Marcy took a deep breath. "André said to me that some people hide, conceal and pretend. No one really knows them because they let no one in."
Mike smiled, leaned forward and took her hand. He held it gently. Reverently. The heat of his touch spread, his energy sending thrilling warmth throughout her body. His touch was strangely comforting, yet also arousing. What was that about? Marcy wondered. How could it be both?
"I know you, Marcy," he said, squeezing her fingers.
"Yes, but you don't really, do you?"
Mike cocked a brow, and grinned. "I've seen you with Ziggy, and I trust his judgment. He loves you." She smiled at that. "Besides, you like him, too. A woman that loves animals has lots going for her."
"That doesn't mean much. Ziggy, I suspect, pretty much adores everyone he meets."
Mike shrugged. "I've seen you with Katie. You're a wonderful, loving mom. That kid didn't luck out in the dad department, but man, you've more than made up for that."
"Oh do you think so? I do worry about that, about her non-relationship with her father."
"Don't worry," Mike said. "You know what I've noticed about children? If they have one loving, sane parent – then they turn out okay. They only need one. Katie is a fantastic kid. She is so appreciative and mature for her age. She's had a hard time – losing her grandma. That must have been difficult."
"Oh, yes. My mom looked after Katie a lot when I worked full time. Then I nursed mom for months while she was dying. I hated that Katie had to go through that. It was a tough time for both of us."
"It sounds like it. The divorce, a death and moving out of her childhood home. Even you’re your cat died recently. That kid has been through a lot. Plus, she must know her dad is an ass."
"Yes." Marcy pressed her lips together. Her stomach knotted when she considered the ongoing issues Katie had with her father. She took her hand back from him, clasping her fingers together on her lap.
"I dunno," Mike said evenly. "Katie has an unusual depth of character for her age, probably because of the stuff that has happened in her short life. Raised by a hard working, honest single mom hasn't been bad for her either, in my opinion. I guess all I'm saying is that your daughter is a terrific kid. Some of that is certainly on her, but I think she is a happy, grateful child because she has an amazing, fantastic mom."
"Thank you," Marcy said, once again seriously affected by his words of praise.
Mike patted her knee and gave her a hot-stopping grin. "It's just the honest truth."
32. Love
Martin, the pool guy paused at the back gate. Marcy couldn’t help but notice how young and earnest he seemed. A nice boy, doing good honest work. He would go far.
"I'll be back in four days, will you be here?" he asked.
"Probably," Mike said. "Why?"
"Oh, I just wanted to talk to you about some things. No urgency."
"You have my number," Mike said. "Call when you're coming and I'll be sure to be here for you. Wait a minute, come over here and meet Marcy Paget."
Martin strode over in a brisk youthful stride.
"Martin Quinn, Marcy Paget. Marcy, Martin." Martin shook her hand. "Nice to meet you," he said.
"You'll be seeing Marcy around here a lot, I hope," Mike said. "Come and meet these two girls." The two girls in question, aware that they were being introduced, stopped playing and came over to the pool fence.
"This is Marcy's daughter, Katie, and her friend Samantha." When Martin was introduced to Katie, his eyes widened with a little shock of surprise. Marcy wondered why. Did he think he had seen her before?
Before she could ask, Martin said that he had another pool to do and excused himself. "Thanks, Mr. Thompson, nice to meet you, Ms. Paget, Katie and Sam." He waved a goodbye and left.
"He's a really a nice young man," Mike said. They both wandered back to the lounges and sat down across from each other. Ziggy trotted over too, circled a couple times, and then lay down at Mike's feet with a happy huff.
"Marcy, you know that I love you, right?" Mike said out of the blue.
"How can you know that?"
"I just do," he said. "Love isn't like rocket science or brain surgery. I don't think it's as complicated as everyone seems to think it is. There aren't a lot of equations or formulas to get wrong or right. I trust my heart, honey. It hasn't been wrong so far."
