“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. Can we talk about this, please? Let me just come over.”
“No, don’t come over!” I nearly yell into the phone.
“Scarlett, I’m coming over, and you’d better be there.” He hangs up the phone.
Crap! Why don’t my plans ever work? I really don’t want to face him right now, that’s why I called him. I feel like a bag of mush with a truckload of hormones dumped on top of it. I go upstairs and take a quick shower to cleanse myself of the horrific day. It was going so well, and then he had to show up at the Black Chapel, looking for Samantha. I hate that name now.
20 minutes later, Michael arrives, looking worried as all get out, but of course sexier than a GQ model.
I let him in, but I immediately inform him that I don’t want to talk about this. He sits down on the couch and invites me to join him.
“I’d rather stand,” I say, crossing my arms in front of my chest. His intense eyes are too distracting, and I’d better keep my distance or I’ll succumb to his charm, I’m sure. No I wont!
“Whatever it is, Scarlett, please let’s just talk it through. Will you be open with me?” Michael asks.
“I just think this is going too fast, and with all the money involved, I think it would be better if we just stuck to the original contract and nothing else.”
He searches my eye. “You’ve been crying.”
I look away. “My dad isn’t doing too well. He needs chemo, but I can’t afford it.” I immediately loathe myself for using my dad as the excuse in this argument.
Michael stands up and walks over to me. He places his hand on my chin and then lifts my face so I have to look into his dreamy blue eyes.
“I want to help. Will you please let me help you and your father? I’d hate to see him take a turn for the worse while we’re waiting for our deal to go through.” Michael looks genuinely concerned. But of course he does. He’s a pathological liar.
I bite my lower lip and look away, afraid I’ll break down in front of him. But it’s too late. I begin to cry because I want to be completely open with him.
“I just lost my job today,” I say, bawling.
“Is that what this is about?” His voice is calm and soothing.
I nod my head. Liar!
“You know my offer to support you is still open, right?” He strokes my hair.
I look back at him. “But I don’t want to be anyone’s dependent.” I hear the whiny tone in my voice, but I can’t help it.
“Okay. How about we say it’s an advance on your portion of the inheritance. That way, you’re not dependent on me,” Michael says.
I don’t say anything, but his last offer sounds reasonable.
“Oh, come on, Scarlett! Just say yes!” He grabs my arms, shakes me gently, and then smiles.
Oh my, those dimples just confuse me so much. I crack a smile.
“I know you want to!” He picks me up and twirls me around. I want to remain mad at him, but it’s very hard to. He’s still not forgiven for wanting to cheat on me with Samantha. But I guess I can’t be too mad at him since he wanted to have an affair with the other me.
“The day after Christmas, we’ll get in touch with the best doctors in town, and we’ll get your dad started on chemo right away,” Michael says.
I can hardly believe it. My dad’s going to get the treatment he desperately needs, and Michael is going to help me with it. My heart melts, and I think I might possibly be falling for this man. Like really, truly head over heels falling for him. I kiss him softly but then pull away. “Where were you tonight anyway?” I ask. I need to see if he’ll fess up.
His eyes fluster big time, but I wait patiently.
“Promise you won’t hate me if I tell you?” Michael says.
Oh, crap, he’s going to tell me. What do I do if he tells me? That means I’ll be the only liar in the room.
“I wanted to get to know this… girl better, but after you and I made love today, I dropped by to tell her that I’d met someone else.”
I feel all the blood leave my face and I take a step away from him.
“Was that too premature of me to do?” he asks.
“No,” I say, feebly. Does this mean I have to fess up now, too? “Did you get to tell her?”
“No,” he says. Then he chuckles. “She won’t even talk to me.”
“Impressed her that much, huh?” I say.
“She’s not the one I want to impress,” he says, wrapping his strong arms around me.
My inner guiltometer has reached its climax, and I can hardly stand being in the same room as the evil me.
Michael bends down and kisses me. His lips are so warm and wet, and I can’t resist him at all. My barriers are down, my reason gone. He reaches behind my neck and presses my lips harder on his. His lips are demanding now, and as I open my mouth, his tongue enters and explores my mouth. My tongue moves to meet his and joins his in a slow, sensual dance. Oh, shit. I can’t control myself around this man. I can’t manage to pull away because his kisses are so intoxicating. He wants me, I can feel it in his hungry kiss, in the way he gropes my body, and in the way he’s breathing so erratically. And I can’t deny it. I want him too.
“Feeling better?” He asks, pulling away, his arms still around me.
I nod, still high from his fervent kiss.
“Will you come spend the night at my place?”
I nod again, not thinking about the consequences, and only the immediate pleasure. Today was so amazing, and I can’t wait to experience all the sensual pleasures again.
I pack my bag and he drives me over to his house, all the while holding my hand. He kisses me passionately at every red light, and my insides are churning with delicious desire. We pull into his driveway and he directs his valet to park the car and bring my bag inside.
Halfway up the stairs, he picks me up and carries me the rest of the way. I laugh and feel as light as a feather. When he carries me into his room, he throws me onto the King sized plush mattress. The room is huge and bright, except for the bed is the color of sex. He’s got twenty-foot ceilings, at least, and ceiling high windows covering one of the walls. The burgundy sheets feel silky smooth underneath my now, almost fully exposed skin. We’re pulling each others clothes off, impatient and wanting.
