Staying Single

by Millie Criswell

  "And Joyce? Did she try out for the Rockettes?"

  "Actually, she did. But Joyce was never a very good dancer—she has no rhythm—so she didn't make it. I was secretly relieved. Isn't that terrible? I guess I'm not a very good friend."

  He reached out and clasped her hand beneath the sheets, accidentally touching her thigh, which made Francie grit her teeth in an effort to keep calm.

  "It's normal to feel envy, even if it's about your best friend, and especially when you're sixteen. Don't be so hard on yourself. And you should cut your mother some slack. She loves you and is very proud of you. She told me so."

  "Don't be fooled by my mother's Mrs. Brady routine. She's just trying to set you up. She thinks you'd make the perfect husband for me."

  He didn't bat an eyelash at her comment. Instead he asked, "How do you know I wouldn't?"

  Her eyes widened. "I—I don't. I mean, I'm not in the market for a husband, at the moment, just my mother is. Why? Are you in the market for a wife?"

  "I might be. I'm tired of traveling and having no roots. It'd be nice to settle down with someone and maybe have kids someday."

  "Do you have anyone in mind?"

  He smiled. "Now that's a leading question if ever I heard one." Leaning over, he kissed her lips. "Good night, Francie. Sleep tight."

  As soon as his lips touched hers there was instantaneous fire, bells and whistles went off, and Francie knew she wanted more.

  A whole lot more.

  Sleep was out of the question tonight.

  "How tired are you?" she asked, turning on her side and stroking his shoulder in a provocative way that left no question as to what she was asking.

  Well, to the normal male, anyway.

  "Why?"

  Mark wasn't making this any easier, and Francie was not exactly an expert at seduction. She was usually the one being seduced. In spite of her many trips to the altar, she'd never been the aggressive type when it came to men, preferring to let them take the lead.

  "Do you want to kiss me again?" she asked, surprising not only Mark but herself.

  "Are you coming on to me?"

  Well, that was embarrassingly direct.

  Was the man dense? Couldn't Mark take a hint? Did she have to spell it out, throw herself on top of him and show him exactly what she wanted?

  "Yes. Do you mind?"

  He grinned, then reached out to tug her closer to him, surrounding her body with his arms and making her feel small and cherished. "Not at all. I just didn't want to make an assumption that wasn't correct."

  She caressed his cheek, thinking that he had to be the most perfect man alive on the planet. "You talk too much. Just kiss me, okay?"

  "With pleasure. But I'm going to do a whole lot more than just kiss you, Francie."

  Oh, thank heaven! Francie was grateful she wasn't going to have to spell it out for him, after all.

  And then she couldn't think at all, because Mark took Francie at her word. His lips were all over her body, making a trail from her mouth, down her neck, to the tips of her breasts, and then into the great beyond where no man had ever gone before, including Captain Kirk of the Starship Enterprise.

  Oh, she'd had sex before, just not of the oral variety. It seemed her first two fiancés weren't into that sort of thing, even the repulsive Marty, who seemed to be into everything. And she'd never given Matt the opportunity. Though he'd been so reserved, she doubted he'd have done such an erotic thing anyway.

  When Mark eased her legs apart and descended, a glorious shiver went straight down her spine to the tips of her toes. She gasped. "Oh…my… That feels so incredible. Don't stop! Please don't stop."

  Francie felt like bursting into an operatic chorus of "Sweet Mystery of Life," a la Madeline Kahn in Young Frankenstein, but decided she'd better not. Mark may not have seen the classic movie.

  She heard him chuckle. "I have no intention of stopping, love. So relax. You are much too tense. Just lie back and enjoy this. I am."

  Francie had a bad habit of thinking too much during sex. Usually her mind fantasized, so she could get up a full head of steam toward achieving orgasm. But she wasn't fantasizing now. There was no need. Instead she was contemplating whether or not she should reciprocate.

