Loving Lola

by Lena Matthews

  Her mind was like a whirling mass of contradicting thoughts. Part of her wanted to snuggle up to him and beg him to never let her go, but another part wanted to hide, ashamed of what she had let him bring out in her. Ladies didn’t crave being tied up or talked dirty to. It just wasn’t the norm. Yet here she was, recovering from the best fucking of her life. Lola was between a rock and a hard place, and Marcus was definitely the hard place.

  Bending over, she picked up her ripped panties and sighed in disgust. The one pair that didn’t disappear into her ass was demolished. He was so buying her another pair. Balling them up, she wedged them between her skirt waistband and her stomach. It would figure she wouldn’t wear anything requiring a pocket today.

  “Where do you think you’re going with those?” asked Marcus from behind her as he snatched them out of her waistband. While she had been lost in la la land, Marcus had righted himself and was once again looking like the upstanding Southern gentlemen he pretended to be.

  “To the nearest trashcan,” Lola reached for her underwear but missed. Marcus tucked them into his back pocket. “Gimme those back.”

  “Not on your life, chére.” Grabbing her to him, Marcus quickly kissed her on the mouth. “If I don’t have something to hold on to, I’m liable to think it was all some sick masturbatory fantasy.”

  “What you do with a sock and a wet wipe is your business, buster.” Old habits never died, Lola thought amusedly. Even after just burning about a million calories in a workout that would make Jane Fonda keel over, they were back to their routine.

  Chuckling, he squeezed her and kissed her again, this time lingering to run his tongue over hers. Sighing, Lola leaned in to him and gave in to his kisses. She had been right all along -- Marcus was capable of using his tongue for more than just wagging. He kissed her like she had always dreamed of but had only read about in her romance novels. His kisses were as overwhelming as his loving had been, and just like their session of afternoon delight, Marcus made it clear that he was in charge. He suckled her tongue, taking it and caressing it like his cock had taken her body. It was a strong and demanding kiss, much like him. Lola loved every second of it. Her body began to respond to him; her nipples tightened, and her vagina, still sore from their lovemaking a mere five minutes ago, began to awaken and pulse back to life.

  Pulling back slowly, Marcus looked into her eyes and smiled. He looked content and pleased, something Lola wasn’t used to seeing on his face, especially when he was looking at her.

  “You’re not getting sentimental on me now, are you, chér?” Lola asked, wary of the look in his eyes. “I mean, this was fun and all, but I’m not planning on wearing your letterman jacket and letting you walk me home.”

  Marcus stiffened, the smile in his eyes dimming. She didn’t want to be mean or anything, but the thought of Marcus getting all mushy with her scared the hell out of her. It was one thing to argue and fight with him -- at least then she was in her comfort zone. But when he started watching her with a soft look in his eyes, warning bells went off in her head and visions of picket fences surrounded her, trapping her in this town.

  “I wouldn’t think of it.” Marcus let her go and walked to the door, raising the blinds. Lola peered around him, expecting to see a few of the workers with their noses pressed against the glass. Much to her relief, it was clear. The world had gone on around them. Who would have ever figured?

  “Good thing,” she teased, watching him walk back toward her. “You had me scared there for a moment.”

  “And why exactly would that scare you?” Sitting on the edge of his desk, Marcus crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head as he looked at her.

  “Ah, come on, Marcus, this was fun -- a much better tip than I’m used to getting ‑- but this is you and me.” Grimacing, she shook her head in mock horror. “We’re not the type to settle down.”

  “Oh, we’re not, are we?”

  Lola couldn’t tell if Marcus was serious or not. His expression was lighthearted, but something in his tone told her she was walking a fine line. “No.” She smiled. “So can I have my panties back?”

  “I’ll give them to you on one condition.”

  Warning bells started dinging again. Lola thought back to times before when he said he would do something on one condition. It had never ended well for her then, either. “What?”

  “You have to come over to my house tonight and get them.”