“Do you have any idea of how badly I want you right now?” he whispers, his eyes ablaze.
I laugh, and moan and then turn to Jell-O in his arms.
He kisses me and bites my lower lip, sending all kinds of raging emotions through me. I’ve never been kissed like this before, but it’s not just the kiss that’s so tantalizing. It’s that I feel he really wants me.
“You are so beautiful, Scarlett.” He gropes my breast and then sucks on my nipple, biting it gently. His tongue encircles me there. How is he doing this to me? Driving me crazy with his tongue. It’s even better than earlier today and I want him even more than before. He kisses a trail down my abdomen, leaving tingles where his wet lips touch. I’m so heavy and wanting, I arch my back in anticipation and he slips his fingers inside me.
“Oh, Scarlett, you’re so wet.” His voice is raspy.
I moan at the pleasure.
“I want you so bad, Scarlett.” He moves his fingers, faster and faster until I feel myself building. “I’m going to take you now, I can’t wait,” he says, getting on top of me. He enters me slowly and starts moving. I feel the build up again as I rise to meet him at the deepest part of the thrust. He moves faster and faster, deeper and deeper, and I beg for my release. He gets down onto his elbows and his lips envelop mine, kissing me passionately.
I moan into his mouth, because I need to let the pleasure come out somehow, somewhere. “Oh, Michael” I say as I feel myself come, pulling myself away from his lips so I can catch my breath.
As he finds his release, he yells my name and thrusts into me one more time. He’s panting. I’m panting. His head sinks and his forehead rests on mine. We’re both sweating from it all.
He laughs. “I usually last longer, but you’re just so damn sexy, I can’t contain myself.”
I smirk. He can’t contain himself? “That was amazing, I say, still feeling my body coming down from the earth-shattering orgasm. How is my body reacting to his like this? Its like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
“You were made for me.” He kisses me on the cheek and rests his head on the pillow and then we both fall asleep.
18
I sleep like a baby. When I wake up, Michael is already in the shower. I notice that my body feels sore, and I feel sore down there. I like being reminded of last night, and I squeeze my thighs together when think of him being inside me.
Michael comes out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his narrow hips. I sit up and have to do everything in my power not to drool. His skin is wet. His hair is wet. Suddenly I’m wanting him again.
“Good morning, Scarlett.” He sits down on the bed next to me and kisses me lightly on the lips.
“Good morning,” I say. Geez, I hope I don’t look like a troll. My hair is probably crazy messy.
“Sleep well?”
“Yes, thank you for asking,” I say. It’s hard not to stare at his firm physique. “Did you enjoy your shower?”
“I would have enjoyed it more if you would have been in there with me.” He leans over and kisses me.
I feel the blood pool in my lower abdomen. “Want to join me in the shower?” I ask.
His eyes intensify and he scoops me into his arms, wrapped in the silk sheet, carrying me into the bathroom. “Tub or shower?”
“Now that I have a choice, tub,” I reply.
He sets me down onto the marble floor and turns the water on. The tub is huge and it has jets. He doesn’t waste any time and lifts me up onto the granite counter, letting the silk sheet fall, spreading my legs with his towel-covered thighs.
I already feel the throbbing pleasure between my legs. “You make me so wet,” I whisper in his ear.
“I want you again, Scarlett. How do you do this to me?” Two fingers glide inside of me, and he stares me in the eyes. “Do you like this?”
I moan. “Yes.”
He keeps moving his fingers faster and faster and then he removes his towel.
My eyes open wide at the sight of his erection. I’ll never get used to his size, I think. He kisses me and then says, “How do you want it?”
I don’t know what to say, because I only want it now, hard, fast, deep.
He presses the tip of his erection against my sex, and massages me up and down, driving me crazy. I just want him inside. Then he takes my hand and guides it to his erection.
“Touch me, Scarlett. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you inside me,” I say. “Please—”
He smiles and then without warning, het thrusts himself inside of me hard. He keeps thrusting again and again deep, and hard. “Scarlett, say you are mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours, Michael,” I say.
“I want you to always remember how much pleasure I give you.” He’s moving faster now, stroking the entire length of him in and out, filling me with heavenly ecstasy, driving me to higher gratification with each stroke.
“Say it again,” Michael says.
“I’m yours, Michael.”
“Do you want more?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say.
He pulls out of me, guides me off the counter and turns me around. Then he bends me over, spreads my legs and directs himself back inside.
Oh, the pleasure! I’m holding onto the counter for dear life as he begins to move. The pleasure is even more intense this way. His hands grope my hips and he thrusts into me, pulling my hips backward and forward so we slam into each other again and again. He’s moving faster now, and I feel myself build, coming up to the peak where I’ll soon find my release.
“Oh, Michael,” I say. I feel myself come now. “Oh, Michael,” I say again as I go over the top.
