by PE Kavanagh
She looked over at the band and gave them a 4-beat.
I couldn’t believe what my baby sister was doing. How had my sisters gotten such balls? Both of them. I must have gotten all their share of self-doubt.
Nora certainly received a less than normal share of insecurity. She’d been sure of herself for as long as I could remember. When she and Sam met, it was as if they both fell under the same spell, simultaneously. There was no doubt that they would be together. She never appeared in any way uncertain that their feelings were real or that they were meant to be together.
In stark contrast, I’d questioned every relationship I’d ever had. Either thinking it was more than it was, or downplaying it if it was too intense. I’d never gotten it quite right. Would this be my time to know? Could I let go of all my mental gymnastics and use my instincts to experience this man? The magic of our night together filled my thoughts. This was indisputable.
All of me, why not take all of me.
Lizzy was singing our favorite song. Tears pressed against my eyes, again. Of all of us, she had inherited the most of Mom's talent and the crowd couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Shocked delight filled the expressions of everyone in the room. She could easily have pursued a professional career, but chose not to. No interest, I supposed. But singing made her happy. And now it was making all these people happy too.
I glanced over at Esteban, who I thought would start crying, even before me. That guy had fallen for my sister, hook, line and sinker. Whatever her spell was, it landed on the right guy. Without knowing the words, he was even trying to sing along.
Nora and Sam were happily singing. She and I knew this song forward and backwards, and Sam had been the unwitting recipient of our many impromptu song and dance concerts.
The bride and groom rose to dance. They extended the song out, and Lizzy did some amazing jazz riffs. That girl was killing it.
I turned my gaze slowly to Marco. Instead of watching Lizzy, he was looking at me, smiling.
“This is your song. I remember from the other night. How wonderful.”
“Yes, she's amazing, isn't she?”
“Yes. Both of your sisters are superstars. It must be hard.”
I didn’t quite understand what he was saying and gave him a confused look.
“It must be so hard to be as nearly perfect as they are, and still pale in comparison to you.”
“Aren't you overflowing with compliments tonight?”
Marco tenderly swept the hair off my cheek and held my face.
“I’m overflowing... yes... with something...”
His expression was very serious.
“What is it?” I was terrified to ask but did anyway.
“You don't know? I thought you would.”
I was sure I stopped breathing. “Tell me... please.”
“Yes. I will...”
The room erupted in applause, shocking both of us back into the moment. I could only imagine what he was about to say to me.
Marco, Esteban and the groom’s other brothers invite everyone up to the penthouse after the reception. The guys had ordered a beautiful spread of snacks and champagne, expecting a significant crowd. At least fifty people, mostly family members, came up, and the party lasted until the wee hours. I was greeted as if I was the woman of the house, and I played the part. Marco and I were the consummate host and hostess.
His friends were wonderful to me, treating me as if I was already family, and forgiving my terrible Spanish. Apparently Marco had told them a bit about me, or the news had spread some other way, and there was a great deal of interest about me and my sisters.
Lizzy received the most attention, after her superb performance, and loved every minute of it. She would have made a stupendous celebrity.
As the crowd began to disperse, Lizzy disappeared first - I’m sure she was absolutely exhausted. She let me know that she’d be staying a few extra days with Esteban. Then Nora let me know that she and Sam were going to take a few extra days as well, maybe going up to the Grand Canyon or Hoover Dam.
I wished I could have stayed too but I needed to get home to my girls. I missed them so much. And Marco had to be in New York the rest of the week, so I would have been on my own anyway.
Nora and Sam slipped out, followed by a slow trickle of the remaining guests. There were a few stragglers left as Marco took my hand and led me to the bedroom. We turned to face each other and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me securely, swaying slightly as if the music was still playing.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight.”
“Thank you for inviting me. Inviting all of us. It was a spectacular wedding.”
“Because you were there.”
“Marco, you say the most beautiful things. Sometimes I just can't believe my ears.”
“I know you doubt me.”
“I don't... that's not what I meant.”
“You doubt what is happening here, between us. But what will you do when I have fallen in love with you?” Out of left field, this one stopped my heart and froze my body. “Will you believe me then?”
I buried my head in his neck, afraid to look at him. I couldn’t speak.
“I know... it's not a question you can answer, is it?”
There was nothing I could say.
Marco stepped behind me and began to slowly unzip my dress. His hands, breath and mouth filled the spaces where the shimmery blue fabric had fallen away. He moved down my body, until he landed on his knees.
“That ass of yours, Bella… it’s quite miraculous, you know.”
“Glad you like it.” I was surprised at my ability to be humorous considering all that was happening in my body.
Then he bit me. The sting mingled with the pleasure and I gasped. He was biting, licking and sucking me like a peach. “You are going to let me have it one day, aren’t you?”
It was my intention to answer, but then he slipped one of his fingers between my cheeks and began to slide it along the length of me. A shiver covered my body.
