by Shae Black
Padding through the house on my way to my room I stop to admire the billion-and-one roses and I notice my dress from last night hanging where it was yesterday but now in a clear plastic bag; it’s been cleaned. My shoes sit on the floor under the dress, and the lingerie from Marcus is folded neatly on my bed. This shit is so weird it’s like having little invisible fairies that swoop in undetected and complete tasks that I’ve always done myself.
After putting the dress and shoes in my closet and lingerie in the dresser, I pull out my phone. Checking my calendar I wonder, when am I going to have this get-together? Maybe if I don’t make the plans he’ll forget about it…humph, yea right. If I don’t do it he will, that man is an amazing at planning and coordinating; anyone who can run multiple restaurants all over the world could easily throw together little a dinner party. Planning is not my forte. That’s when I get the idea; it makes me nervous but my curiosity is, as usual, stronger than my fear. I say a little prayer that this isn’t a mistake…
Chapter 30
It took a couple of hours to call everyone; mom was hesitant, she knows something’s up, mother’s intuition or whatever- she said she would tell dad about the dinner party. Lana went with her usual game of twenty questions; I did the best I could without actually telling her I was moving in with Marcus. She was ruthless and annoying, but I love her for caring. The other girls were just excited to come to Marcus’s house and meet my mystery man. My last call wasn’t answered; I left a message for Elena and crossed my fingers that she would hear it. I was a little surprised everyone was available this upcoming weekend, I hadn’t checked with Marcus on the date but I was pretty sure he would rearrange his entire life to host this party. Not sure who to check with about the actual dinner plans, I went to Maria first.
“You should ask Mr. Castillo, Ms. Imani; he sometimes has us prepare for parties but he might want his chef from Dominus to come again, like last night….” She’s looking at me with concern but I’m not letting on that I know she or someone on Marcus’s staff had to clean up all the glass on the floor in the dining room last night. Maybe I should say something…she probably thinks that we had a fight, better to clear it up now and avoid any rumors.
“I’m sorry about the mess last night Maria, it was my fault, I got a little…carried away.”
“You okay Ms. he didn’t hurt you did he?” Whenever I hear the unease in someone’s voice when they speak of Marcus I wonder what the hell he used to do to all of these people. She does think we fought, shit.
“No, no Maria, it wasn’t like that at all.” I have no idea how to tell her I was so overcome with passion that I walked the dining room table like a runway and fucked her boss at the end of it after destroying everything in my path.
“Oh okay, it’s none of my business I just wanted to make sure you’re ok,” She says with her thick Spanish accent, obviously not believing a single word I’ve said. Well I can’t do anything about that, she’ll just have to see he’s changed; he’s a different man now, and he loves me. “
Ok I’ll check with him, thank you Maria.” Mr. Black enters the kitchen silently, catching the end of our conversation.
“Everything okay Imani?” he asks, pouring a cup of coffee. I wonder what he does all day when he’s not driving Marcus, and how he feels about my taking over that job temporarily. From his tone I suspect he thinks Marcus and I fought last night as well.
“Yes, of course, fine Mr. Black, how about you?”
“Good.” He’s a man of few words, but his expression says it all; he’s concerned, irritated, and curious.
“Well that’s good to hear. Hey good news! You can have your driving job back soon, I’m going back to work at the hospital next week,” I announce.
Two very surprised faces gape at me momentarily before quickly regaining their composure, Mr. Black is first. “So…you’ll not be working for Mr. Castillo anymore?” he asks.
“No, he doesn’t really need professional care. He’s pretty good with those crutches and as I’m sure you know, fiercely independent.”
Should I tell them I’m trading the nursing gig for the girlfriend gig? Maybe Marcus wants to be the one to tell his staff? Fuck it, I’m telling them, Maria looks worried and Mr. Black smug, screw him. “I won’t be leaving though I’m just not working as his nurse. Marcus has asked me to move in.…to live with him.” So how ya like that Mr. Black?
