Marcus: The M Series, Book Three

by Ryanne Anthony

  I wrapped my arms around her, pulled her to the head of the bed then released her. She rolled a little, tucking her arms under her breasts. I could see her entire burn perfectly.

  I studied it. It started just under the jaw, like flames, then down her arm. Those had to be second degree burns and the scaring was not bad. The pattern turned down her back, where it was the most pronounced. I inhaled sharply. This was third degree and it reminded me of a spider web, almost as if it were tattooed there with light red ink. I gently rubbed it. It didn't feel as rough as I thought, maybe like the back of a leaf.

  Whoever took care of her did a good job, thank God. My life would not have been worth anything if she hadn't walked into it. What would I have been, done, if she hadn’t been born?

  I kissed her shoulder then her arm and she stirred a little. I kissed her throat and she grunted and rolled on her side. Her beautiful breast played peek-a-boo with me and I took that pink nipple in my mouth and suck gently. Mariah moaned and pushed me away.

  “Marcus! Let me sleep,” she mumbled as she rolled to her other side. “Later, boo.”

  Turning her ass my way did not help my now-throbbing erection!

  Suppressing a chuckle, I shook my head and looked out the window. The beach was even more crowded; people were getting settled for the fireworks show. The view should be perfect from this balcony and I wondered if Mariah wanted to see them.

  I turned my head and looked at her sleeping, sexy body and my heart skipped, again. Yeah, I have it bad... and I love it. She wasn’t going anywhere, ever. Neither was I.

  I turned off the stereo, then clicked on the soft floor lights. I eased back in the bed and got close to Mariah. I threw the sheet over us and listened to her soft breaths. I didn't feel close enough, so I put my leg around both of hers and tightened my grip at her waist, holding her flush to me.

  Yeah, that's better, I thought, as I moved my other arm over her head. My nose was at her hair and I inhaled, deeply. Lavender scent tingled my nose. I kissed the back of her head.

  Mariah stirred and I froze. She put her hand on my thigh and stroked softly, and I prayed she’d waken so I could make love to her again. She didn't. Instead, she moved her hand to my arm finally rested her hand on mine.

  “I love you, boo,” she whispered as she falls back into sleep.

  Elated, I kissed her again. I’ll never tire of hearing her say that to me. I tightened my arm again and rest my head at her neck. I listened to her slow and even breaths, and eventually, they coaxed me into sleep.

  July 5, 2011

  Wake up sex with Mariah is by far the best way to start a day off, birthday or not. For the first time in years, I loved my birthday and it was only seven in the morning.

  Mariah spent the entire night with me and I couldn’t imagine waking up without her next to me, ever again. In the elevator, I swatted her ass and she jumped.

  “Marcus! That stung... I don't have on undies!”

  My eyes widened and I instantly got hard. That's righ, she didn't have an overnight bag, so no clean underwear. Intriguing. I eased my hand over her ass and caressed it, rubbing where the swat landed.

  “Sorry, baby. I just can't keep my hands off of you,” I mumbled at her ear, wishing I didn't have shit in my other hand so that both my hands could have the pleasure of touching this beautiful woman.

  “I ought to kick your ass for that,” she laughed.

  “I might like an ass kicking from you,” I said as I turned her to me and kissed her.

  I got pissed off when the elevator stopped.

  As she’s dropping me off at work, I introduce Mariah to my boys: Ira, Greg and Rob. Of course she completely charmed them in the eight minutes they spent with her. The woman was/is just that charismatic.

  “Way to go, Marcus,” Greg said, slapping my back. “She is seriously hot.”

  “And sweet,” Ira pipes in.

  “And mine,” I declared, smiling.

  Rob inhaled sharply. “Shit, look how hot she looks in those fucking glasses. Fuck you, Marcus, you lucky bastard!”

  I laughed with him and turned to look at her. She was looking down at something. I willed her to look up, and as she adjusted the seat belt, she finally did and my breath caught. She did look hot in those sunglasses. I smiled at her and she smiled back; my heart skipped. I was going to need a portable defibrillator and a pacemaker, soon.

  “More than you know, Rob.”

  I smiled again. She blushed, waved and drove away. I fucking missed her already.

  “Game at twelve, guys,” Ira asked.

