The Real Thing

by Marina Simcoe

  “You never listen, do you?” Marcus remained sitting in the chair several feet away from me. “You know I have means to get my way?” he smirked and tipped his chin at me. “Let me see you now.”

  With the sun already fully beyond the horizon, the living room was lit only by the warm light coming from the few candles left on the dining table behind him. Suddenly, one of the spotlights in the ceiling lit up, its wide ray of light focused on me like if I was on a stage, blinding me for a second.

  “Let me see you,” he repeated in a low, husky voice.

  I shook my head, trying hard to keep breathing, even as he was taking my breath away.

  The barstool under my foot in front of me rolled in an arch around me and to the side, taking my foot with it. My legs opened wide, making the skirt of my dress ride up, exposing my panties to Marcus.

  He grinned with satisfaction and squinted his eyes, betraying that there was more to come.

  I felt the zipper on the back of my dress slide down. The dress slipped off my shoulders and caught my arms, tightly pressing my elbows to my waist. The front closure of my bra popped open and my breasts spilled out, heaving with my heavy breaths.

  “Beautiful. Just like that,” whispered Marcus and shifted in his chair. He opened his legs wider to give more room to the growing bulge that strained against the black leather of his pants.

  The light on me dimmed, and I saw the flame of one of the candles from the table behind him stretch into a red-hot ribbon. It curled and twisted, as it reached in our direction, until the top smoky part separated from the flame and snaked over Marcus’s shoulder, hugging his neck, like a loving pet.

  His eyes remained on me when the smoke snake slid along his arm and floated in the air towards me. It coiled around the stiletto heel of my shoe that was on top of the barstool then slowly slithered further up, following Marcus’s silent command.

  My stockings dissolved into nothing and the straps of my garter belt snapped into the air with the clasps having nothing to hold on to anymore. I felt the heat of the candle flame on my skin when the smoke ribbon wrapped around my ankle. The sensation was hot enough to excite but not strong enough to be painful.

  With my eyes glued on the progress of the ribbon of smoke curling up my leg, I felt the narrow silk scarf I had tied around my head untie. Matching the speed of the ribbon moving up my leg, the scarf slid to my shoulder and glided around my neck, causing tingling sensations to spread along the sensitive skin of my throat all the way down my body.

  The heat from the smoke snake moved all the way up my leg now, caressing my inner thigh. My panties melted as soon as the ribbon of heat reached them and then spread between my legs in warm liquid pleasure. The heat of it — in the contrast with the cool silk of my scarf now skimming my hard nipples — made me moan and squirm on top of the stool.

  The dress held my arms in place, restraining my movements. I tried to close my legs, to press them together and alleviate some of the tension building in between, but the barstool with my foot on it rolled back to its place at my side, keeping my legs wide open for Marcus to see everything between them.

  I breathed hard and moved my gaze to him.

  His position in the chair hardly changed, and his eyes — dark and heavy — never moved from me, but his clothes were now gone. He fisted his massive erection, slowly stroking it up and down. The sight of him touching himself only spurred my own excitement, and the pressure inside me reached unbearable levels.

  “Marcus… I need you…” I rasped out and felt the heat and the pressure between my legs alternate in a frantic pattern as the cloud of hot smoke pulsated there under his watchful eye.

  All of my senses were turned up to their highest by now, and it didn’t take much to push me over the edge. Just a few more pulsating magical touches right where I needed them most made me explode.

  I screamed as my hips lurched off the barstool in a series of blissful spasms. My foot kicked the barstool it was on, and the stool crashed to the floor with a loud noise. With my arms bound by the dress, I lost my balance and would have fallen to the floor myself if Marcus hadn’t caught me in his arms.

  “I need you too, Angela,” he groaned and buried his face in my hair. My dress disappeared, and I threw my arms around his neck. My fingers found the leather cord holding his hair, and I pulled it out, setting his heavy mane free.

  The heat of his hands replaced the touch of silk on my breasts for a few tantalizing moments as he rolled my nipples under his thumbs. His hands then slid under my backside, and he lifted us both in the air.

  The familiar, intense heat of his body enveloped me, setting my own senses on fire. I wrapped my legs around his hips and felt him slide inside me with urgency. I held on, anchoring myself to him as we floated in the air, under the ceiling of the living room.

  The house vibrated fiercely around us, intense waves of light and power radiated from Marcus. I could feel his magic wrapping around me, embracing me in a warm caress, pulling him closer to me, accepting me as part of him.

  His hips moved faster, frantically chasing his own release and getting me closer and closer too once again.

  “Oh, God… Marcus…” I breathed out as another orgasm erupted in shudders of sweet ache and pleasure from me. He growled at my neck, and I felt the muscles of his back stiffen under my hands before his hips jerked erratically into me. His orgasm caught the last waves of ecstasy inside me and spurred them on, prolonging the pleasure for both us.

