She believed in honesty, but Marcy didn't want to hurt him. He would talk to her about it when he was ready.
Satisfied with what she had achieved so far, she put her things away, washed her hands, brushed her teeth and got into a nightie. She wrote a note to herself to download something really steamy to read on her Kindle.
Pleased with her progress, Marcy shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
41. Marcy
Marcy rose early Monday morning, grinning at the wonderful smell of Douglas Fir that permeated the entire house. Showering and dressing, she put the coffee on, and let Ziggy inside. He was overjoyed to see her, greeting her as if she were a long lost loved one that he hadn't seen for years instead of hours. Afraid that his delirious snuffing and huffing would wake the household, she pet and rubbed him until he settled down.
Mike walked in with a towel over his shoulder, wearing swim trunks and an irrepressible, breath-stopping grin. His devoured her with his gaze making her lightheaded and giddy. The way his eyes drank her in made her feel as if she made his life worthwhile. He had said as much many times.
She was glad that they had moved in with him.
He kissed her good morning, a slight touch to the cheek, and went for his morning laps. If it hadn’t obviously been his daily routine of years, Marcy would have considered that he was intentionally teasing her.
The man was built. Broad swimmer's shoulders, flat stomach, tight ass. Wow. The hair he had lost on his head seemed to have gravitated to his chest. The latest Superman actor had hair on his chest. Wolverine had hair on his chest. But Mike's broad buff chest was covered like a thick black rug.
Marcy wanted to run her fingers through it.
By the time Katie was up, Marcy had bacon and eggs ready and Mike had showered and dressed. Katie was going back to school today, but Marcy had the day off. Mike seemed to work any schedule he wanted.
Marcy considered that with all the changes in her life, she would be suffering some sort of mental and emotional whiplash. This wasn't the case at all. Somehow Katie and Marcy fit into Mike's home and life seamlessly.
Mike was a touchy sort of guy, naturally giving Katie a shoulder squeeze and peck on the cheek goodbye when they dropped her at school. The man acted more like a father to Katie than her real father ever had.
After dropping Katie at school, they took Ziggy for a walk at Sunset Park. This time Mike tossed the Frisbee and Ziggy played fetch while they strolled around the park, holding hands and chatting. It felt good to walk together while companionably holding hands. Natural, yet also special.
"So how many women have you slept with?" she asked.
Mike arched an eyebrow and squeezed her hand. There was mischief and delight in his eyes. "Oh good. Personal stuff. I get to ask you the same question now." He frowned as if he were thinking, or perhaps counting.
"What, is it that many?"
"No. Five."
"Seriously? So low?"
"Other than a couple of times when I tried it, I just don’t do casual sex. I prefer to masturbate rather than have sex with a stranger. I just don't see the point without knowing and liking the person. My friends all think I'm a big girl."
She chuckled. "Well, you said that you're like my best girlfriend, remember?"
His slow smile had a naughty curl in it. "Not for long, I hope. Which reminds me, I've had my doctor take blood tests to check for any STDs. I'll get the results back next week. You told me before that you were tested after Trent left?"
"Yep."
"And you haven’t had sex since?"
"Nope."
"Good," he said with a playful grin. It was such a turn-on, this mischievous side of him. Mike was lighthearted and happy, and that made Marcy happy. "Next week I'll get my results back," he said, still flirting. "Then you'll know that it's perfectly safe to have sex with me." He cocked his head and gave her a naughty look.
"I can't tell you how relieved I am," Marcy said with a dry, mocking smirk. "Don't think that a change of subject will get you out of a discussion about your ex-girlfriends. I still want details."
He laughed and told her about his first time. He had imagined that he was in love, but for his older partner, it was the fun of seducing a virgin. He had been twenty, and she had broken his heart.
Mike had his first one night stand not long after that, mainly because of his friends who took him out intending to get him laid. They couldn’t stand his pathetic dejection from being rejected. Sexual gratification with a stranger had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Making love was something to share with someone important. Paying for it was not just wrong. It seemed like sacrilege. That had put him off sex for a few years.
