But I kept singing. “See my desire, see my hunger, meet my passion.”
He moved closer to my sofa. “Please stop,” he softly warned again, his eyes on my lips.
I should have stopped there. “Well, my George did a fine job,” I said and played “Fast Love”. “I love him,” I said dreamily.
“He’s a nice bloke.”
“I know; I’ve met him. He’s a sweetheart.” I held up my hand. “This is my part.” I started to sing with my eyes closed completely, surrendering to the song. I love middle eight of that song; it’s just amazing. George just says it like it is. He wants sex and he wants it now. Call it a quick fix or pure escape; it doesn’t matter! And he wants it in the BMW, none the less. That’s the kind of song we should have been writing,
I opened up my eyes again and faced a very intense look from Marcus. Have I missed something?
“That’s the type of song we should be writing, don’t you think?” I asked him. My breathing was getting faster and Marcus was getting closer and closer. And before I knew it, he started kissing me and it looked like he wasn’t ready to stop.
Who’s to blame for this turn of events? I don’t know how to stop it or even if I want to. Marcus’ mouth on mine feels amazing; we’ve both been holding ourselves back for so long. We can let ourselves go for another minute. I pull him closer to deepen the kiss.
“Luce, it’s been so long…too long,” he whispers on top of my mouth, before kissing me again.
Okay, just another minute then I’ll stop. I place my legs on his hips and pull him even closer. This isn’t what I meant! Marcus is now positioning himself between them and is completely on the sofa with me. I should really put an end to this. I tighten my grip on his hips and can feel his erection against me. His hands leave my back and travel all the way down under my dress.
“Yes…oh yes. You’re driving me crazy…so crazy,” he moans while kissing my neck.
I need to walk away from this, from him. I arc my back towards him and moan each time I feel his touch. I’m moaning? What the hell is wrong with me?
“Luce, I want you so much,” he whispers, his mouth so close to my breasts now. His hand is caressing my stomach, playing with my navel; the other one is successfully attempting to remove my panties. My Panties!
Marcus stares back at me, “Luce…I…” but he kisses me instead.
It can’t happen like this, in the middle of the day, in the middle of John’s living room, where anyone could just show up. I deserve more than this. I’ve got to get out of here. Now. Otherwise I won’t be able to stop. I really… really want him too.
“Marcus…” I moan between kisses.
“Yes, Luce…anything you want,” he moans back.
“Please get off me,” I whisper, unable to look at him.
He stops and slowly removes his hands. “What?”
I slowly slide away from him and try to adjust my hair, my dress, my panties and my dignity. I’m shaken so hard it’s not easy. I find my shoes and put my laptop back in its case. Poor Marcus; he looks so shaken and lost. His hair is messy and he keeps pushing it nervously away from his face. He looks so sexy. God, I really need to leave.
“I’m sorry, Luce. But please don’t go; not like this. Please!” he pleads while following me to the door.
I can’t look at him. “Could you please open it?” I pull away from his touch. We’re both still breathing so hard. “Please, Marcus.”
“This is not over; we need to talk,” he tells me, but then lets me through.
I can still feel the heat of his eyes on me when I get to the elevator. Don’t follow me, please don’t follow. Thankfully he doesn’t; I hear the door closing at the same time the elevator does.
Twenty voice messages, seventy texts and forty-eight missed calls. All unanswered by me. I read and listened the first few yesterday after I got home, but I wasn’t ready to talk to him just yet. I honestly thought he would have stopped after a couple of hours.
“Your phone is ringing again, Luce,” Beesly says next to me. She looks at me through my inside bathroom mirrors. “What number is this one?” Her makeup artist is putting the final touches on her makeup before starting mine.
The phone indicates the new voicemail. “Twenty-one and forty nine,” I reply. Her personal hairdresser is doing wonders on my hair. She put it in a loose bun but left a few strands in strategic places.