  “Yeah, I'm in,” Rob answered.

  “So am I,” I mumbled, still looking at the back of the car. She turned left and vanished. The guys and I entered the hospital.

  “See you on the roof,” Greg said as he and Ira go left and Rob and I go right, to our respective wings.

  Rob stopped me as I was about to push the call button for the elevator.

  “I can't believe you pulled that, man. I'm fucking jealous! I spotted them first,” he laughed. “Hey, seriously, I apologize again for my comments. I really was kidding around.”

  I ignored his apology; I knew it was nothing but jokes. “You should be jealous. They don't get any better than her.”

  He paused a moment. “Marcus, I know you've dated women of color before...”

  I frowned. He never called me 'Marcus,' unless it's serious. “Of course.”

  “Has any of them ever referred to you as 'boo'?”

  “No; Mariah's the first.”

  He took a deep breath and twitched his face. “Marcus, 'boo' can mean someone really likes you, love you, even. Or really pissed and ready to kick your ass.”

  I stared at him. “What are you trying to tell me, Rob?”

  “The way Mariah looks at you, it is definitely love part. She's totally into you, man. I hope you feel the same for her. If you don't, now would be a good time to let her go. You know, sooner rather than later. You don’t want to drag a woman like that along.”

  I punched the call button then shook my head. “I feel the same way about her. More,” I told him, quietly. “I'm not letting her go. Honestly, I don’t think I could, for anything.”

  Rob slapped my back. “Best decision you’ve ever made. She is definitely a keeper.” He paused a beat. “She got a sister?”

  I laughed. “Yes, one. The strawberry blonde we saw with her. You're fucked; she's dating someone.”

  “Damn! You're kidding, right? Tell me that's a joke!”

  “Nope, and... they're Thomas Harvey's daughters.”

  Rob looked at me, stunned. “Thomas Harvey's... Where the hell has he been hiding the two of them?”

  I laughed again as we boarded the elevator. “From you, probably!”

  * * *

  A little after twelve, Rob and Michael Weiss, a plastic surgeon, are shooting warm-ups on the sunny roof of the hospital. Greg and Ira were with Bryan Walker, an internist with my father, on the other end shooting, too. I dropped my bag on the bench and stretch.

  “Yeah, I know exactly who you're talking about, Mike,” Rob said as I walked over to him and Mike. He passed me the ball, looking uncomfortable. Very unusual for Rob.

  “Well,” Mike asked, looking impatient. I stood next to Mike and dribbled. He slapped my back as a greeting. He was too eager for Rob to answer to speak or do much more.

  “Well, what,” Rob asked as he gave me a look. I shoot and the ball went in.

  “What do you know about her,” Mike asked, impatiently.

  “Um... Just that she's taken,” Rob muttered. I instantly knew he's talking about Mariah.

  “You gotta be shittin' me,” Mike uttered in disbelief.

  “It's true, Mike. I shit you not.”

  I shoot again.

  “Bullshit. You're trying to get with her,” Mike surmised, pissed off. “Just say so.”

  “Yo, Greg! Ira! You remember Mariah, right,” Rob yelled.

  “How the hell can anybody f
orget her,” Greg answered, as they walked over.

  “Wait, who is Mariah,” Bryan asked.

  “Thomas' stepdaughter. She's a float... pretty girl, black hair,” Mike answered. “Looks like summer on a fucking stick with those big, brown chipmunk eyes.”

  My hands tightened on the ball. I shot and missed.

  “I haven't seen her,” Bryan said.

  I grabbed the ball and looked over as Mike made a ‘big tits, big ass’ jester. I wanted to hit him in the head with the ball.

  “Oh, yeah... the pretty little thing with the burn,” Bryan murmured. “Hell, yeah. She was in Internal last week. She makes me wish I'd never gotten married.”

  “Yeah, her,” Mike nodded. “I wanna see for myself how far down that burn goes.”

  I missed the fucking net again. “Fuck!”

  “Cool it, Mike,” Rob demanded. “Mariah is definitely off the market, right, guys?”

  “Yep,” Ira answered. “And I don't think she's returning any time soon.”

  I smiled and shot again. All net.

  “I’m definitely into her. How do you know she's taken,” Mike asked.