“Yes, come for me, baby,” Michael says. Our eyes connect in the mirror and I see the pleasure on his face, an agonizing expression filled with passion and lust. He yells my name as he comes, “Scarlett.” He moans at the very last thrust as the climax rips through him. Then his head sinks and we are still panting, but motionless, like the calm after the perfect storm.
Once Michael’s come down, but still inside of me, he stands me up and we look at each other in the mirror. He grabs my breasts and squeezes them. “You make me go wild,” he says.
I make him go wild? I smile mischievously. “But just remember, this doesn’t change our deal.” I look at him and smirk.
He barks a laugh and then kisses my cheek. “Agreed.”
“I thought we might fly out to New York today to see the Sound of Music,” he says once we’re finally in the tub. It’s a huge tub with jets and he’s added bath salts and oils. I’m sitting between his legs and we’re both facing the same direction. “What do you think?” He kisses my neck, and I feel a thrilling tingle all the way down to my lower abdomen.
“I really wanted to visit my father today. Do we have time for both?” I say.
He pauses for a moment. “Yes. If we fly out by 3:00 p.m., we’ll make it.” He pauses for a moment. “May I come with you to see your father?”
This is a shady area. I don’t know if I want Michael to meet my father just yet. It’s too soon. Things could change between us, and heaven forbid, could blow up and hit the fan.
“I’d really like to go alone,” I say, hoping he won’t take offense.
“Okay. You’re right. It’s too soon. But can I meet you for lunch after and then take you shopping? Then we could pick out a couple of dresses, one for Broadway tonight and one for Christmas Eve tomorrow.”
I smile. “Sure.”
“So did you book tickets yet?” I ask.
“No, we’ll be flying my private jet.”
“Oh,” I say. Hadn’t considered that outrageous possibility.
19
I arrive at my father’s assisted living facility at 11:15 a.m. I can’t wait to tell him I’ve come up with the money to pay for his chemotherapy treatments—all of them. What a wonderful Christmas present it will be.
I ring the doorbell and the nurse buzzes me in.
“Any changes I need to be aware of?” I ask, stopping briefly by the front desk.
“No. Your father has been asking for you, though.” The old nurse looks like she has a frown permanently engraved on her face.
I feel guilty immediately for not having visited my father more this week. Normally I’d see him every day, but normally I’m only one person with no boyfriend. Now I’m playing the part of two people and both have boyfriends.
I head to his room and when I enter, he’s sitting in a chair in front of the TV watching the Nature Channel. He’s wearing his larger than necessary, I think, glasses and a comfy red and green flannel shirt and jeans. My heart swells in my bosom. I love this man, deeply. He’s worked so hard all his life to provide for Mom, and me and now he sits here and wastes away in an old-folks home, waiting for the cancer to take him. I tear up, but then he notices me.
“Scarlett!” He looks overjoyed when he sees me. He struggles to his feet but I tell him he should just stay seated. I encircle him in my arms and try to get rid of the growing lump in my throat. He’s a shadow of a man compared to the great man he used to be. He’s so thin, all skin and bones.
“I have some great news, Dad.” I sit down in the fold-up chair next to him and dry my eyes.
“Oh?” His face is hallow and gray, and his skin hangs. The shadowy circles under his eyes are disturbingly dark.
I scoot to the edge of my seat and take his hand in mine. “I’ve come across a wealthy individual who has offered to sponsor your chemotherapy treatments,” I say.
He doesn’t respond the way I expected him to. “I don’t know, Scarlett. I’m so tired and sick. This illness has taken so much away from me.” His head falls to the back of his chair
and his eyes wander to a place I don’t know.
“But this is the cure. It will heal you and make you better,” I say.
“Well, there are still risks, and there will be a lot of pain in the process, Sweetie, I just don’t know if I have it in me to go through all that.”
“But you have to! You can’t just give up now!” I say.
“Calm yourself, Scarlett. If it’s my time, there’s nothing that can stop me from dying. I’m not saying I won’t accept the generous offer or treatments, I’m merely letting you know how I feel.”
“You have to do it. That’s an order.” My lips perch.
My dad smiles. “Always the one to take matters into her own hands.” He looks me in the eyes.
“Well, I can’t just sit idly by and watch my dad die.” My heart feels heavy. He has to say yes. He has to! “I have some other news, too.”
“More? Oh dear. Too much excitement for one day.” He shakes his head.
“I’m engaged.”
“Engaged? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. When did this happen?” He doesn’t seem happy at all.
“It happened all so sudden,” I say and look down at the floor. “He’s a good man, though.”
My dad shakes his head. “Do I know the man?”
“Maybe. His name is Michael Manning,” I say.
“The young real estate tycoon?” My dad’s eyes widen.
“Yes,” I say. “He proposed and we’re getting married on December 31st.”
My dad looks unpleasantly shocked, disturbed even. “But why so soon?”
“Michael’s mother is suffering from terminal cancer, and we wanted to have her see the wedding before she—”
“I see,” my dad says. “I suppose that makes sense. But do you know that he is a good man?”
“Yes,” I say, but in the back of my mind, I’m not so sure.
“What is it, Dear?” my dad says.
I’ve never been able to keep a lie from my dad. “Nothing. It’s just, I wish Mom had been here for all of this.” And that’s the honest truth.
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