“Oh my God, my Jesus and holy mother Mary, my prayers have been answered!” Maria exclaims, making the sign of the cross over her body while Mr. Black remains void of all expression. Maria’s enthusiasm surprises me, I wonder what exactly her prayers were….
“Well welcome then Ms. Jefferson, no going back now,” Mr. Black comments cryptically. He’s just trying to rattle me, isn’t he? Yes of course he is… He doesn’t like me, or my being here.
“Thank you Mr. Black,” I say smiling sweetly, I’m not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that I’m wondering what the hell his comment meant, no way! But I am…wondering and worrying. If Marcus were here I’d be in big trouble, he’s supposed to worry for both of us, maybe I should bring it up? Honesty is the best policy right? I dun no, maybe not. After the way Marcus went off on Mr. Black when he accidentally walked in on us the other day, I think I’ll be cautious. Better just wait and see how it all plays out; maybe it’s nothing, I hope. “I think I’ll take a walk outside through the garden, it looks so beautiful.”
“Yes, yes, Ms. you want me to ask Mr. Castillo about your dinner for you?” Maria asks. “No that’s ok, I’ll ask him about it later, he said he had work to do, and I’d hate to bother him.”
“Yes Ma’am.” Mr. Black nods as I head off to get my coat from the closet in the foyer. I haven’t explored outside at all other than the front driveway and the steps going back and forth to the car and ambulance. It’s not too cold today, chilly but bearable. Wearing a knee-length dress with a sweater that’s the same length and brown riding boots, I set out on my spur of the moment walk. I needed to get out of that kitchen and stay busy but I don’t feel like changing my clothes. Wrapping my scarf around my neck twice I step into the brisk, fall air and choose the stone path on my left that leads around a stone tower to the back the house. Even in the fall the gardens are stunning, I crunch through the amber- and yellow-colored leaves wind whipping my hair back. I inhale the smell of a fireplace burning; it’s probably Marcus’s. That thing’s going to burn a hole through the ozone someday. When I look out past artfully sculpted shrubs to the cold ocean water a vision of Marcus sinking into the freezing water of a river trapped inside his car with his dead friend floating next to him fills my mind. A sudden shiver travels through my body and I stop to sit on a bench at the center of the garden. Marcus has recently been through such a traumatic event, how does he just breeze through the death of the women he was sleeping with, a coma, a brain tumor and broken leg? This is such a bad time to be getting involved, post-traumatic stress disorder could be part of the reason he is so attached to me. He may need me right now, but when he’s through the PTSD and back to himself, God forbid, will he feel differently? I know my own experience took years and years of therapy and I’ll never get over it. But now I’m able to look back and see it as my past. I’ve dealt with it and moved on as best as I can. Does Marcus need therapy, would he accept it even if he did? Would he still love me if he knew exactly what happened to me? He knows I was kidnapped, raped and tortured, but not to what extent. He doesn’t know about the surgeries I had to endure to repair the physical damage, hell I don’t even look like I used to. I’ve had plastic surgery on most of my face, my parents took out multiple loans to pay for the surgery that repaired my perineum and rectum, allowing me to go to the bathroom like a normal woman, to have sex without pain; even though I had never chosen to test that out until now I was made whole again physically, but no surgery could heal me emotionally.
My attackers were pure evil, and one of them is still out there. I thank God I don’t look the same, it�
�s the only reassurance that keeps me from being completely paranoid. Intensive therapy helped me overcome some of my fears…and the surgery, of course the surgery. Ok enough; I’m up to continue my walk, but before I can take a step I feel his eyes on me. I turn to see Marcus standing at a window in the house upstairs looking down at me. He’s dressed in a charcoal suit with a lavender shirt open at the collar his brow is furrowed and his mouth is in a straight line, as he was watches me worry. Caught again, shit. He looks good enough to eat even with the frown, but no way am I going back inside now. I smile and give him a little wave, which has no effect on his expression, and then turning I head in the opposite direction from the house, away from him. I’m in trouble and I know it.