  The ground lurched up in one last powerful tremor, making the furniture shift. Our champagne flutes fell on the table and rolled off, smashing to pieces against the tile floor. I paid no attention to the mess and just smiled against the warm skin of his neck. We went through an exorbitant amount of dishes in this house, and there were always pieces of glass to clean up after a night of passion with Marcus. Maybe we should consider switching to plastic dishes or ever paper plates one day.

  He was still breathing hard as his body relaxed in my arms. The spotlight had turned off, and in the dim light of the candles, Marcus’s eyes glistened with emotion when he looked at me.

  “I love you, Angela. You are my most wonderful miracle.”

  EPILOGUE

  Marcus kept his eyes on the road as he drove down the deserted highway to Phoenix. It was early morning and there were hardly any cars in either direction.

  He renewed his driver’s licence for the first time in many years, and he actually owned the car he was driving — just the few of the changes in his life recently, the few of many, and all of them because of her, the girl in the red dress.

  For a moment, his eyes strayed to Angela, who was peacefully dozing in the passenger’s seat next to him.

  She was meant for him, there was not a slightest doubt in his heart. She was his light, his happiness, his soulmate. She was the only one who knew everything about him, and the only one who loved him despite of it.

  Every day and every night she was by his side now, exactly where he wanted her to be.

  As energetic as she was, he didn’t expect her to sit idle in the house for long. She asked right away if she could come to the venue with him, and had seen every show ever since.

  She learned quickly all the ins and outs of his work. Because she could feel his magic and knew everything about it, her help turned out to be invaluable in design and planning. The new show, with the elements of circus and variety, was no longer just his, it was theirs — his and Angela’s — because they both had been working tirelessly on it.

  He had been able to incorporate and test a few new acts into his current show for now. However, everyone, including Simon, was excited to have the new program up and running when his contract ran out next spring. Simon had already managed to find a new venue, and the main focus was on selecting the right circus artists, dancers and actors.

  Marcus was glad that Angela’s family in Toronto were doing well. This freed Angela’s mind from the constant worry about them and allowed her to do what
she enjoyed, to throw all of her time and energy into their work in Las Vegas instead.

  Jennifer, Angela’s mother, seemed to like the counseling well enough to stick with her regular sessions. She missed her roses and her old garden, but she made some good friends in the condo building where they lived now.

  Angela set the strict rule of homemade baby presents only, and Jen taught herself to knit through free Internet courses. She had raided second-hand stores and garage sales for yarn and was now knitting baby blankets. The good thing about it was that every blanket took her infinitely more time to knit than the shopping for yarn did. Knitting kept her busy at home, out of stores and away from the temptation.

  Having the innate aversion to everything wedding-related, Lily almost begged Jen to help her plan her and Evan’s wedding that was taking place next year, and Jen found herself in her element again. She spent an enormous amount of time gathering information for Lily, who had no time to spend. Jen interviewed vendors, negotiated prices and tasted an immense amount of wedding cakes. Her enthusiasm and excellent taste made her help with the wedding planning priceless to Lily, without any direct risk to Jen’s personal finances.

  Henry, Angela’s dad, had adjusted to the life in the city too. He spent the warm spring and summer days in the park where he found a group of local chess enthusiasts. They organized weekly chess tournaments and got together for practice games through the week.

  Marcus and Angela gave Henry season tickets to the Roy Thomson Hall for his birthday, and he and Jen were looking forward to all the symphonies and performances that they could to go to in the fall.

  Overall, Angela’s parents went through a tough period of adjustments, having to re-learn how to live within their means again. However, now that they had a better control of their finances, they enjoyed the newly found feeling of freedom and peace of mind.

  Marcus knew how much their happiness meant to Angela.

  His eyes flickered to the passenger’s seat again. A ray from the rising sun got caught in the stone of the ring on her finger, casting a soft orange glow onto the dashboard of the car.

  She could have chosen the most expensive diamond in the world, and he would have found a way to get it for her, come hell or high water; but she wanted the amber — inexpensive, understated and warm. She said, it reminded her of his necklace, and wearing the ring made her feel like she truly belonged into his family now. She accepted his people with her whole heart — before she even had the chance to meet them — simply because they were his family.

  Her unconditional acceptance gave him the optimism and the courage to try to do the same.

  It had been excruciatingly hard for him to let go off the walls he build so meticulously all his life to separate himself from the world. He held onto the remnants of his castle for as long as he could, like a child holds on to a comfort blanket. Within the walls he was alone, lonely and bored most of the time, but he felt safe. As long as he kept his distance from everyone, there was no risk of discovery and therefore no risk of rejection, hurt or even ridicule.

  Angela tore all his walls down one by one. With a few bold words, a kiss and a smile, she turned his impenetrable fortress into a sandcastle, rendering it completely useless. His fearless ice queen!

  Fearless to him was not just a lack of fear or a complete disregard for danger. It was more about recognizing your fears and facing them head on. Angela took it one step further: she gave him the opportunity to confront his own fears. Because of her, he would finally face his past.

  Ingeborg’s people were the closest to his biological family he ever hoped to find. He still felt apprehensive to meet them, but now there was more of excitement, anticipation and hope than there was of fear and anxiety in his emotions.