  She'd read in her dog-eared copy of The Joy of Sex that most men were wild about fellatio. But she'd never performed it before, and wondered exactly what he might expect.

  But she couldn't think about that now, because Mark's mouth was trailing up her stomach again while he positioned himself over her. His penis was probing, even as he sucked her nipples for all they were worth.

  Come in! Come in! Francie wanted to shout. I'm ready for you.

  But he must not have believed that because she felt his fingers enter her. "I want to make sure you're lubricated enough."

  "Oh, my!" she heard herself say.

  The G-Spot lives!

  Pausing for a moment, Mark leaned over the side of the bed and reached for his pants, withdrawing a condom from the rear pocket—Mr. Ever Ready, apparently—and putting it on. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

  "No! Are you kidding? Not at all." She wrapped her legs around his waist, just in case he thought to change his mind. "Put it in. I'm ready. Put it in. Now!"

  She thought he was grinning, but couldn't be sure because of the darkness. Then he slipped all seven or eight inches—or maybe it was ten inches, because it sure felt large—into her, and she felt her heart hit the sides of her chest and then explode.

  With every stroke she wanted to profess her undying love, to exclaim that he was the best lover she'd ever had—not that she'd had that many, mind you!— and that if he could keep on like this for oh, say, the next hour or so, she'd gladly do his laundry for him tomorrow and maybe for the rest of his life.

  "Are you doing okay?" he asked, kissing her lips with great tenderness.

  "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she exclaimed with every maddening stroke. "I am doing… Oh! Oh! Oh…!" And then it happened.

  All of a sudden lights flashed in front of her eyes, her brain exploded, and she began floating to the ceiling. It was only Mark's body weight that kept her grounded to the mattress.

  He achieved his climax, too, in unison with hers, which almost never happened according to the books, and that put the biggest smile on her face, as if she'd just climbed Mount Everest and conquered it.

  Just having an orgasm was big. Simultaneous orgasm was gargantuan!

  When her breathing finally returned to normal, and Mark had slid off her, she gazed up at the ceiling and said, "Wow! That was fantastic!" She wanted to ask if they could do it again, but then thought better of it.

  After all, she didn't want him to think she was greedy.

  "Was…was yours okay?" She hated asking that question because one of these days some guy was going to reply, "No. It sucked."

  Fortunately, today wasn't that day.

  "It was very good, for the first time."

  Her eyes widened and she rolled over to look at him, to see if he was joking, but he looked dead serious. "You mean, you've never done this before? Well, I'm impressed. You must be a quick learner."

  Mark started laughing and the booming sound filled the entire room for a good thirty seconds. "What I meant to say was that it was good for the first time between us. After we get to know each other better, learn the rhythm of our bodies, we'll do even better."

  "No way! I mean, how is that possible? If it got any better I'd have to call the paramedics. See, I have goose bumps on my arms." She held up her arm to show him.

  He brushed stray curls away from her face and sighed deeply. "You're something, love, you know that? I had a completely different opinion of you when we first met and now—"

  Alarm bells went off. Mark was going to dump her. He hated having sex with her, and he was about to tell her. Even so, she had to know. "And now, what?"

  "I'm falling in love with you." For once in her life, Francie was speechless.

  12

  I know
you probably won't believe this, Mark, because I've been doing my best to stay away from you, but I'm in love with you, too.

  Mark thought back to Francie's heartfelt admission of the previous night, of the way she had given herself to him completely, no strings attached, no elicited promises of happily ever after, and heaved a sigh, even as he smiled at the memory of their lovemaking.

  She loved him.

  And he didn't know what the hell to think or to do about it. Or what his feelings were for her.

  He'd told Francie last night that he loved her.

  But did he?

  They'd made love three more times during the night, even though he knew they shouldn't have— under the present circumstances, anyway. But he couldn't seem to help himself.

  She had become an addiction. One kiss and he knew he had to have her.

  But did he love her?