Next came a woman he had a long term relationship with while in the army in Germany. They had gotten on well, and cared for each other, but culture and upbringing created too many difficulties.
He explained how he had met Barbara when he came back to Las Vegas. It was a whirlwind romance and marriage. He had known that she was the one for him. After she died, André convinced him to have sex with one of the submissive women around during one of André's many parties.
"How did that work out?"
He shook his head. "Not that well. Don't get me wrong. The sex was good. It was just that I didn’t know her. Again, it was a physical act of indulgence - a body thing. Sex to me is about heart and soul. Sex means something. When I have sex, I make love." He paused and looked intently into her eyes. "I want to make love to you."
With a straight face, Marcy raised a knowing eyebrow at him, a smile of approval tugging at her lips. She was getting used to the idea.
"So what about you?" he asked. "How many lovers have you had?"
Frowning, Marcy shrugged. "With my strict upbringing I'm kind of a poster child for a life lesson, a cautionary tale," she said. "I had classic rebellion. My dad was a good father, but he was not much of a communicator. He yelled a lot. He was a 'My way or the highway' kind of guy."
"Oh yeah?" He stared at her, well aware that she hadn’t answered the question. That she seemed to be talking about something else.
Marcy smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'm getting to the 'how many' answer. The thing is that I don’t honestly know how many lovers I've had."
Her reply shocked him.
Mike's face remained bland, but his eyes flashed first in confusion, then in surprise. She could imagine the wheels in his brain turning while he tried to work it out. It made her giggle, and her amusement surprised him, too.
Ziggy returned at a gallop, placing the Frisbee at her feet. Marcy took the Frisbee and threw it as far as she could. Ziggy bolted off to get it.
It wasn't actually funny, but his reaction kind of was.
Marcy huffed out a breath. "When I turned sixteen I told my parents I was staying at a girlfriend's house, and she told her parents that she was staying at mine," she said. "Typical, you know?"
Mike nodded.
"We went out to a college kegger and I drank for the first time. Boy did I drink! I felt so grown up. Happy and uninhibited. After that I honestly don’t remember what happened. When I woke up in the morning I had lost my virginity."
"That's terrible! Do you know who?"
"Nope." She shrugged. "It could have been more than one boy, you see? How would I know? I'm just glad there are no naked pictures of me on the internet."
Mike shook his head. "What happened to your girlfriend?"
"Oh, she lost her virginity, too. But she at least had a boyfriend and remembered it. She had tried drinking previously, so had a better idea of the consequences."
"I'm so sorry," Mike said, dark concern showing in his eyes. "What an awful experience. That was a cruel lesson for a young woman to learn."
"You got that right. I've decided that I'm going to get Katie drunk when she turns thirteen."
"What?"
"The thing is that I had no experience with alcohol. I had no idea about how it lowers inhibitions. If I get Katie drunk a couple of tim
es she can pay attention and know what she is up for when she drinks. Anyway, that's what I decided. What if I had experimented with alcohol under the supervision of my parents? I would have known what alcohol can do. If I had, what happened to me never would have happened."
"Makes sense."
"Oh yeah," she said. "Anyway, that put me off sex for awhile. I felt pretty guilty. I worried about infections and pregnancy. I prayed and tried to find forgiveness. I went all the way. I can’t even tell you how contrite I was. You know - the usual. Attending church twice a week. Sackcloth. Ashes." She gave him a cheeky grin, showing him that she had gotten over it.
"That helped?" he asked.
"Sure. That and time passing until I had other problems to worry about. Anyway, I eventually got over that and had my first real sex after dating like a normal girl. It was a 'Slam, bam, thank you, ma'am,' event."
Mike nodded. With a little chuckle he added, "Sounds like what happens with a normal to me."