  Since he met Angela, he had been learning what it felt like to belong. He knew he belong with her, but maybe the feeling could grow to include more people. Maybe there really was a place where he would find his roots. Maybe learning where he came from would give him wisdom to help his own son find his own way in life.

  Following the pull he never could explain but stopped fighting long ago, his gaze returned to Angela once again. Her head was bent at an angle that couldn’t have been comfortable, and her hair fell over her face. His hand itched to fix it for her, but he contemplated whether it would be worth the risk of waking her.

  As if feeling his gaze on her, Angela stretched with a sweet moan and opened one eye.

  “Hey, keep your eyes on the road, mister,” she reprimanded with a warm lazy smile on her face and stretched in her seat again, massaging the stiffness out of her neck.

  “Less than one hour now,” he said, returning her smile.

  “Really? That was fast.” She straightened in her seat and looked ahead. “Well, not as fast as teleporting of course. God, I can’t wait until I can do it again!”

  She turned her head to look at him for a few seconds and then added quietly, “Thank you for being here with me.”

  Her hand reached for his over the console, and he gently squeezed her warm fingers.

  “Thank you for being there for me, my fearless woman. Every step of the way.”

  THE END

  More By Marina Simcoe

  DEMON MINE

  I could hear them coming. Their footsteps echoed in the empty hallways and reverberated through the concrete floors. I’d been here long enough to know that they could be extremely stealthy, but they didn’t care about being quiet right now. I scurried to the opposite side of the ratty mattress on the floor until my back hit the wall and I curled into a ball. Not that it mattered; they’d get me anyway. I couldn’t fight them. I’d tried. They were much stronger than me, much stronger than any human.

  I wasn’t sure how long I had been here. I did make marks on the wall of my cell with a spoon every day to keep track. I didn’t start doing it until I had been here for at least a few days… or weeks… And I wasn’t sure how accurate I had been lately, either. Things had been rather blurry in my mind for the past few weeks or so. In any case, I never got to count all the marks on the wall and had no way of knowing how long it had been since they brought me here. I just knew it felt like forever.

  Sometimes, in the rare moments of clarity, I was wondering if that was what it felt like to lose your mind. Days and weeks would disappear unaccounted for until all of what you were would vanish into a thick fog, never to be found again…

  The door to my cell slid open, and they walked in. Calm, cold and silent. Always silent.

  There were usually three of them at night. All dressed the same, in grey uniforms made of thick fabric-like material, covered with several hard plastic or metal plates on their chests, shoulders, forearms and legs, with matching grey helmets that fully covered their heads, including faces, with just two slit-openings for the eyes. Grey leather gloves and heavy boots of the same charcoal grey completed their outfits.

  One of them stepped forward while the other two stood on each side of the door. They expected me to get up and walk out of the cell. I knew that’s what they wanted, but I wasn’t moving. I just curled more into myself and shut my eyes, willing them to disappear. Shouldn’t all nightmares disappear eventually?

  Then I heard the first of the three take a few more determined steps towards me, and I lost it!

  “No!” I shrieked hysterically. “Don’t touch me! Keep you disgusting gloves away from me!”

  I jumped as he reached for me and ducked under his arm, surprising myself with the agility of my movements. I knew they were incredibly strong. As far as I could tell, though, they moved with a more reasonable, human speed. A crazy idea sprung into my feverish brain: I could outrun him! I just needed to run for it very, very fast…

  I made it all the way to the door before the two others grabbed me. With those two there, I never had a chance in the first place, and deep inside I knew it. It’s not like it was a solid plan on my part anyway, more like an act of desperation spurred by increasing insanity.

  Pan
ic exploded hot inside of my brain. They each held one of my arms with ease, and I kicked the air between them, twisted in their grip with the risk of dislocating my own shoulders and screamed, and screamed, and screamed… Screamed with abandon until my lungs burned and my voice came out in a raspy croak, no longer resembling any noise made by a human.

  Through the black fog of panic, I barely registered another pair of arms coming across my midsection. The hard chest plates of the first guy pressed into my back as he tackled me from behind.

  I finally got a target for my feet now, furiously kicking him in the shins and slamming my heels into his boots. The two guys holding my arms let go of me, and with my arms now free, I immediately slammed my fists into his forearms at my front, repeatedly.

  Unsurprisingly, he remained unfazed by all of it. If I had a sliver of common sense left, I would have realized that I was just hurting myself on the hard bracers of his armor without causing him any harm whatsoever.

  As it was though, I had no common sense left. And that was my biggest problem. After who knew how much time being locked up in isolation with not one single word spoken to me all this time by anyone, with not a single friendly face in sight, I finally lost it. Who could blame me? It was a miracle that I’d lasted as long as I did…

  Blind rage and all-encompassing terror were all I felt at that moment. I was going to keep screaming until my voice was gone completely, and I was going to keep hitting anything and everything until my last breath escaped me. They would not do anything to me anymore! They would not force me to do anything for them, either! At this point they could only kill me, and I would not even care if they did… At least it would be the end of this…