On the third day of his trip, he returned to the hotel just after six p.m. He had barely had time to exchange texts with Marika for his client had monopolized much of his day with trivial matters. But he had also noticed that she had not reached out to him. He tried to ignore the fact but he was slowly becoming alarmed by her silence. By the time he pushed his way into the single room at the Ramada, he was mentally drained. He sent Marika a message telling her that he was finally done for the day but she did not respond immediately so he decided to jump in the shower. You’re just overtired. A hot shower will clear your head and relax you. As soon as you’re done, she would have texted and you’ll see you’ve just been acting paranoid. As he disrobed, he examined himself critically in the full-length mirror. As steam filled the small bathroom, he looked at his slightly overweight form. He was tall, over six feet and for that reason, he was able to carry a bit more than the average person but he still needed to lose fifteen pounds and he had since childhood. Despite Mary-Anne’s attempts to enforce strict diets upon him with tasteless, low calorie foods in his teens, it seemed that Jon was destined to remain pudgy.
“If you would get your ass off the computer and hit the gym once in a while, you wouldn’t be such a lardo, lardo,” Chris had told him on numerous occasions but Jon had about as much desire to join a health club as he did for a root canal. His stomach was too flabby and his arms and legs needed toning. He had a nice face, large, brown eyes which reflected intelligence and warmth. His cheeks were round, again from slightly too much fat but when he smiled, he produced dimples on both sides of his generous mouth. Of all his features, Jon was complimented on his smile the most. His teeth were perfect, something even his older brother could not claim, straight, white and even. While Chris and Tristan were very fair, with lighter brown eyes, some Native American ancestor had donated a tan pigment to Jon’s complexion, branding him with a swarthy air. If a passerby did not look too closely, they might catch a glimpse of some warrior aura in his make-up. Even after spending minimal time in the California sun, Jon was already turning bronze but he knew that he would lose the parlor when he returned to the freezing Connecticut winter the following day.
Mist had swirled throughout the small washroom, covering the glass in which he was staring. Jon slipped into the shower. His phone was perched on the counter in case Marika returned his message but by the time he had finished washing the day’s grit from his body, she had still not replied. Slightly concerned, Jon tried again after he had dressed in his pyjamas. He had planned to go to the hotel restaurant for supper but he was insurmountably tired. He opted instead to order a pizza and he was hoping to speak with Marika on the phone before bed. He desperately longed for the sound of her charming, lilting accent. Her language mistakes delighted him and although she insisted that he correct her English, he refused.
“Jon, I can’t making good speaking if you don’t telling me vat I doing wrong. How can I changing if you don’t helping me?” she had told him sternly.
“I don’t want you to ever change,” he had told her honestly.
Jon waited for a few more moments and then reached for the phone book on the desk beside his open laptop. I wonder what she is doing, Jon thought as he flipped through the Yellow Pages looking for a local pizza parlor. Jon had ensured that he had left her enough money to go shopping and entertain herself in his absence. He had even left her his platinum Visa card for emergencies. He was suddenly wondering if he had made another huge mistake. Jesus Christ, she’s probably taken my card and gone to Hawaii or something. She was just waiting for me to get comfortable so that she could run off with my money. Why don’t you ever learn? What is wrong with you? You need to see a shrink. You have a problem. Woefully, he slammed the book shut, no longer hungry as panic filled his stomach. Why do you let yourself fall for these women? He was furious with himself. What is wrong with being alone? Lots of people are very happy alone. Why do you feel the need to put yourself through this repeatedly?
Jon stood up and began pacing the room. I’ll check my credit card statement online. If there is weird activity, I’m going home. He didn’t need to stay until the next day. His flight was booked for 11 a.m. but his business with his client was finished. I need to go home and see if she’s still there. I’ll call and see if there’s a flight out of LAX tonight. Making his decision, he sat back down, looking at his phone again hopefully. There was still no reply from Marika. Sighing, he punched in his passcode to his computer and opened the screen to his web banking. As he typed in the credit card information, dread growing in his stomach, he was interrupted by an incoming Skype call. He did not recognize the caller and his immediate impulse was to ignore it but he realized it might be one of his clients. Gritting his teeth, annoyed at the disruption, he answered.
“Hi Jon.” Relief and happiness threatened to suffocate him as he saw Marika’s smiling face appear on screen.
“Hi! You’re okay! I was worried about you!” he choked, excited and slightly ashamed at his lie. Her brow furrowed.
“I am sorry to have vorrying you. I have busy day today.”