In the distance I catch sight of a beautiful wrought iron and gate surrounded by heavy stone that matches the house. It’s placed at one end of a garden path with just a stone wall mirroring it on the opposite end. The iron is fashioned into flowers half way up with an open circle through the top half it’s so unique. I can imagine vines and flowers covering it in the summer. Making my way toward the gate, my thoughts drift to summer, my favorite season. This place must be amazing in full bloom what a gorgeous place to entertain. I wonder if Marcus has ever had a get-together out here? If not we should, we, so weird to think of us that way in the future, together, living here. I step up to the gate ready to explore and I nearly jump out of my own skin screaming when Marcus appears there, on the other side. He opens the gate for me.
“Shit, shit, shit Marcus, you fucking scared me!” I say, jumping up and down shaking my hands loosely with the adrenaline rush pulsing through my body. He reaches for me and I walk into his arms, hampered only slightly by the crutches as I wrap my body around him
“I didn’t mean to startle you, but you know I saw you from the house, worrying again. I thought we had that all handled.” Keeping my face pressed into his chest, I raise my fists to pound pathetically on him a few times, along with my signature foot stomp.
“YOU had this all handled.” I say, I am doing the best I can, which obviously is not very good!” “Shhh, tell me what you are worrying about so I can do it for you.”
“Marcus there are some things you just can’t do for me, I have my own worries, they’re mine, I have to deal with them myself.”
“You looked so forlorn, I will not see you like that Imani, it kills me to see you troubled.”
“I understand you want to protect me from everything, but it’s just not possible or realistic. And if you want to know one of the things I was thinking about I’ll tell you. I think you need to see a therapist about your accident, that was a very traumatic, and Megan’s death, I think you should talk to somebody about it.” I bite my lip looking at him. This could go so many different ways. He continues to stare over my head toward the water.
“Yes, maybe.” My mouth pops open, shocked that he’s agreed so easily. He lifts his finger to my chin, closing my mouth. “Don’t look so surprised baby, I told you nothing could hurt us, as long as we’re together, I’ll do whatever it takes. I refuse to see you worrying though. What else were you thinking about? You said ‘one of the things’.” This one is a little harder to talk about, but if he’s willing to do whatever it takes then so am I.
“I was…I was thinking about the effects of my attack on me and how much therapy it took for me to get past it. And that I haven’t really told you everything about it, not exactly anyway.” He wraps his big hand around the back of my head, pressing my cheek against his chest. “You are the strongest woman I have ever known, along with my Aunt Angelica, the obstacles you have overcome so far in your life would have crushed any other women. But you went on to build a good life, you’re successful, healthy and stable, it’s a miracle you’re even here right now, my miracle. And if you had not fought so hard I wouldn’t have you, you would not have been there in that ICU to save me. I don’t need to know the details of the horror you endured, unless you want me to. I’m just grateful to have you.” We stand there a while just like that, holding each other in silence until I make a decision. Pulling away, I look up at Marcus, and he lowers his gaze to mine.
“I want you to know, I need you to know. If we’re going to be together you have to know my fears, my limits….”
“All right then, you can tell me anything and everything, but right now I have other plans for you,” he says, winking as he backs me toward the garden gate with amazing grace considering he’s on crutches.
“You do?” This conversation just went from deeply serious to flirty and sexy in a flash, only. Marcus could do that.
“Yes Ms. Jefferson I do indeed, and they include you pressed against this gate, skirt around your waist with me between your legs, chasing away your worries.” He isn’t serious is he? Outside in the garden, in the cold, now!
