he says, “I’m laying my soul bare for you, you know. But I know you feel it too. I just don’t know how to make you not afraid of it.” I’m enjoying kissing his body, and he obviously doesn’t mind. He gathers my hair away from my face so that he can see me. “You’re so beautiful. Every man at that wedding noticed you. And I bet a whole bunch of them would break some vows for you. As the man who likes to think you’re my girl, that’s a hard line to walk between pride and fear. And I want the world to know you’re mine and how much I love you and want to marry you.” I must look full on panicked because he laughs. “Yeah, I do, Margo. So you deal with it because you’re it. You’re what I’ve been trying to figure out. I can’t believe how much I love you, and I do want to marry you and I can’t say any of it. I know if I say something that drastic you’ll pack up and leave for Alaska in the middle of the night. And I don’t want to live in Alaska.” My forehead is resting on his chest by the time he finishes, and I finally find the courage to raise my gaze to his.
“Mark.” His smile stops me. “I love your smile.”
“You do?” He seems surprised. I nod, and he says with a laugh, “that’s a start.”
“And I love your mouth. You are the best kisser.” He reminds me of how good he is at it for a moment. I kiss his chest and say, “I love this heart. It’s too good for me.” He lifts my head from where I’m placing soft kisses on his chest, and he’s not smiling anymore. His blue eyes are piercing me. “And those eyes, they’re perfect. I can see your soul in them.” I’m trying to keep my voice calm and tears at bay, and as always, he can tell. He pulls me up to him for a soft, sweet kiss. Before he can speak, I say, “You’re perfection. And all I want to do is protect you from me. Because I don’t want to be the reason your heart breaks.”
He can’t even know that breaking up with a long time girlfriend is not the same as ending a marriage that has yielded a child. Just two years ago I wouldn’t have understood this. It’s the sort of thing you have to live through to really get. In spite of me, a few tears spill, and I have to wipe them.
“I can take care of myself, and if you let me, I’ll take care of you.” His look is so sincere as he says this. And it’s the sort of wonderful sounding sap that means nothing when you’re knee deep in a real relationship. But since we’re still in the magic phase, I’m going to let myself enjoy those words.
It’s time to lighten the mood so I wipe a tear and say, “Can this be one of those you make love to me all night, nights?”
He puts on his sexy smile as he asks, “would you like one of those?” I nod slowly with my own smile and he laughs, “like I said baby, whenever, where
ver.” Then he reminds me again why, if this ever ends, I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking for a lover like him.
We’re falling asleep all wrapped up together when I ask, “so you’re not going to tell me this Crystal story?”
He jumps. I guess he was asleep. “It was nothing. She slipped into my bed in the middle of the night offering up much more than just hospitality. I left and now every time she gets drunk and brave I get an earful of how she’d leave Alan for me without a second thought.”
“Yikes.” I understand now. “So I said you needed protection from me…but it sounds like you might need some help with her. Just so you know I’ve got your back baby.”
I feel his chest contract in laughter, “Crystal could take you down with one swing, baby. Don’t let those skinny arms of hers fool you. She’s all street.”
“I’m tough. I have brothers.” He’s right. I have no idea how to fight.
“I appreciate it, but don’t go picking any fights. You won’t win, and I might not be there to save you.”
I smile and nestle into him. “Of course you’d be there. You’re Prince Charming.” I’m already asleep as I feel his kiss on the crown of my head.
Chapter 11