Jon nodded understandingly but his mind was racing. What were you doing? Why didn’t you text me?
“Me too. I’m glad you’re fine. What did you do?” he said instead, forcing his rogue mind to ease.
“Oh…just some things,” she replied evasively and Jon realized he did not recognize the background behind her.
“Where are you?” he demanded with more sharpness than he intended. She looked surprised.
“I am home,” she answered, looking confused but as Jon leaned forward to take a closer look, Marika obstructed his view by placing herself directly in front of the webcam.
“Are you sure?” he asked suspiciously but Marika laughed, adjusting the screen.
“I am sure,” she replied. “I am in bedroom.”
Again, Jon was confused.
“Whose bedroom?”
“Jon, I am at your home. How are you doing?”
Jon tried to stifle his worry but it lingered in the back of his mind. Marika adjusted the screen to allow for the screen to take in her curves. For the first time, he realized that she was wearing only a filmy negligee. He quickly averted his eyes in embarrassment.
“Vy do you looking away?” she asked. “You do not liking?”
Jon nervously cleared his throat and nodded eagerly, his face heating as he took in her full breasts pushing against the thin fabric.
“You look beautiful,” he breathed, feeling himself grow hard in his flimsy pajamas. Marika smiled, showing white, perfect teeth and nodded.
“I miss you,” she told him, her hands slowly circling her graceful neck, fingertips tracing her slender clavicles. Jon cleared his throat again.
“I miss you too,” he replied, shifting uncomfortably in the office chair in which he sat. Her hands found their way to the satin straps on her shoulders and she began to lower them, the cloth slowly slipping down her full bust, exposing small, hard nipples. He could see small goose bumps forming on her smooth bust and the skin surrounding them.
“I wishing you are here with me,” she whispered. She stood, allowing the nightgown to fall to the floor. He took in her flat stomach, curvy waist and small tuft of dark blonde hair between her perfectly sculpted thighs. Heart hammering, he watched as she lifted the laptop and with her breasts at the camera, she walked to the bed. She lay the computer at the foot of the bed and slipped onto the sheets, staring into the camera.
“What are you doing?” Jon heard his voice ask, in spite of himself. He regretted the words as soon as they were spoken but Marika only smiled again, her tongue darting out to lick her luscious lips.
“I am to show you vat is vaiting for you ven you come for home,” she told him. She reached over to the bedside and picked up a bottle, unscrewing the caps and pouring a small amount of liquid into her palms. Drops fell from her fingers like oily rain against her flawless skin and she began to rub it over her bouncing breasts, deliber
ately tracing her tongue about her mouth she continued to look into Jon’s eyes. His heart hammering, his own hands shifted his manhood as he watched Marika’s touch move down her body toward her hips, shiny streaks making a trail as if to guide his gaze. Her long fingers were at her crotch now, parting her sweet lower lips apart, showing a gleaming wetness.
“Oh,” Jon moaned as his erection jammed against his pants. He could not stop himself from releasing his intense throbbing member from its confines and into his waiting hand. He willed himself to have self-control as Marika began to gently rub at her button, her sensual mouth parted, her tongue darting about her between her teeth as her breath quickened. But as one finger became two and the intensity increased, Jon felt himself slowly stroking himself along to her rhythm, wishing desperately that he was the one making her moan. Her index and middle finger swirled in the juices seeping from her and suddenly she dipped them inside her, her nipples rubber balls of pleasure now. In and out, she inserted her long fingers, her free hand still caressing her model-like body, running over her moaning lips and teasing her rigid nipples. Her eyes began glazing over and her tongue moved faster over the red, parted mouth. Jon’s breathing matched hers, his hand picking up speed against his organ. He was going to cum but he did not want Marika to stop what she was doing. Her hand picked up motion and she was fingering herself roughly now, gasps escaping her lips as her body tensed. Jon could not stop himself, leaning forward to stare as Marika began to orgasm by her own hand. A slow moan escaped her lips and Jon felt an incredible tension in his sack as hot streams of cum flowed from him onto his pants. In unison, the two grunted, their liquids spilling forth. Jon sat frozen, covered in stickiness, his eyes glued on Marika’s hypnotized face and lowering to watch as fluid licked her inner thighs in trickles. A sweet sigh escaped her and slowly, she removed her fingers from her depth and sat up. The haziness seemed to fade from her eyes and she smiled at Jon, lifting her soaked fingers to her lips and sucking them. He was lost in the intensity of her ethereal eyes, still consumed with heat.