“Marco…”
His fingers kept moving, eventually finding the warmest, wettest part of me. Just a few strokes dissolved me, but instead of lingering there, he began to move his finger back toward my bottom, and paused.
“You can have anything you want, Marco. Any part of me you want.” He could have entered me right then, no part of me off limits to him.
“I'm so glad you said that, Bella.” Instead of pressing the finger that was massaging my bottom, he removed his hand completely. I gasped again, because of its absence.
He took my hips and spun me around, so that his face was now directly in front of my pussy. I began to understand what he was referring to.
He ran his nose and lips down the small line of hair that ended at the opening of my lips. My knees buckled and I realized I was still in my heels.
“I can’t stand up, Marco.”
“Yes…”
He moved the pooled fabric of my dress away from my ankles and helped me out of my shoes, kissing my feet and ankles. It gave me time to contemplate what he wanted to do, the one thing I’d stopped him from doing. Before now.
As he rose off his knees, and kissed me, I knew I couldn’t possibly resist him, no matter how self-conscious I felt.
We moved to the bed like a couple approaching the shore, stepping in with anticipation, enjoying every wave and tickle of the warm water.
I laid myself down, knowing I was going to allow him where I previously had not. Beginning with my toes again, he kissed, licked and sucked nearly my entire body, until landing between my legs. My hands instinctively began to push him away, even though my body was on fire for him.
“Let me taste you, amor. Let me please you…”
I released the tension in my arms, and his head descended. All I felt was the warmth of his breath, as he kissed me lightly. This was such a scary, vulnerable place for me – I hardly allowed any men there – and I couldn’t bear to look at him.
I opened my eyes to see him smiling, with his eyes. His tongue moved over me, slowly, like a child with an ice cream cone. I wanted so much to turn away, to stop the rush of what I was feeling, but I couldn’t. He continued to stroke me with his tongue, as he had done with his fingers. It was working. My body responded, despite the situation in my mind.
He increased the pressure, and drew me strongly into his mouth. His tongue pushed inside me while the brush of his whiskers tickled my skin. Then somehow his thumb replaced his tongue, and he was sucking on me tenderly and insistently. When his thumb pressed upward, from the inside, I knew what the outcome will be.
“Marco! Oh my God!” Was it really possible that I was coming like this?
Not only possible, but undeniable. I found myself floating in some other world, unable to stop the waves of pleasure coursing through me.
He nuzzled the inside of my thighs as I recovered, whispering ‘Mi amor’ between each kiss. I was incredulous when I felt the heat rise again. His slick thumb moved downward, now between my cheeks where he had begun this exploration.
“Do you like me touching you there?”
“Yes, Marco. I do.” It was very hard to speak.
“Good,” he said as gently pressed the tip of his finger inside me.
My body, which he seemed to know better than I did, had left my domain and become his instrument. Layers of self-protection and shame dissolved under his hands and mouth.
And then he spoke the thoughts in my head.
“I want to be everywhere in your body at the same time.”
He rose onto his knees and wrapped his arms around my waist to pull me up to him. When I reached down to wrap my hand around his cock, he closed his eyes and moaned. He sat back onto his heels and placed me astride him, as I had been the first night we stayed together. He expertly guided my body onto him, and moved me, with his arms around my back. The shock of feeling him enter me had not faded at all since the first time, and watching him try to manage his arousal nearly brought me to the edge again.
We were face-to-face, as bare as two people can be. There was nowhere I could look other than his loving eyes.
He stayed present and patient as I found my way, battling my demons and letting my body experience him.
My moans grew louder, as he remained quiet and controlled, waiting for me.
“Tell me what I can do for you, Bella. What makes you happy?”
“You seem to already know what to do.”
“Let yourself go, amor. Let yourself hear what my body is telling you.”
We rolled in an orgasm that moved back and forth between the two of us for minutes. When I wanted to break contact, he took my face and made me see him. This was an intimacy I’d never experienced.
We filled the night with an entire sexual repertoire, finding each other over and over again. My previous difficulty with orgasms during sex faded into memory as he showed me how easy it could be.
He succeeded at demonstrating with his attention and passion what I couldn’t hear in words. I trusted him with my body, and now my heart.
“I believe you,” I whispered as he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Shaky Ground
The morning came in a flurry, with both of us flying out, him to New York and me back home to San Francisco.
In the limo to the airport, a whisper of insecurity filled my body. Would this be the end?
I was compelled to ask. “What’s next, Marco?”
“What’s next… hmmm. Well, we spend these next few days apart, which will be terrible, then I return home on Friday and we… begin.”
“We begin?”
“Yes, Monique. We begin the rest of our lives.”
This was utterly romantic, but I was looking for something much more concrete.
“Marco, perhaps it’s too soon to make declarations, but I kind of need to know what… what’s happening with us.”
“What would you like to happen with us, Bella?”