  “I saw her with him. So did Greg and Ira.” Rob laughed. “And let’s just say, from what little I witnessed, they looked very into each other.”

  “Damn,” Mike uttered. “I had to look at her all damn day last Thursday; can you believe a patient asked for her lips? Shit! Sexy as hell, even in them damn scrubs.”

  She sure is. Even more so out of them. I shot again. The ball circled the rim and went in.

  “She took my breath away the first time I looked at her. I was tempted to drop a pen or something, see if she'd bend and pick it up. Front or back, it didn't fucking matter,” Mike sighed, sounding like he's drooling.

  I turned, ready to knock his ass out. Rob gave me a 'back off ' look.

  “Stop talking about her like that, Mike,” Greg said, watching my reaction.

  “Greg? It's you, right,” Mike asks.

  “Nope,” Greg laughed. “Didn't even get a chance to try.”

  “Ira's gay, so he's out. It's really not you, Rob?”

  “Nope.”

  Feeling someone's gaze on me, I subtly nodded.

  “It's Frank,” Rob informed as I ran up and dunked. I grabbed the ball and ran back to them.

  “Marcus, you lucky fuck,” Bryan shouted, slapping my back.

  I shrugged a ‘whatever’ but inside, I wholeheartedly agreed.

  And I do to this day.

  “Are we playing or what,” I asked, shooting again.

  “Damn it, Marcus,” Mike called. “Why the hell are you at work? I wouldn’t be; I'd be at home fucking her pretty little head off.”

  I froze and glared at him. “Enough.”

  “Oh, shit,” Bryan muttered, stunned. “You serious about her, Marcus?”

  I clenched my jaw and shot again. I missed. I glared at Mike again.

  “She's mine,” I snapped. “And she’s not going anywhere, ever. Are we playing or not?”

  Bryan looked at me wide eyed. “Uh, yeah. Who's shirts, who's skins?”

  I took my shirt off. So does Rob and Greg. I nodded, glad Mike was on the other team. I needed to shut his fucking mouth.

  Asshole.

  I played too aggressively and thoughts of sex with Mariah crept into my head and I started anticipating being with her, later.

  I missed almost every fucking shot. Mike had put me off my game.

  Fucker.

  “Frank! What the fuck? Get your head in the game,” Rob yelled after I missed an easy lay-up.

  Breathing heavily, I walked toward the fence and gathered myself. She's mine. She's staying mine. Fuck Mike. He's not getting anywhere near her. And I had to cement to her that we’re ‘us,’ and no one else.

  I wiped off my sweat, turned and ran back. “Let's go,” I shouted, clapping.

  I checked the ball to Mike and he silently challenged me. I swatted at the ball and he faked left, dribbled right and was about to run to the other hoop when I swatted again and freed the ball. Greg picked it up and Mike guarded me, arms stretched out. Greg passed to Rob as Bryan tried to take the ball and I ran right and Rob shot the ball to me. I ran under the hoop and jumped, with Mike at my back trying to block, but I got it in the basket and ran to the other end.

  “That's what I'm talking about,” Rob yelled, clapping. “My boy is back! Do that again!”

  Mike seethed at Rob's comment and was on my ass as soon as I snatched the ball from Ira. I ran back to the other hoop and shot at the line. All net.

  I kept that up, scoring at every basket. At the end, I got the ball from Bryan, shot it to Rob, who dunked on Mike and dropped in front of him, laughing. That dunk made us win by one fucking point.

  “Good game, Marcus,” Mike said, walking toward me. “Fucked up comments I made earlier. Won't happen again.”

  I nodded and held out my hand. He shook it, then I grabbed my bag and hit the shower, anxious to get to the clinic and get the day over with so I could get back to my baby… and fuck her pretty little head off.

  How hard did I pray all day that she’d actually be naked in my bed when I got there?

  July 6, 2011

  I smile every time I think of how much of a hoopla Mariah caused with her gift. Joshua and Matthew showed up while I was at lunch in the hospital cafeteria. I was not surprised at seeing them nor at their timing. I snorted hard as they sat, thinking, ‘This should be fun.’ Even today, I love screwing with them; it’s way too easy.

  “Well, if it isn't my favorite brother,” Matthew gleefully said, slapping my shoulder.