She laughed. "I decided it was all a sign. I should wait for marriage to have sex. Then I fell in love with my ex. We didn’t have sex until we were married, can you believe that? I think that was part of his plan. I admired that he was willing to wait."
Marcy could see that Mike was following, fascinated in her story. He shook his head, apparently knowing what came next.
"Trent wanted me to work full time to support him while he was at school. He needed my mother's home to live in. Mom and I were his free ride. Besides, he was always getting plenty of sex from various women – I never knew until later."
"Unfaithful bastard."
"Oh yeah. That's Trent," Marcy agreed. "Even though I had a huge crush on him, and wanted to make him happy in bed – somehow I just didn’t get much out of love making. I was so utterly awkward and self-conscious by then. Trent made every one of my insecurities become even greater. He had me so introverted, looking at my flaws and failures, real or imagined, that I never noticed what he was up to."
"I know the type. The classic 'blame others' bully. Those kinds of people can be a real mind-fuck."
She snorted. "Tell me about it. Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that I've had sex and guilt mixed together."
"Good for you," he said. "And, er… are you getting over that?"
Marcy looked at him with a steady gaze. He didn’t blink, and his brown eyes were warm and sympathetic. Impulsively, she took his hand and kissed it. "Yes, I am, thank you."
Mike pulled her into his arms. She folded into him, laying her head on his chest. His hands roamed over her back, and she patted his. When she broke away from him, his lips curled up in a crooked smile.
"I appreciate how patient you've been," she said.
He laughed. "I haven’t been patient at all."
"Yes, you have. I do love you, you know."
Mike gave her a chaste kiss on her forehead, yet the hungry look in his eyes was anything but innocent. "I know," he said, a smug happy smile tugging at his lips.
"That was the first time I told you that!"
Marcy squealed with surprise as Mike swung her up off the ground. She was no lightweight, but Mike had picked her up and held her in his arms easily, without one sign of strain. Grinning, she put her arms around his neck. Holding her like a bride crossing the threshold in her husband's arms, he joyously spun her in a couple of circles.
Delighted, Marcy laughed.
"Marcy, my own true love, you tell me you love me a hundred times a day – in actions, not in words. The way your eyes follow me around a room, the way your pulse kicks up and those sexy blushes and heartfelt smiles the moment you see me." A boyish grin swept over his face. "But I sure appreciate the words, honey."
And there, in Sunset Park, while holding her in his arms, Mike kissed her.
42. Tension
Friday night. They had been living at Mike's house for six days. Christmas was coming. The smell of fir tree permeated the house. Their beautiful Christmas tree stood in the family room fully decorated with its lights winking. It would be Christmas soon, but everyday was like Christmas when living with Mike.
Just like a real family, all three watched T.V., played badminton in the backyard, went swimming or played silly board games together. Mike often helped Katie with her homework.
Now it was time for bed.
Marcy checked in Katie's room. She was sound asleep.
At night when they went to separate beds, Mike held back. Even though his eyes were intense, and his desire for her obvious, his hands never strayed. He gave her only goodnight kisses.
It was the constant attention that Marcy found incredibly unsettling. Her nerves were frazzled. Mike never strayed over a line, yet every time they were together he was always touching her in some way, placing a casual hand on her hip or lower back to guide her somewhere. Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, or just running his hand down her arm.
Marcy was hyper aware of him. It was as if his body just somehow gravitated toward hers, and her body toward his. Every time they touched it was like a sexy electric current, arcing along her flesh.
What a long week it had been. She had practiced masturbating every night. Last night her sexual energy rose until the pleasant feelings built up into a painful tension. A tiny wave came over her then, a small relief. Was it an orgasm? If so it was nothing like she had read about. Marcy figured that she was close. Very close.
André had told her: "A woman must know and learn her own body."
Yeah, yeah, tell me about it!
Sexual tension was an invisible force between them, when Mike walked Marcy to her bedroom door to kiss her good night. This had been a daily ritual ever since she moved in.