“Wow, Marcus? That must have been one hell of a kiss!” Beesly says, smiling. Her makeup and hair are done. She leaves her chair and takes off her robe. “I’m just happy the both of you got this out of your system.” She’s wearing a Gucci, simple, black dress that I had picked out for her last week, which was delivered this afternoon. She looks very pretty and classy with the dark-red pumps and bag. I also told her to wear her teardrop, diamond earrings.
“You look so elegant, B. I like that look on you,” I tell her.
“Not too conservative?”
I laugh. “No, just really classy.” My makeup is nearly done and our car should be here in five minutes. “Thank you, ladies, all three of you. It’s a big night for my sister and I need to look great for her.” I take off my robe and look at myself in the mirror.
“It was my pleasure, Luce. You look fantastic. I’m so proud to be your date tonight.” She gives me an air kiss.
I’m wearing my open-toe, purple pumps with their matching bag and our family sapphire jewelry set. “Thank you. The pleasure is all mine,” I say, opening the main door for all us.
The car is waiting for us downstairs. We get in for a twenty minute ride to the fashion district for the awaiting private party.
Beesly surprised me by arriving on Thursday night instead of this morning. Her mentorship finished earlier than scheduled so she decided to take the next fly back to Toronto. I’ve been hearing about it for the past twenty-four hours. After she kept seeing my phone buzzing over and over again on the table I had to explain to her what had happened with Marcus. So far she’s the only I’ve told; Noor and Axelle don’t need to get involved.
We arrive at the event and I can already see the paparazzi from our limousine. Great publicity for us! Beesly will definitely make some best-dressed lists. She gets out of the car first and waves at the small crowd of people and photographs. I can hear it from here; my girl is a hit. I follow shortly behind, but Beesly stops and waits for me.
“You don’t have too,” I whisper, smiling at the cameras.
“You’re kidding! You’re the best accessories a girl can have.”
We finally get inside after a few dozen or so pictures are taken. I recognize a few people and introduce Beesly to them. She does the same for the people she knows but I don’t. So far, so good. We keep working the crowd, drinking champagne and snacking on hors d’oeuvres. Neither Axelle nor Noor are here yet. After my second glass, I go to the bathroom for a lipstick touch up. I check my phone; two more texts from Marcus and one from Axelle saying they arrived with the lady of the night. I’ll deal with the Marcus mess tomorrow. Noor is close to the stage when I come out. She looks ravishing. She changed her hair color to light brown and is wearing it completely straight. We couldn’t be more different-looking tonight. Beesly is alone with her. I better go to them now.
“Damn, girl, you clean up good,” Noor says.
“Must be a family thing. I like your hair, Noor,” I say.
“So does Andrew.” She winks, a big grin across her face. Good, no more holding out.
“You two look so sexy and beautiful,” Beesly genuinely tells us.
“Beesly, I have to say I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than tonight,” Noor tells her with a nice smile. Thank you, Noor.
Beesly blushes. “It’s all Lucia’s doing from the dress to my hair. She did good,” she says, hugging me.
At that moment, Axelle, Paul and Andrew are coming toward us. Not far behind them are John, Nella and Marcus.
“What took you so long?” Noor asks as Andrew gives her glass of champagne.
&
nbsp; “We met a few friends at the bar,” Axelle says. She points to Paul and Marcus. “And those two kept chatting like old ladies.” She turns to me. “Luce my love, you look amazing.” Another embrace, another air kiss, no makeup ruined. She, as usual, looks splendid.
I keep avoiding looking at Marcus. I should have known that John had an invitation to this party. I kiss Paul and Andrew but especially hug Paul. “You’re looking good, old chum,” I laugh . I have missed him.
“And you, Baby Luce,” he says matching my tone. I turn to John and Nella to say hi and we all start to talk. I don’t know if anyone has noticed that Marcus and I are not talking but no one is mentioning it. We end up spreading across the room after a few minutes and I head straight to the bar for my third and last coupe.
“Now that’s cheating, Luce.”
I turn around and face Marcus my drink in hand. “Sorry?”