"Love!" Marcy snorted. "I thought Trent was the most wonderful man in the world. He was handsome, charming, yet utterly selfish and manipulative. It took years before the blinders left my eyes on that one. He was using me. I know that now."
She shifted restlessly on the pool lounge. "Hindsight is 20/20 they say. Trent kept me around because he needed me to support him through orthodontic school. The second he graduated he took off like a scalded cat. The moment our six week divorce came though he married a younger, stunning trophy wife. I feel sorry for the poor thing. I wonder what else he's getting from her, besides the obvious?"
"I don’t care about your ex," Mike growled. "Stupid jerk never knew how lucky he was." Mike leaned over and stroked his dog, sound asleep at his feet. The happy creature took a deep breath in pleasure, but his eyes stayed shut.
"It's just that I don’t know what love is," Marcy said. "Is it an insane chemical reaction? Some pheromone that one physical body recognizes in another? Love really is blind. Why do you think you love me?"
Mike smiled, sat up and met her gaze. "I know I love you, and there are so many reasons that I do. You make me laugh and you've got a big generous heart. I admit that I was love struck the moment I saw you. I don’t know why. But my certainty has only grown every day since."
The look in his dark eyes was sincere and intense. "Marcy," he said. "Love for me was the moment I realized that if you were happy, I would be happy. Somehow all my joy and happiness is tied to you and Katie."
These words dazed her. What? How can that be?
"I want you both to move in with me," Mike said, leaning eagerly toward her. "I have a huge house and I don’t want to see you guys living in that crappy condo. Marcy, you're the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing I think of at night. I want to marry you."
The blood drained from her face.
Marcy knew that she must look shocked, because Mike reached for her instantly. The concern in his expression was obvious. Disturbed, sensing something, Ziggy stood up and wagged his tail, looking back and forth between them.
Mike moved over to sit on the recliner with her, and put his arm around her. "Sorry," he said, patting her back. "I guess I freaked you out bringing up the whole marriage thing. It's too soon, I guess. I honestly didn’t mean to. It wasn't a very romantic effort either was it?" He gave a low chuckle. "It just kind of slipped out."
Still stunned, Marcy just stared at him.
Everything about Mike was so familiar to her now. The dark eyes and firm lips that curled with humor, mischief or enthusiasm. The way he loved Katie, and naturally included her daughter in everything they did. Katie lacked self-esteem after being abandoned by her father. Could any man help heal her, and get Katie's confidence back better than Mike?
Marcy recalled the way Mike made her laugh, and how he walked backwards or gestured with his hands when he got excited. She inhaled suddenly, recalling the heady male taste, scent and feel of him when he had given her that amazing kiss.
Mike was incredibly handsome with his broad shoulders, flat stomach and narrow hips. He swam laps ever day - the man was all toned muscle. Yet it wasn't his body that drew her, or that handsome face. Right now Mike was her very best friend. And while Marcy had toyed with the possibility of jumping into sex, she hadn't once considered marriage.
She remembered the first time they had gone to Sunset Park, when they had talked about finding out that their loved ones had cancer. "That one black moment your entire world falls away," Mike had said, and she knew that he understood.
Marcy had been so glad to share that terrible experience with someone who had lived
through it.
She recalled that other intimate occasion where he had said, "I know exactly what you're talking about. The good dreams hurt most of all." They had both suffered a recent loss of important loved ones. Was that why she liked him? Because of shared pain? If so it was an odd thing to build a relationship on.
Yet it wasn't only that. Mike Thompson "got" her, he honestly did. Right from the start Marcy had felt way too comfortable with him, which never happened with anyone – except perhaps André – who was so outrageous and unique that he almost didn't count. Mike just somehow slipped past all her barriers. Or she let her defenses down with him around.
He wanted to marry her.
Marcy still couldn't believe it. She remembered that kiss. How it had warmed her entire body, right down to her toes, and turned her brain into mush. If someone had asked her - she wasn't sure that she would have been able to remember her own name at the time.