“Come home soon,” she told him and disconnected. Jon was left paralyzed, staring at the computer screen long after she had signed off. She loves me, he told himself. She didn’t go anywhere! She wants me and she wants to be with me. She is going to be there when I get home!
He rose to his feet and went to wash himself, his legs trembling slightly. I was worried about nothing. I didn’t push her. She came to me all on her own. She really is mine. He stopped to look at himself in the mirror over the sink and he immediately averted his eyes guiltily. He realized was trying to ignore the fact that he did not recognize the bedroom where Marika had been sprawled.
“Marika” had been extremely busy in Jon’s absence. When he had brought up the business trip, she had seen her opportunity and seized it. From the moment he had left for the airport, she had not stopped, barely sleeping in her rush to get everything accomplished. It was a blessing that Jon had not gone online to check his credit card statements for he would have been in for a shock. Marika had spent thousands of dollars, more than she had intended but once she had gotten started, she had been unable to stop. She had been riddled with guilt at the initial use of the credit card in which she had been entrusted but she had silenced the condemning voices in her head. It is necessary, she justified. It must be done.
She sat staring at her cell phone, waiting. She knew Jon would be home soon. I wonder if he will be angry, she thought, a sick feeling of worry in her stomach. She again pushed the dark thoughts out of her head. Well it is too late now. He must learn to accept it whether he likes it or not. There are going to be some changes around here and he needs to adapt.
Jon texted to say he was at Bradley International Airport and was on his way home. When he arrived at his apartment, he found Marika outside the door, pacing the hallway, biting her nails.
“Marika, what are you doing out here?” he asked, rushing toward her. “Did you lock yourself out?”
She shook her head and embraced him nervously.
“I…I doing something vile you leaving,” she confessed breathlessly. “I spending all your money.”
Jon pulled away from her hug, feeling his blood drain into his shoes. She’s just like all the rest of them. Of course she is. She is too beautiful for you. She deserves someone more attractive than you. Don’t lose control. It is not her fault you are a lard ass. Don’t let her see you get upset. Just send her on her way. She only wanted money after all. You saw this coming so you can’t be that surprised. You can cry when you’re alone.
“It’s okay,” he replied, gravely, reaching for the doorknob. “You wouldn’t be the first to do it.”
Marika looked confused. Her brow furrowed and she stared at him for a moment.
“But – you don’t even knowing – “she started.
“I’m sure it was very noble. You needed it for astrophysics school or something equally important,” Jon said, his voice caked in sarcasm and pain. She immediately sensed his despair but she did not comprehend his reaction.
“I don’t understand,” Marika told him. He doesn’t even know what I’ve done. I cannot imagine why he would be sad!
“Yeah, I bet you don’t,” Jon answered grimly. He had been waiting for the other shoe to drop since Marika had arrived. The previous night, he had laid awake thinking about her immaculate skin, her infectious smile and the bedroom he didn’t know. He knew something bad was coming, he could feel it in his bones. He had hoped to prolong the inevitable, at least for a short time but it seemed that Marika was determined to lay it on him as soon as possible.
“You can take whatever I bought for you and – ” Jon started to say as
he threw open the door to the apartment. Abruptly, he started in shock. His mouth dropped open. He looked at Marika and then back inside, his mind unable to reconcile what he was seeing with reality.
“I am sorry. I did not thinking you vould be so angry,” Marika whispered from beside him, tears filling her lovely eyes in shame. Slowly, Jon stepped inside his front room staring dumbfounded at his surroundings. It had been completely redecorated, new furniture replacing the mismatched, worn futon and chairs. A black leather sectional surrounded a mounted flat screen with two wooden end tables and the matching coffee table. Tasteful artwork graced the walls, mostly still life and landscapes, all in warm tones. Somehow, Marika had even managed to paint the living room a soft olive green, warming it from the sterile white it had always been. She had ordered a classic table and chair set for the dining room, and an island with barstools for the kitchen. Everything was handcrafted in wood and gave the apartment the feel of a farmhouse. The window treatments had been replaced with heavy drapes which were drawn to allow for the glorious view from the seventeenth floor. As if seeing it for the first time, his breath was stolen by the beauty of the sight. Jon slowly made his way through the apartment, he saw that Marika had redecorated the main bathroom. It was a soft mauve with white accents and she had bought matching bath matts and towels to accessorize.
“I didn’t going in your office,” she told him after realizing he was thrilled by the changes. “I knowing men are private about office.”