“How can I be mad at you when you look like this?” he adds with a smile. He keeps getting closer and closer.
“Marcus…not here,” I awkwardly say, trying to walk away. But he smoothly grabs my hand and kisses it. “What are you doing?”
“You look…stunning, Luce. Please don’t run away again. We need to talk,” he then whispers in my ear. He softly kisses my neck and lingers.
“There’s no going back is there?” I whisper, my eyes completely closed.
“No.”
I take a deep breath. “Okay then.” I surrender. I look at his gorgeous face. He looks so nice tonight in his dark, fitted suit but with Converse and nice T-shirt. “You don’t have to look so smug about it.”
“Are you joking? Smug? I left you a hundred messages! I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever done that,” he says.
“Well, I can’t remember the last time I ran away from someone’s place like that. I guess we’re even.”
“Right, not even close, but I’ll let you know,” he says. He’s still holding my hand and is now firmly holding onto it before leading us back to Noor, Beesly and Axelle. He’s not letting go of it, I realize when I try to get away. So, here we all are, casually talking about the album, Noor’s article and upcoming wedding, my hand still very much entwines with Marcus’. He sometimes gently kisses it in between sentences or puts it on his hips and nobody seems to mind. After a couple of hours of small talks and networking my legs are beginning to hurt. If I was free of my own movements I would have been sitting somewhere for a little while. I signal Noor and Axelle from across the room.
“Blink twice if you need help,” Noor mouths.
I blink as much as I can. Noor says something to Axelle. Yes, freedom at last. Axelle says something back and they both smile and wave at me.
“You wretched witches!”
“What? Are you alright?” Marcus asks me. He’s talking to John and me to Nella.
“My feet hurts and I need use the loo,” I sulk with an embarrassed smile.
Marcus releases my hand. “Of course. See you back here in a bit.”
I walk to the washroom. Why didn’t I think about doing this earlier? I wash my hands and wait five more minutes before going out. No Marcus in sight, but I can see they have started the music. It’s a room full of professionally trained dancers. We all know how it’s going to end; there will be a dance off before the end of the night. Someone grabs my arm and pulls me back in the private alley leading to the washroom. It’s Marcus. He pulls me tight against him and kisses me.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he moans in between kisses. His hands are caressing my face, my neck.
I gently push him off me and switch our position, putting my back on the wall and grabbing his jacket. He lowers his head to my neck and caresses it with his nose. If I keep moaning any louder we’re going to attract attention. Out of the blue, Marcus is carrying me, wrapping my legs around his thighs. We both laugh. To say that we have both lost our minds is an understatement. My hands have been under his shirt; I’m not really sure how we could even be standing right now.
He slowly puts me down and says, “Lucia, what have you done to me?”
I try to fix myself up. “I was about to ask you the same thing.” I give him a quick kiss. Then another one and another one. “Okay, stay away from me please…” I whisper. I laugh and grab his hand and lead him back to the party.
As predicted, the dance floor is full of dancers showing off their skills. I search for Beesly and find her, Callia and Lloyd in what seems to be a very interesting conversation. We are about to join them when “Hot N Cold” by Katy Perry starts.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, releasing his hand.
I join Noor, Andrew and the rest of the dancers. This is one of those routines we all know and have to do every time the song is on, flash-mob style. I see Nella a couple rows ahead of me with John doing the routine. As I’m dancing I check up on Marcus; he’s sitting next to Beesly, cheering us on. After the song, I hug Noor and go back to Marcus but he meets me half way.
“We’re leaving,” he says, taking my hand. “I have your purse.”
“But the music is just getting good,” I insincerely pout. I move my head to the “Part Time Lover” beats.
“Are you serious?” he says.
I nod.
“Alright, one more song then we’re on our way. We need to…talk, remember?”
I drag him on the dance floor with me. “Okay, RAM boy,” I say, putting my arms around his neck. I guess the cat is out of the bag now.
Five songs and a limousine ride later... We dropped Beesly off at my apartment and are now at John’s. Marcus is silently guiding me through the maze that is this penthouse. We finally get to one of the last rooms.