  His feelings were a jumble of confusion. He thought he was so smart, that he had everything worked out, his stupid plan for revenge down to the minutest detail. But now that he'd made love to her—

  "Hell, what a goddamn mess!"

  And you've got no one to blame but yourself.

  The phone rang just then, interrupting his thoughts, which was probably a good thing. Recriminations sucked!

  Setting aside his beer, he reached for it, hoping it was Francie—though he didn't know what he'd say to her if it was—and was surprised to find his dad on the other end.

  "Hi, Dad! How're you doing? Still working on that tan?"

  "Just calling- to thank you for that nice little surprise you pulled on your mom and me. It really wasn't necessary. I hate thinking that you spent so much money. But we sure do appreciate it, son. I can't thank you enough."

  Mark had called the hotel in Maui where his parents were staying and had paid for an additional two-week vacation for them and his brother. He knew his father would be able to take off the additional time, since he owned his own business, and Matt had already arranged to take off as much time as he needed from his law firm after the fiasco that was his wedding. Mark's motive had been self-serving, of course—he needed the extra time to finish carrying out his plan—and he felt rotten about accepting the gratitude that his father was heaping on him.

  "I was happy to do it. It's not often you guys get away, so I figured you should take a little additional time and just relax." That much was true, at least.

  He'd missed their last anniversary celebration while on assignment in Turkey, so he didn't be-grudge giving them an expensive belated gift. And even though his motives weren't entirely pure, his heart was in the right place.

  "Your mom wanted to thank you, too, but she had a hula lesson scheduled for today. That woman's got island fever. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to make Laura leave here. Now she's talking about buying one of those time-shares, so we can spend all of our holidays and vacations over here. She's even mentioned me selling the business and taking early retirement."

  Mark grinned at the mental image of Laura in a hula skirt. "Be sure and take lots of pictures, so I can tease Mom when she gets home."

  "I will, son. Hold on, your brother just got back from the beach and wants to talk to you. I've got to go find Laura before she runs off with some Hawaiian hunka hunk of burning love."

  Mark could hear Matt in the background saying something about jealousy and his dad laughing in response, and he had the sudden urge to fly to Maui and join them.

  He wanted to forget all about his plan for revenge, about Francie and all the problems being involved with her had created. He needed to take some time to get his head back on straight. But he knew that wasn't going to happen.

  "Hey, bro! How's it hanging?"

  Mark thought his brother sounded upbeat. "I take it you've found surfing to your liking?"

  "Are you kidding? I love it. And I'm getting pretty good at the old hang ten," Matt said. "Wish you were here so we could ride the waves together."

  "Me, too."

  Mart's voice suddenly grew serious. "Listen, Mark, I know Dad's thanked you already for the extension of our vacation, but I wanted to thank you, too. That was really nice of you. And it came at an excellent time."

  "You mean, because of what happened between you and Francie?"

  There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end before Matt replied, "Not exactly. You see, I've met someone."

  Mark's heart did a somersault.

  "That's great!" he replied, then remembering his previous advice, toned down his enthusiasm a bit. "I mean, isn't it kind of sudden?"

  "That's just it. It isn't sudden at all. Naomi Parker and I went to law school together. She's working here in Maui now. We hooked up when I went to check out some of the law firms I might be interested in joining. We've known each other a long time, but always considered what we had nothing more than just a friendship. But things have a way of heating up over here in the islands."

  "Anyway, I'm just glad I have the extra time to pursue this, see if anything develops. I'm thinking that it probably will. At least, I hope so. It feels so right this time. I know I've said that before, Mark, but this time it's the real thing."

  "But what about Francie? Are you completely over your feelings for her now?" Mark held his breath, wondering what his brother would say, realizing that it mattered. It mattered very much.

  "I think it would have been a huge mistake for me to marry her. Francie's a great girl, don't get me wrong, but we didn't have enough in common to make a life together. I guess you were right—I didn't know her long enough or well enough to make such an important decision. I never even made love to her, if you can believe that. We might have been totally incompatible in the sack."