Like a couple of teenagers making out, their nightly kisses were becoming more and more passionate. They had never made it past first base, but for the love of God! At times Mike's mouth burned upon her lips, and felt like a home run.
Not that long ago Marcy avoided being touched by a man. Now all her will was bent toward it. What would it feel like to be naked with Mike? To have his hands stroke her or his lips kiss her all over? That image made her body tingle and flush pink with desire.
Skin flushing. A sure sign of arousal.
The raw sexuality of living with the man kept Marcy with a constantly dry throat, a fluttering stomach and an internal fire that couldn’t be quenched. Not to mention the ongoing moisture problem between her legs. She had taken to wearing panty liners.
"How are you going with your ah… homework?" he asked in a husky voice.
Marcy snorted. He was referring, of course, to her attempts to make herself climax. "You are a bad man, Mike. I thought you said no pressure."
"Oh, no pressure," he said with a happy smirk, leaning his shoulder against her doorframe with his arms crossed in front of him. "I was just asking. I happen to be very good, in fact professionally trained on the subject. I was going to simply offer my services."
Marcy laughed. "It's the principle of the thing. I want to succeed. I..um, am working every day very hard at it," she said, and laughed at his tormented expression. His mind had obviously pictured her diligently attempting to make herself climax, just down the hall from where he slept.
His eyes darkened. "I don't mind a bit of delayed gratification, but for the love of God! You are driving me crazy woman."
"Sorry," she said. "But I think I'm getting close to figuring it out. And I can’t believe that I'm talking about this with you! André has been nagging me, too. I have to say, the subject is getting easier to discuss. I'm embarrassed and inhibited – damned if I know why, but I'll overcome it. And when I do, you'll be the first to know."
Mike's eyes glittered. "Will I?" he asked in a low seductive voice. He gave her a slow, sexy smile, and pulled her toward him. Heat and passion rolled off the man in waves. Just the scent of him made her dizzy.
Wide eyed, Marcy's pulse quickened as she focused on his mouth. Mike had captured her once more. Yet every night she walked willingly into this same trap.
She made no protest as Mike's fingertips slid up to frame her face with his big, warm hands.
It began as he tilted her head and nuzzled into her, burying his face against her. Mike murmured words of adoration into her skin. His warm lips and breath teased her flesh, sending bolts of sensation right to her core. His lips skimmed the dips and hollows of her neck and throat. Then he ran his tongue along the shell of her ear, sucking and nipping her ear lobe.
When her body responded with a wave of goosebumps, she whimpered.
"I can smell you, Marcy."
The thought mortified her. "You're joking!"
"I can," he said gruffly with one big hand possessively holding her nape. "You're wet for me, slick and ready. God, I want to taste you so badly."
His raunchy talk shocked her, alarmed her and heated her right to the core. Marcy moaned, and melted into him. Mike's teeth scraped along her jaw until they met in a gentle touch, mouth to mouth. Marcy's nipples tingled, and tightened into hard peaks as she pressed against his solid male chest.
Breasts swelling. Nipples tightening. Lubrication. Evidence of arousal, she automatically noted in the back of her mind.
Pliant in his arms, Mike walked her backward, pushing her up against a wall. His swollen male flesh pressed against her hip and stomach, his thigh burned against her sex. Hot blood pounded between her legs. It was beginning to throb right there.
She heard herself make a soft sound of pleasure. Mike deepened the kiss, moving them both from affection to yearning. From yearning to breathless need.
Marcy melted against him, and her arms wrapped around him. His tongue moved inside her, deep with promise. She tasted beer and man. He licked; he sucked, and bit her mouth, and her lips.
When Marcy's tongue found his, she moaned with the pure rapture of it. The heat of his body sought hers, surrounded her, and seduced her. His male scent and the taste of him filled her senses, with dark, drugging desire.
Lip are the primary erogenous zone of a woman, she recalled. Oh yeah, you think?