“Is this where you guys perform your rituals?” I ask, trying to calm myself down.
Marcus opens the door. “My room. John’s not into the personal touch.” He letting me in.
This room is twice the size of my own room and en suite combined. It has a large king-size bed and its own walk-in closet.
“Is that the en suite through that door?” I ask.
“It is. Go ahead if you need it.”
I sit on the bed instead and start to remove my heels, setting my poor feet free. Marcus kneels down in front of me and pulls me toward him. He releases my hair from all its pins. I shake my head for him.
“Temptress!” he hums and kisses me.
“Marcus?”
“Umm…Luce,” he answers.
“Get your hands out from under my dress please,” I murmur with a smile.
“What…? Why?” he looks at me all confused. He’s just too cute when he’s not in control.
“We’re here to talk, remember?” I tell him, standing up. “This wasn’t some kind of code? You do want to talk.” I cross my arms. Yes, Just Marcus I’m serious about this!
“Of course I want to talk. Please stop crossing your arms like that. It…displays them even more.” He passes his fingers across them. I close my eyes. “Do we have to speak right this minute?” he hoarsely says.
“Yes, we do, Marcus. Now take off your T-shirt.”
“Alright!” he takes it off and I take it from his hands and start walking toward the en suite. “Stop it right here, Luce. Where do you think you’re going?”
“To change. I’ve been eyeing that thing all night. I’m sure I look better than you in it,” I say.
Marcus takes my hand. “Oh no you don’t. I can’t touch,” he leads me back next to the bed, “but I want to see you, Luce,” he adds, sitting down.
This is not a peep show!” I laugh.
He takes his pants off; all that’s left are his breeches. He parades around me. “I take them off too if you want,” he laughs back.
“That would not be necessary, Marcus.”
I take my dress off and suddenly remember that I’m not wearing a bra. So here I am in front of him wearing only a dark, purple thong and all my jewelry. I cover my breasts and look around for his T-shirt.
“Don’t,” he takes
my hands away from them. “God, you’re so beautiful; your cute feet, your shapely legs, your flat stomach,” he softly says, looking at me. He lowers himself to my belly and kisses it. “Cocoa butter and vanilla,” he whispers to himself. “Why so shy? You’re never shy.”
“I know that. I also don’t have self-image issues. But the way you look at me I feel très…exposed.” And I’m blushing.
Marcus retrieves his T-shirt. “I better not tell you what I think about your breasts. How luscious they look and the fact that I’m completely obsessed by them,” he says so close to them I think they heard him and started to get harder. Of course he notices and comes in for a kiss. Who am I to stop him, the feel of his hard torso against them.
“Marcus,” I plead, on my toes, my arms firmly place around his neck.
“I know, Luce. Talking,” he says, giving one last kiss then he raises my arms and puts his T-shirt on me.
“Thank you.” I watch him walking back towards his bed. He doesn’t have the body of a dancer. His is leaner and taller but all the muscles are there and all are very much defined. And he’s obviously not waxing his legs or torso. “You’re beautiful too you know.” I join him and get closer to him under the covers. “However, I’m still undecided. Are you better looking with or without clothes?” I laugh.
“That’s the Lucia I know,” he says. He pulls me closer to him, our faces are so close. “This is fun.”
I caress his arm. He has multiple strange tattoos across his left one.
“Luce?”
“Um?”
“I’m not sorry about yesterday.” he catches my hand, “I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better, but you have this effect on me sometimes,” he says, kissing my hand. “If you had rung me back, I would have told you that.”
“I know. I didn’t handle it too well either. But on your friend’s sofa? Really? Are we back in high school?”
“What can I say? Heat of the moment!”
“I don’t know. Asking me for dinner – a drink, a cup of fucking tea, anything, Marcus – before trying to take my panties off!” I tell him, punching him in the arm.
“Ouch!” He pulls me into his arms. “So how about a cup of tea?”
This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad Page 12