Marcy wanted another kiss from him, just like that one.
Mike checked his watch, and then shouted out, "Time to get out, girls. I need to get inside and make dinner. Katie, you can show Sam Mario Cart on the Wii if you like."
The girls screeched a happy assent and got out of the pool. Grabbing their towels, they took off inside the house.
"Are you okay?" he asked in a seductive low tone that raised goosebumps on her arms. Marcy had never really noticed how sexy his voice was.
Mike ran his hand down her back, and rested it on the curve of her hip. He hadn't touched her naked skin, but her body heated just as if he had. His palm was big and warm against her.
She froze, uncertain if she wanted to move further into him, or to pull away. Mike was an open, talkative, touchy-feely person while she was the exact opposite. Whatever did he see in her?
The back yard was quiet now, with the girls inside.
Mike stood up, captured both of her hands in his, and pulled her to her feet. Their bodies were so close. Marcy didn’t try to avoid him, or escape this intimacy. The heat from his fingers seeped into her palms. She smelled Primrose and chlorine mixed with Mike's unique male scent.
Looking up at him, Marcy noticed that Mike's dark eyes were close, focused and intent. She knew that he intended to kiss her again. She was dazed and faint with the thought of it. The thud of her pulse hammered in her throat.
Mike pressed his lips against her knuckles, and then put her hands up on top of his shoulders. They curled instinctively around his neck, stroking through his silky short hair.
His arms wrapped around her body, pulling her hard against him. This kiss was less tentative, more certain and determined. This was a kiss from a man who knew what he wanted, and fully intended to get it.
His mouth slid over hers, his lips soft and inviting.
She gasped as Mike took her open mouthed, her body close against his. When his tongue teased inside her, he made a low animal sound that resonated throughout her body. When her tongue found his, she moaned with the intense pleasure of it.
So many sensations! Marcy was hyper-aware of all of them. The heat of his firm body encompassed her, his short beard tickling her skin, the erotic scent of him, and the taste of wine on his lips. The pound of her heart, her short breaths, tender breasts and moist arousal.
Everything resembling rational or coherent thought simply disappeared.
He eased back and smiled at her. "Oh yeah," he said softly. "I'm sure that I'm in love. Trust me. I know what love is." He gave her a quick kiss on the nose. "And I definitely love you."
He took her hand firmly in his own, and with docile obedience she followed him inside. It took a few minutes before she remembered.
Shit, she thought. I still haven't told him my secret.
33. Confessions
Even though she could clearly hear them, Marcy went in to check on the girls. They were in the entertainment room laughing and giggling over Mario Brothers. When she returned to the kitchen, Mike handed her another glass of wine. He had already made spaghetti sauce earlier in the day and was heating it up, and boiling the noodles.
"We don’t know that much about each other yet," Marcy said, drinking half the glass.
"Ask me anything."
She thought about it. "Okay. Tell me why you and Barbara went to André."
"Oh, that's an easy one," he said, getting out the dinner plates, bread plates and cutlery.
Mike explained that he became aware that Barbara wasn't really enjoying making love – not like he did. The change had begun subtly. She had been avoiding sex, having a headache or being too tired. She lacked the passion they had when they first married.
Marcy took the bread plates from the counter, helping him set the table.
Mike said he decided to read a couple of sex and relationship books and try some things, but somehow he knew that she had lost interest. That is when a friend told him about André. André helped Barbara confess what she had been craving. He then taught Mike how to please her.
"The thing was that Barbara hadn't been honest with me because of all the usual reasons." He shrugged and began grating parmesan cheese into a bowl. "You know, embarrassment, guilt, shame. She had been faking orgasms pretty often, too. As a typical man, I was unobservant. I had no idea. I don’t think she was an out and out submissive. I just think she just lost interest. She wanted to try other things and couldn't talk to me about it."
"Like what?" she asked, while putting a napkin at each setting.