“I should have known you would turn it around.” I sighed. “Fine, I’ll go first. I want to see you, to be involved with you. I am… not interested in seeing anyone else.” That had been excruciatingly difficult.
Marco smiled. “That was hard for you. Thank you for doing it anyway.”
I wish I could have controlled how transparent I appeared to be. “And you?”
“I am yours, Monique. There is no one else in my life. Just us.”
I let myself exhale, happy that the moment was over.
The scene at the airport unfolded like a bad romantic comedy, neither of us wanting to let go of the other's hand. I spent the entire plane ride reliving my fantastical weekend. Could this really have happened? It didn’t seem possible.
It didn’t matter that I was alone - no sisters, no Marco - I was plenty busy with my thoughts. Landing home began the frenzy of real life, and my arms filled with my beloved girls before I knew it. They wanted to know everything, and I told them some. They knew me so well, I couldn’t hide anything. But I did try to tone it down.
I told them about Nora’s wonderful award ceremony and how we got invited to a wedding and how aunt Lizzy sang in front of everyone. I only mentioned that we had met some nice people – men – briefly.
Marco called as soon as he landed. “I miss you. I can't believe you were in my arms just a few hours ago and now we are thousands of miles apart. How are the girls?”
“Happy to see me. And I’m happy to see them too. We have a very full and busy week.”
He had to run off to a dinner meeting, and we promised to talk the next day. “Buenos noches, mi amor.”
We spoke every day, sometimes several times a day. He asked about my progress in my restaurant endeavors and I asked about the big project he was working on in New York. I couldn’t wait for him to get home over the weekend. We had a big date in the city all set up.
On Friday afternoon, right before he was supposed to get on the plane, he called. He sounded terrible, and there was quite a bit of background noise. Like a train station. Or hospital.
“Where are you?”
“I’m sorry Monique, I won’t be able to fly back tonight.”
He sounded awful. As if he was in shock. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, but there's something here I have to take care of. I need to call you back later, okay?”
“Are the boys alright?” All these thoughts were running through my head: There has been an accident. He was in trouble. Something really, really bad had happened.
“Yes, they're fine. I’m sorry, I have to go now.”
I didn’t hear from him for two days. The nightmare began to take shape. He was a criminal, a drug lord maybe. He had a wife and children in New York that he neglected to tell me about. The stories came nonstop from my vivid imagination. I couldn’t understand what would have caused a man to completely disappear.
I felt as if I was losing my mind, filled with desperation and rage. A burning ache blossomed in the middle of my body where I anticipated his disappearance would live. All I heard in my head was, You knew this was going to happen. It was all too good to be true. He's probably some sort of psychopath, on the run from the law, and you just got dumped.
When I saw his number pop up on my phone, I was honestly shocked. I was sure he had disappeared.
“Hello,” I answered in as neutral a tone as I could muster.
“Mi amor. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to call.”
“What's going on, Marco?” Stay calm, stay calm.
“I can't really talk now. It's okay. Please don't worry.”
“I wish you could tell me. I don't understand.”
“I know. But I have to go now. I will try to get home in a few days. Then we can talk. Goodnight.”
A few more days of stewing and I started to unravel. My sisters asked me what was
going on and I couldn’t even tell them. I had no idea, except that my magic carpet had been brutally pulled out from under me. I could hardly do anything but worry, projecting the worst possible scenarios.
It was two more days before I heard from him again. I tried very hard not to sound crazed on the other end of the line.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“I'm alright. I’m coming home tonight.”
“Oh, good. Have a safe flight.” I knew he could hear the sharpness in my voice. Anger was the only thing holding me together at that point.
“I know you are angry darling. It's just... we will talk when I get home.” I heard the flight announcement. “I will call you. Bye.”
I couldn’t tell if it was rage or despair fueling the breakdown I was destined to have. Something big was going on. I knew it. I cried the rest of the night.
I didn’t want to fall asleep, afraid of missing his call, but it was unnecessary. I didn’t hear from Marco again until the next afternoon.
If I ever see him again, I screamed at no one, I am going to let him know exactly how unacceptable this behavior is! I will not tolerate being treated like this!
Part of me wanted to believe that he would stroll into my house with a perfectly good excuse that would inspire my immediate forgiveness. The rest of me knew that something traumatic was about to happen. I prepared myself for the worst and began to justify the whole experience.
The story I rewrote sounded like this: It was a fabulously romantic and sexy affair. Like a summer fling, but shorter. I couldn't expect that someone would fall in love with me that quickly. What I was feeling was just lust. Just like Nora said. It had been a long time, and I just wasn't used to having sex. Great sex. It was all merely an excess of hormones causing my delusion, which would soon pass. He was not the man for me, especially if he had all this drama in his life. No, certainly not. I had more than enough drama already.
I told myself I wouldn’t take his call, if it ever came. I’d make him wait and see how he liked it. Then he would know. Then he’d come running back. The irrationality of my theory made no difference to me.