  “Hey,” Joshua shouted. “Do you see me sitting here?”

  “Shut it, Twerp,” Matthew demanded. “Fancy meeting you here, Marcus.”

  I’m a doctor, with in-patients, eating lunch in the hospital’s cafeteria. Genius of them to figure out where to find me at noon.

  I shook my head. “No,” I mumbled, straight-faced.

  “You've got four tickets a game, Cramp. Count in Rob, we're set.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Marcus! It's the fucking Lakers, man,” Joshua whined.

  “No.”

  Rob slid a tray in front of me. “I get one, right, Frank?”

  “No,” I said, staring at the grilled chicken salad on the tray.

  “Who are you taking then, if the three of us can't go?”

  “Dad, Lisa’s boyfriend Nathan, and Russell,” I mumbled, picking up the fork.

  “Shit,” they yelled at the same time. It was getting harder to keep a straight face.

  “Look, Dad's a football fan and Russell is always out of town,” Matthew murmured. “Drop Twerp and the three of us can go with Nathan.”

  “What about you, Toad,” Joshua shouted, scowling at Matthew. “You probably won't be in town at any game time, either!”

  “But I definitely get a ticket, right,” Rob nudged me.

  “No,” I said with a mouth full of chicken.

  “Damn it, Frank! Come on!”

  “Face it, Sammy, I’ve never liked you,” I murmured, still managing to keep a straight face. “I could really use some iced tea. With lemon.”

  “Interns,” Rob yelled at a group medical students, then pointed at one alarmed female. “You! What's the cure for pre-eclampsia?”

  “What's pre-eclampsia,” the student asked, frowning.

  Rob glared when my brothers and I snickered.

  “Even I know what that is.”

  “You hear that? Mr. Cannon here, a CEO of a Fortune 500 company, knows what that is!”

  “So do I,” Matthew grinned.

  “You do not,” Joshua challenged.

  Matthew leaned and whispered to Rob, who shook his head as he turns back to the interns.

  “A private detective knows and you don't! No lunch for you. Go to the library, research it then write me a five-hundred-word essay on what it is and how to cure it, by end of shift. Go!”

  Th
e intern startled then ran out of the cafeteria.

  “Fuck! You see what I have to work with? I need that ticket, Frank.”

  I glared at Rob. “And I still don't have that iced tea.”

  “You! Get Dr. Alexander a large iced tea with lemon, little ice and you better do it right. You guys rotate to him next.”

  The interns look unfazed and the one delegated to get my tea muttered, “So?”

  “Who knows what an eidetic memory is,” Matthew asked the interns.

  They all raised their hands. Rob's hand slapped my back.

  “Did I forget to mention that Dr. Alexander has one,” Rob sneered.

  They all panicked and the tea-getter took off. One of the interns tried to hide her face. I crossed my arms and glared at her.

  “What's her name? The one attempting to hide her face.”

  “What's your name, you behind the tray,” Rob shouted.

  “Shit,” she mumbled then lowered the tray. “Leslie Evans.”

  “Leslie Evans,” I said slowly as I stared at her.

  “Ut-oh... he narrowed his eyes. Ms. Evans, you have been burned into this memory. Good luck on your rotation,” Rob chuckled as he shook his head.

  “I want a 2500-word essay from every one of you on the five most common childhood illnesses. If you can tell me what they are right now, I'll ease up on that. Write them down with your names and pass it to me.”

  “Cramp, you hated your attending. Why repeat the cycle,” Matthew asked me, frowning.

  “My attending was a slip of a woman who attempted to have me kicked from the program when I wouldn't fuck her. Apparently, this face was hard to look at vertically.”

  Joshua's jaw dropped. “Seriously? Was that here?”

  “Yep.”

  “I bet that was Dr. Gregson,” Rob said, quietly.

  “It was.”

  “Mike fucked her.”

  “Weiss?”

  “Yep.”

  I shuddered. “I'm not trying to fuck any of them. I'm only trying to teach them.”

  “Too bad,” a female intern muttered. Another giggled.

  Matthew snorted. “I’d be happy to fill—”

  “Shut it, Toad,” I snarled. “That’s not happening, either.”

  The intern brought my tea and passed me a sheet of paper.