  Mark doubted that very much, but was happy to hear it nonetheless. "Really? That's surprising." He'd just assumed that Francie and his brother had consummated their relationship, and was quite relieved—almost euphoric, if he was honest with himself—to discover they hadn't.

  But he didn't want to delve too deeply into why that was so. Not right now, because he needed time to think. Now that the path had been cleared, he had to decide whether or not he was going to go down it.

  "Francie always put me off when it came to having sex, and now I can understand why. I guess she sensed that it wasn't right between us. I'm glad one of us had the smarts to know and do something about it before it was too late."

  "I'm happy for you, Matt. I hope things work out between you and Naomi."

  "You do?" Matt's voice held a note of incredulity. "That doesn't sound like my cautious, relationship-phobic brother. What's changed? Have you met someone?"

  Mark took a moment before answering. "Yes, but it's nothing I want to talk about right now. But when I'm ready, you'll be the first to know." And if that happened, it was one conversation he didn't relish having.

  It was one thing to have your fiancée dump you on your ass in front of hundreds of people and quite another to find out that she was now sleeping with your brother. And he just wasn't sure at this point how Matt would react. He didn't want anything, including Francie, to come between him and Matt.

  "Sounds mysterious."

  "No, just complicated."

  Like, where did he go from here?

  Did he really want to get involved with someone who couldn't commit?

  Been there, done that.

  And unfortunately, so had Francie—three times, to be exact.

  Did he really want to be fiancé number four?

  What if he did decide to pursue her all the way to the altar and at the last minute she bolted? Could his ego ever recover from that? And what of his family? They'd already been put through hell because of what had happened to his brother.

  He had plenty of questions, but no answers.

  And he was getting way ahead of himself.

  Most likely, when Francie found out who he really was, and that his brother was her ex-fiancé, she'd hate him for deceiving her.

  And could he really blame her?

  "Ma
rk? Are you still there?"

  "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about something."

  "Or someone?" He could hear the teasing laughter in Matt's voice. "Sounds to me like you've been hooked, big brother. Careful you don't relinquish your confirmed bachelor status by losing your heart."

  Too late for that, Mark feared, knowing in that very moment that he was in love with Francie.

  "I'm in love."

  Rolling her eyes, Lisa continued to spread peanut butter and strawberry jam onto the four slices of bread for the sandwiches she was making, licking the knife between spreading.

  "Oh, please! Not again. I'm telling you, France, you've got to get over this addiction of yours. It isn't healthy. You're becoming a serial bride. Or should I say a serial groom killer?"

  "How would you know? You've never been in love, so how do you know it's unhealthy? And I'm not becoming a serial anything."

  Lisa paused, knife in hand, which she licked again, then looked up. "It just so happens that I'm in love right now, as we speak, with a great guy. I'm thinking about eloping with him, in fact. But we don't have definite plans as yet."

  "What?" Francie's eyes widened as she bolted off the kitchen chair. "When did this happen? Why don't I know anything about it? Does Mom know? Are you crazy?"

  "Recently. We met at a dance club. And no, Mom doesn't know, and I want to keep it that way. And I'm not crazy. Actually, for once in my life I think I'm doing the right thing."

  "Please tell me he is not another musician. They are so unstable, Lisa. Didn't you learn your lesson the last time, with that crazed trumpet player? My God, the things he threatened to do to you with that mouthpiece."

  Sighing at the memory of Tony Jones and his fabulous horn, Lisa grinned. "Yeah! That was one incredible night of sex, I can tell you that."

  "But you needn't worry, because Alex isn't a musician. In fact, he has a very upstanding job as a mortgage banker. If I marry him, I will become a banker's wife, the image of refinement and respectability. Can you believe that? Mom and Dad would think they'd died and gone to heaven. I can read the headlines now. Screw-Up Daughter Finally Makes Good."