"She wanted to try blindfolds, bondage, spankings and anal sex. The anal sex was something I'd never considered, but it was fun because she wanted it. Honestly? I think we were fine when we were first married, but then Barbara just got bored or something in bed. Before André I tended to be pretty vanilla."
"Vanilla?"
"You know. Plain sex, no kink."
He gave Marcy an evil grin, and picked up his big wooden spoon, suggestively waggling his eyebrows. "Don't get me wrong," he said, stirring the sauce. "I seriously get off on kink. It's just that I've never once gotten bored with vanilla."
He took a taste of the sauce, nodded and offered it to Marcy. She tried it and was impressed. Homemade spaghetti sauce. Good Lord, just how much garlic was in that? Yum.
"It's good," she said.
A slow satisfied smile curled his lips as he continuing to stir. "Thanks," he said. "I like to cook. Anyway, André gave me the 'difference between sex and love' talk, because for me they go together."
His easy laugh made his eyes brighten with mischief. "For me, having sex is making love. On the other hand, I learned how to Dominate and have sex as play. I learned the 'Master' 'Slave' game, and would you believe it? It turns out that Domination came easily to me." He arched an eyebrow. "I was naturally good at it."
Marcy snickered. "Nagging bossy creature. Why am I not surprised?"
Grinning, he ignored her insult. "I'm much more aware of what is going on with a woman in bed now. André is amazing, but you've figured that out I know."
"Oh yeah."
"Do you find him sexually attractive?"
Curious, Marcy stared into his unblinking brown eyes. "Why? Are you jealous?"
"Maybe."
She leaned against the kitchen counter. "Yes, he is sexually attractive," she paused and then added, "but not anywhere near as attractive to me as you are."
The smug happy grin Mike shot her had been well worth it. Marcy found herself grinning, too. "Don't let it go to your head," she advised him.
Marcy began to explain what she realized - that she longed for intimacy, for that relief that came from being able to be totally oneself with another. It was being comfortable enough with someone to let them know exactly who you are.
"So, my confession is this….I always fake orgasm."
"Really?" He stopped stirring.
"That’s my big secret, and my big failure. I have a habit of avoiding or even lying in order to be 'safe.' Normal girls enjoy sex, so why don’t I? Also, when it comes to sex I just feel stupid. I'd been con
sidering going to bed with you and imagined faking orgasm. I didn’t want to do that anymore… not with you. I realized that I wanted to be completely honest with you, Mike. But what if we go to bed together and I can't climax? I didn’t want to put that pressure on you either, that need to make me orgasm. Maybe I'm just not built that way."
"Did you ever tell anyone about this problem of yours?"
"Today I told André."
"Good for you! And now you've told me." Mike bent over to place a tray of garlic bread into the oven. He stood up straight, and put the timer on for fifteen minutes. Then he came over and stood beside her while she sat on a stool at the kitchen counter.
"So what did André say?"
Marcy could feel a blush of embarrassment steal up her neck and face. "He gave me some stuff so that I can figure it out. His exact words were: "You should have the satisfaction of solving this puzzle."
"Oh, he thinks that you can figure it out?"
"That's about it," she said with a half-shrug. Marcy marveled at how easy it was to talk to Mike about this now that she had begun. Why was that? "He also told me and I quote: "If a woman cannot make herself reach a climax, then why should she expect a man to be able to do so?"
"Ouch."
"It's just the honest truth. André doesn't pull any punches. You gotta respect him for that."
"So…er," Mike cleared his throat. "You're going to be getting in a lot of practice until perfect?"
"Yes." Marcy laughed and hit him playfully on the shoulder. It was like punching a wall. The man was solid muscle.
Mike grinned. "That's really great. Thanks for telling me, Marcy. I'm blown away by your trust in me. Tell me you'll marry me. Let's do a famous Vegas drive-through wedding. We can get Elvis to perform the ceremony."
She stared at him, lost for words.
When she didn’t reply, he continued talking, "Or if you want we can have a huge bang-up wedding – go all the way, no expense spared."