“Oh, no I’m glad you didn’t go in there. It’s a mess and I barely know where anything is now. This is amazing, Marika! I don’t know how you got all this done! Did anyone help you?” She shook her head and shrugged modestly.
“I have no one to helping me here. Anyway, I having fun,” she told him as they kept walking through the condo. Jon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, thinking he heard a hint of wistfulness in her tone but she only smiled happily as the tour continued. Finally recognized the room where Marika had been the previous night. Gone was his double bed and dilapidated mattress without a box spring. In its place was a king-sized sleigh bed. It too, had been painted but a deep, blood red, infused with black and silver as accents. There was something extremely sensual about the darkness of the room and Jon could feel his heart begin to race wi
th the promise it seemed to hold. The mattress on the bed was top of the line and brand new as were the dresser, mirror and bedside tables.
“You didn’t have to do this for my room,” he protested. “I understand why you would want the place to look good but I am perfectly happy sleeping on a double bed. You should have done this in your room, not mine.”
“I did. I am not happy sleeping on double bed. And this is our room now,” she told him, taking him by the hand. Jon thought he had heard her wrong.
“You…want to sleep in the same room as me?” he choked. She nodded, her eyes shining.
“Yes, Jon, I vanting very much to sleep with you.” She leaned forward and deposited a soft, gentle kiss on his agape lips. “Let me show you.”
Chapter Five
“Marika” did not know how it had happened. When she had first landed in Connecticut, she had barely formulated a plan more than escaping Europe. All she had known at that time was that the fear and disgust which had chased her overseas like an evil shadow had diminished. With each fluffy cloud passing by her window seat, she could feel herself breathing slightly easier. Then, as the plane had descended, she had filled with a feeling of uncertainty. She was second guessing her decision but she had been out of options. She was certain that she did not want to move in with a creep whom she had met online even though out of all the men “Marika” had spoken with through the website, Jon seemed to be the nicest. She had seen a certain kindness in his eyes, something nonthreatening and sorrowful which is why she had opted to connect with him. Her scheme had been simply to use him for the plane ticket, certain that he would not be overly demanding to her online. Other men had demanded nude photos, Skype calls and even sexual videos, none of which “Marika” was willing to provide. She was desperate to flee but not so much that she would sell herself. Once in Connecticut, she would flee to New York where she could disappear into the crowd and hope that her past would remain a distant, haunting previous life. However, seeing Jon face-to-face, she had a very strong feeling that leaving him would be detrimental to them both. The combination of his condo, and the quiet, picturesque city of Burlington had proven to be therapeutic for her. Slowly, as the days progressed, she found herself becoming more at ease with him and more at peace within herself. His sweet disposition and easy nature made his companionship delightful. He was much like an eager puppy in some ways, vying for her approval, buying her flowers, finding Hungarian cuisine and even attempting words in Hungarian but he quickly forsook that task after discovering the difficulty of the language. Still, she was incredibly touched by the effort he put forth to make her life comfortable, and inevitably she found she was attracted to him. She tried to fight it at first but then she began asking herself why. Why should she reject such a man? She was no longer the woman she once was and she deserved someone as endearing and kind as Jon. He is lovely. He does not pressure you, he cares about you and his intentions are pure. Why would you not open your heart to him? There is nothing stopping you from being with this man. In the end, she decided either consciously or subconsciously that she adored Jon Hewson and wanted to be with him. She had slowly tried to make herself useful, cooking his meals and doing his laundry but as she looked about his shabby apartment, she realized that the condo did not lack cleanliness. It required warmth to become a home. It needs what the Americans call “a woman’s touch.” And “Marika was just the woman to provide it. She immediately busied herself checking on furniture online and making orders as her mind worked furiously toward color schemes and artwork. It had been grueling and time consuming, battling a tight deadline but she hoped that in the end, Jon would recognize her endeavor as a sign of the affection she felt toward him. The result had been spectacular but as she had sat back looking at her finished handiwork, she still felt like something was missing. She finally figured out what it was; intimacy. So “Marika” had hopped in the shower, done her hair and slipped into a slinky nightgown. She had been vaguely aware that Jon had been sending her texts all day but she had other things to occupy her mind. The garment she chose had been purchased by Jon but he had never seen it as he had remained respectfully outside Victoria’s Secret and waited patiently for her. It was a sheer, flowing material, white and pure but left very little to the imagination. She stared at herself in the new mirror in the bedroom she was now to share with Jon and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. You can do this, she told herself. You want to be with Jon. You are not doing anything wrong.
Romance: The Bad Boy Affair: A Second Chance Romance Page 16