“I can still read your mind baby and yes, right here, right now.” How the hell did he do that? We step together until my back touches the cold iron of the gate. Without a single part of us touching, he leans down covering my mouth with his, the heat of his breath warming me against the cool fall air. He’s tender at first, exploring with his tongue, as if it were our first kiss, but then again every time feels like the first time with him. His baby kisses the corners of my mouth alternating with deep soul searching plunges. I move to touch him, I want to put my hands on his chest but he takes my wrists and moves them down on either side of me, working my fingers around the iron bars of the gate.
“Stay,” he rasps in my ear, returning to my mouth before working his way down my neck, occasionally he nips and bites and every time it’s followed by a whimper. Finally his hands are on me, and even through my thick wool coat and my sweater his touch sets my skin on fire, smoothing down over my shoulders, down to my breasts, my waist and then the hem of my dress. Oh God, we’re really going to do this right here in the garden aren’t we? My breath comes in quick pants as I tried to verbalize my concern about public displayed of affection, but he stills me with his lips on my neck until I relax and obey the command he communicates with only his body; stop worrying and let it happen. It’s loud and clear, and I respond by thrusting my hips toward him. I may have to keep my hands on these bars, but he never said anything about the rest of me.
“Mmmm so responsive, even through all these clothes I feel your need baby,” he murmurs, working my dress up he runs his hands over my bare ass. I suck in a breath when the cold gate presses against my skin and Marcus leans harder on his crutches to reach behind me. He slides one hand down my leg pulling it up from behind my knee to his waist and I wrap it around him eagerly. “I’m going to fuck the worry right out of you Ms. Jefferson…. up against this gate…outside in this garden.” he whispers. Promise or warning I don’t care which.
“Please…” I manage. He squats down in front of me with his crutches leaning on either side of me against the gate. He maneuvers his broken leg so it’s bent at the knee the other one supporting his entire weight. Instinctually my hands move to help him but he shakes his head no, he’s in total control so I put them back. One leg draped over his shoulder he trails kisses along the inside of my thigh until he arrives at the spot where I’m on fire for him. He moves my thong aside and buries his face between my legs, taking my breath away. He circles my clit with his tongue expertly alternating the motion with long soft licks. I gasp and white-knuckle the gate until he brings me close to passing out from the overwhelming pleasure of it all. Suddenly the cool weather is more than welcome; my skin is blazing under his touch. My hips thrust into Marcus’s face and I jerk against the gate, rattling it noisily with not one thought of knocking him off of his vicariously balanced foot. I am so close to losing it when suddenly he pulls away and stands on that one good foot. I instantly mourn the absence of his mouth on me.
The world around us no longer exists. Everything around us falls away leaving just the two of us, no garden, no house, and no staff watching us, no ocean or gate, just Marcus and I. Taking my face in his hands he bends until ou
r eyes meet. Eyes locked with mine let’s go of me to unbuckle his belt and free his stone-hard cock from his pants. Between my legs again he slides his length along my folds teasing my core mercilessly.
“You want this inside of you baby?” he says, holding my hips with both hands for balance. I nod two quick nods in the affirmative and he enters me with such force that the gate rattles loudly echoing through the garden. My feet are momentarily lifted off the ground from the force of his thrust. I moan and hold on tight as he slams into me over and over. Groaning with every thrust the gate clangs as he covers my mouth with his. I can taste myself on him, salty like the ocean. “I have no fucking control with you Imani, I want to take my time but once I’m inside…the fucking animal in me takes over.” He says claiming my mouth so that we are joined together in every way that two people can physically be. I’m getting so damn close and Marcus senses it, he digs his fingers under my ass tilting me just slightly until he’s repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside of me that causes me to burst open, spilling out my orgasm in fits of spasms as I hold my breath. I tighten around him until he follows with a loud groan. Gasping and gulping in air until we return slowly to reality.
“You can let go now,” He whispers in my ear, a drop of sweat running down the side of his face onto mine.
“Oh..” I hadn’t realized I still had a death grip on the iron bars of the gate, when I let go my hands tingle with the return of blood flow.