  “Is that all?” It sounded too good to be true. He would give her back the evidence, plus put them in a situation where they could fool around again. It seemed like a win-win situation for her.

  “For now.” Now that sounded like the Marcus she knew and lov-- no, not loved. Knew and tolerated. Looking down at her crumpled shirt, Lola groaned. “Damn it, my shirt is all wrinkled.”

  “I could keep it, like your panties, if you liked,” Marcus offered with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  Lola rolled her eyes at his comment. “Thanks, but I’ll keep it.”

  Turning to walk away, she stopped dead in her tracks when he called out to her. “Hey, Vi.”

  “What?” Leave it to Marcus to ruin a perfectly good afterglow.

  “Thanks for my lunch. It was ... hot.”

  Opening the door, Lola left without reply. The sound of Marcus’s laughter ringing in her head followed her all the way out of his office shop and into the deli. For once, it didn’t piss her off.

  Sneaking back into the diner was another thing, of course. It was like her mother had radar and could instantly sense when the wind changed.

  Lola ignored her mother’s knowing smirk and tried to ease past Julia to her office.

  “You were gone awfully long, chére. Anything I should be telling your poppa about?”

  “Yea. Victor’s putting too much salt in the roux.”

  Julia’s eyes narrowed as she took Lola’s arm and shuffled her to the corner of the kitchen. “Don’t toy with me, chére. I was mooning with boys way before you were a twinkle in your poppa’s eye.”

  “Thanks for the metaphors, Mamma, but I have to get back to work.”

  “Fine,” Julia fumed. “Who cares if your dear, sweet poppa and I never get to play with one of your bébés. I guess will have to just make do with your cousin Dawn’s children.”

  “Sounds great,” Lola said, trying to walk around her.

  “Tsk,” Julia frowned up at Lola. “Do you not care about my feelings?”

  “Do you care about mine?” The hurt look etched so dramatically on her mother’s face made Lola wonder, and not for the first time, why her mother never performed on stage. Her long-suffering sigh was the thing legends were made of.

  “Well, you better deal with somebody before you end up a vielle fille, all alone like your aunt Rita, God bless her soul.” Julia quickly followed that saying by crossing herself as usual.

  Sighing, Lola looked at her mother with a mixture of amusement and frustration. It was hard to stay mad at someone who was just so over the top. “Aunt Rita isn't dead, Ma. It’s sacrilegious for you to cross yourself every time you say her name.”

  “She might as well be.” Julia shook her head sadly over her poor single sister’s fate. “That one well never catch a man.”

  “She's a lesbian, Ma. I don't think she wants to catch one,” Lola reminded her mother for the hundredth time.

  “Ech, she just hasn't met the right man.” Julia slashed her hand through the air as if she could just wave away Rita’s sexuality.

  Lola bent down and kissed her mother on her creased forehead. “You’re priceless, you know.”

  * * * * *

  “Knock, knock,” whispered Rylee, poking her head around the corner of Lola’s office. Looking up from her phone call, Lola smiled and gestured for her to come in.

  Shutting the door, Rylee leaned against the wall, waiting for Lola to finish the call. As soon as she hung up, Rylee asked, “So what was so freaking important, I had skip lunch to come over here? You know Landon is th
e boss from hell, and if I don’t eat something now, Dr. Demonic won’t let me stop again until it’s quitting time.”

  “Stop calling him that. Landon’s going to catch you and fire your ass.”

  “You know he won’t fire me. Hell, he practically begged me to take the job. I’m the only one who’ll put up with his shit.”

  Lola burst out laughing. “Why don’t you just give the guy a break?”

  Rolling her eyes, Rylee countered, “I’ll do it as soon as you and Marcus stop fighting and make with the loving.”

  “Well, then, you better go back to work with a box of donuts and a winning smile.”

  Rylee sat up slowly, her mouth hanging wide open. “Shut up. You did not.”

  “Yes, I did.” Lola was enjoying the look of disbelief on Rylee’s face. It was almost as good as the sex was. Well, okay, not almost, but close.

  “When?” Rylee demanded.

  “Oh, about two hours ago, when I delivered his lunch.”

  “When did you put coochie on the menu?” Rylee joked, leaning back again and crossing her legs. She looked like she was there for the long haul now.

  “Shut up.” Lola blushed. They were the sharing type of friends, but this was a bit disconcerting. She had been griping and bitching about Marcus for as long as she could remember, and no one was more amazed than her that they’d had sex.

  “Hell, no, I’m not shutting up, and you, either, heifer. I want it all, from the nitty to the gritty. Give me all the good stuff.”

  “You know, if you got laid yourself, this wouldn’t be an issue, chére.”

  “I’m waiting for Mr. Right,” Rylee quipped, her usual answer for her nonexistent sex life. “But you, on the other hand, explain to me how Marcus went from the embodiment of evil to nooner nookie material.”

  It was the same question Lola had been asking herself all afternoon. So she gave Rylee the only answer she had come up with. “I have absolutely no idea.”

  A smile spread across Rylee’s pretty face. “That’s the best reason I’ve ever heard.”

  Groaning, Lola plopped her head in her hands. “What was I thinking?”

  “‘Harder, faster, don’t stop,’ I’m guessing,” Rylee teased.

  Looking up, Lola shot Rylee an evil look. “You’re not helping, Ry.”

  “I didn’t think you needed my help. What could I have done, besides bring a camera and charge a viewer fee?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Lola smiled. Even when she was feeling low, Rylee had a way of making her smile. “What am I going to do?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Sure you do,” Rylee argued, no longer smiling. “This thing has been coming for a long time. Why not just sit back and enjoy it?”

  “Because ... Marcus ... it’s ... See, the thing between Marcus and me is a bit mind-boggling.”

  “No, why people keep letting their kids spend the night at Michael Jackson’s house is mind-boggling. The thing between you and Marcus makes perfect sense.”

  Snorting, Lola asked, “Then, could you explain it to me? Because I’m all kinds of confused.”

  “He picks on you to get your attention. You pick back for the same reason. You guys have been doing it so long it’s practically foreplay. He likes seeing you get all riled, and you like bringing him down a notch. It’s a bit off, but it works for you two.”

  “But I don’t want it to.”

  “For God’s sake, why? Marcus adores you, and obviously you feel the same way. You wouldn’t have slept with him if you didn’t.”

  “Because Marcus is just another reason for me to stay here,” Lola finally admitted, to herself and to Rylee. She had been so busy trying to get out of Torrance that she had built up walls and barriers to keep Marcus out. She knew he loved it here and would never want to leave.

  “Would it be so bad to stay, Lo?”

  “Yes.” But for the first time, she wasn’t so sure. She had wanted to leave for as long as she could remember. She didn’t want a reason to stay.

  “Then you need to end it before you get more involved.”

  That was easier said than done. Even if Lola wanted to call it quits, she doubted Marcus was going to be so easily deterred. He was stubborn as hell, and he’d never backed down from a fight yet.

  Chapter Five

  Marcus could always leave it up to Lola to do the unthinkable. Only his girl could switch roles and do the whole “I don’t want to commit” thing. Normally that was his role in relationships, but leave it to Lola to flip it around on him.

  It wasn’t like he had been about to drop down on one knee and propose right then and there. Which was a good thing, seeing as how Lola had run straight out like a bat out of hell. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said she was scared, but that wasn’t like Lola. She’d never run from anything in her entire life, especially him. It was a little unnerving to think of Lola scared. It messed with Marcus’s sense of reality. Actually, this entire day had fucked with his head.

  He pulled out the panties he’d been carrying around with him all day. Even after he’d come home, showered, and changed, he had taken them out of his work pants and shoved them in his jeans pocket. It might be a little freaky, but Marcus liked carrying something of hers around. It made him feel closer to her. Probably the closest he was going to get, if he left it up to Lola.

  Their brief encounter in his office this afternoon had set off a chain reaction of emotions in him, filling him with a sense of rightness that was even a bit scary to him. Unlike Lola, who was running scared, Marcus wasn’t ready to give up. He loved her, and he was pretty damn sure she loved him, too. They had been fighting too long and too hard for it to just be an attraction. Besides, it felt right. Marcus knew he couldn’t have been the only one feeling it, but he was willing to bet Lola was going to try to think of a way to brazen herself out of this relationship.

  Marcus had worked himself into a fine fit by the time Lola rang the doorbell. Just thinking about her running away pissed him off. He hadn’t set the mood he’d originally intended when he had coerced her over. Opening the door, Marcus prepared himself for a blast of her temper, but was stunned when she looked up and smiled.

  “Hey.” Lola said, stepping around him, walking into his house. She looked around his living room, checking out his house for the first time. Marcus looked around, too, trying to see what she would see.

  His house was reasonably clean. He had a housekeeper who came twice a week, and he picked up after himself regularly. The forest-green couches weren’t exactly chic, but they were long enough to fit his lengthy frame and dark enough to hide stains. As far as Marcus was concerned, that was all that was required of furniture. He was a simple man with simple tastes, but he wasn’t sure if Lola would see it as a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Nice place. It’s nice to be in a house without huge pictures of magnolias on the wall.”

  “Mom got them for me as housewarming presents, but I have them stashed in the guest closet.”

  Chuckling, Lola sat down on the couch. “What does she say about them not being on the wall?”

  Marcus joined her on the couch, a bit wary of her pleasant attitude. “She doesn’t come over much, something about my place being a den of sin.”

  “Momma knows best.”

  Something was up. Lola was being pleasant. Too pleasant for his peace of mind. “Okay, what gives, chére?”

  Lola gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

  “You seem in an awful good mood for ... well, for you.”

  “Are you actually complaining because I’m not fighting with you?”

  Put that way, it did seem a bit stupid, but Marcus wasn’t sure what to make of this new, unfussy Lola. “No, but I’m not getting it.”

  “Can’t I be nice?”

  “Not without an ulterior motive.”

  “You invited me over, not the other way around.” Lola stood up haughtily, a bit of he
r temper beginning to come back. Marcus sighed in relief. Now, this Lola he understood. “Don’t get huffy; I was just asking.

  “You have some serous issues.” Lola frowned, sitting back down. “First you complain I’m being too nice. Now you’re telling me not to get upset. Make up your mind.”

  “Explain the mood swing and I’ll explain the change.”

  “I don’t know, Marcus. Sheesh! Can’t I be nice? Do you really want to keep fighting all the time?”

  “No, not necessarily, but I don’t want you to be anyone but you.” Marcus wasn’t sure if it was true, though. Lola was talking about changing the dynamics of their relationship. He liked their relationship, especially the new and improved part where they were sleeping together.

  “Well, this is just a part of me you’ve never seen.”

  Well, that was obvious. “How come?”

  “Because you bring out the other part.”

  Scooting closer to her, Marcus draped his arm around the back of the couch, cornering her a bit. She looked good in his house, like she belonged. “Why do you think that is, chére? I mean, I hate to admit it, but I do kind of like getting under your skin.”

  “Why?”

  “Probably the same reason you like doing it to me. I like the rise I get out of you. I know that no one else can get you as hot as I can, in bed and out.”

  “You’re so conceited.”

  “Tell me it’s not true.” Marcus brushed his lips against the nape of her neck. Damn, she smelled good. She had obviously gone home and changed, because she was wearing jeans and a pearl-colored T-shirt. She must have taken a shower when she got home; she smelled like guava, and something else he couldn’t describe. Whatever it was, she smelled great.

  “It’s true; you’re conceited.”

  Marcus nipped at her, causing her to giggle in protest. “Bebette. Tell me what I want to hear.”