One Final Step

by Stephanie Doyle

  “No,” he said. He didn’t want her to see him in this state. His body in a death match with his memories. “Madeleine, I brought a pill with me.”

  “What?”

  She was still in the middle of a sexual haze, twisting her body on the sheets in an instinctive gesture to her lover that she was ready to be filled by him.

  So beautiful.

  “A pill. In my wallet. Let me get it. I want to be inside you. I want to take you…hard. I can do that with the pill. I can satisfy you that way.”

  The haze seemed to clear from her eyes and she stilled on the bed. Blinking, she pulled her hands out of his grasp and focused on him still kneeling above her. “No. I don’t want that.”

  “Why not?” he snapped. “What difference does it make? We can make love. I can make you come so many times…”

  “But you can’t. So it’s not real. I don’t want that.”

  He gritted his teeth in frustration. “Fine. If you won’t let me come inside you that way, we’ll do it another way.”

  Moving down her body, he put his mouth on her bare stomach. Her skin was so soft, so incredibly luscious. What would she be like between her slick folds? It would blow his mind and he would get his tongue and his fingers so deep inside her that when she came he would feel it throughout his body, as well.

  His tongue slipped into her belly button, then he dipped his head farther. In the dim moonlight shining in between the hotel-room curtains, he could see the glistening slickness of her arousal on the soft dark curls between her thighs.

  “No.”

  She wiggled and the motion made him crazy because it put her sex farther away from his mouth. She was going to make him work for it.

  He dipped his head again.

  “No. I said no.” She pushed against his shoulder.

  Lifting his head, Michael saw her expression and knew suddenly she wasn’t feeling it anymore. “I want to go down on you.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” she said, clearly annoyed with him for thinking her that naive.

  “Don’t you…like it?” He didn’t think it was possible for a woman not to like it. Like it wasn’t possible for a man to not like getting his dick sucked. Some things were a given.

  “It’s not that. I don’t feel comfortable with this being so one-sided. I mean, I’ll be…I’ll be into it…but you’ll just be watching.”

  Michael rose up to face her. “I’ll be doing a hell of a lot more than just watching. I’m okay with this, Madeleine. I want to make you come. Giving you pleasure pleasures me. And as a man I can’t believe I actually said those words, but in this case, in your case, it’s the truth.”

  She scooted back on the bed, leaning on the headboard as she curled her knees into her chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I’m not okay with it.”

  He stared at her a minute, dumbfounded, until a wave of sharp and nasty anger rose up inside him. “What the…?”

  She flinched, sensing he was about to swear, and so he said the word he wanted even louder. Glad to make her flinch. He was that kind of angry.

  “You won’t let me use a pill. Which would work perfectly fine. And you won’t let me go down on you. Why? You have a thing against orgasms.”

  “I don’t have a thing against orgasms. I thought we were going to…”

  “What? What did you think we were going to do? We start kissing and things get hot between us. Inferno hot. I can’t follow through, I get that, but it doesn’t mean we can’t do other things or use the freakin’ pill and—”

  “And pretend! That’s what you were going to say and I don’t want to pretend anything with you. It would be dishonest and it’s not what we have together.”

  He could practically see her mind spinning as she worked to find words that would explain what had no explanation. She thought she could talk her way out of this. She probably thought she could talk her way out of anything. Only she must not have been able to think of something remotely reasonable because all she did was squeeze her knees tighter to her chest.

  “You know what I think? I think you are more messed up about intimacy than either of us realized. You don’t like sex.”

  “That’s not true! You know how untrue it is. You felt how…that I was…excited.”

  “Yeah, because your body can’t help the physical reaction. But in that little head of yours you’re thinking all the time and I think you don’t want this because you don’t like being the one out of control.”

  That had her head snapping toward him. He’d struck a nerve, and instead of backing off he did what any good fighter from the other side of the tracks did, he pressed his advantage and fought even dirtier.

  “You don’t know what sex is when it’s not a commodity, do you? People used you, you used people. Was it ever fun for you? Did you ever want to screw for the sake of it?”

  “Stop it.”

  She was shaking now. He could see her body practically trembling and it didn’t make him feel good to know he’d done that to her. Fighting dirty was great, but not when it meant hurting someone he…

  He what?

  Don’t think. Don’t even let the word form in your head. At the end of the day this can go nowhere. Tonight proved that, if nothing else.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he searched the floor for her clothes. He tossed her the shirt and shorts and felt another little jab when she quickly wiggled back into them.

  “I’m leaving.” He walked over to the chair where he’d draped his slacks and the cashmere sweater he’d worn.

  “So that’s it. I won’t put out and you’re leaving. Real mature.”

  Stepping into his pants, he fastened them and set his buckle in place. “That’s not what this is about and you know it.”

  “No, tell me.” Dressed now, she was more confident. She slid off the bed and stood in front of him. “I didn’t feel comfortable with what you wanted to do. That’s all it was.”

  No, it was more than that. She didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of him. Didn’t want to be exposed in a way he wouldn’t be. Because deep down, they wouldn’t be feeling the same things. He should have been more understanding, maybe. This couldn’t be any easier for her than it was for him.

  Yet, she had to acknowledge, he’d been exposed and vulnerable in front of her every time he’d been with her since she’d learned the truth about his past.

  He was giving her everything. She wasn’t giving it back in return.

  “Madeleine.” He reached up and cupped her face. Her pretty eyes were brimming with so much fear. “I don’t know who you are trying to kid, me or yourself. You need to think about this. Is it me you really want to be with? Or is it a hell of a lot easier having a relationship with a guy who can’t get it up? No way to be out of control in that scenario, now is there?”

  His hand dropped and he turned away from her to put on his sweater. Finding his shoes, he stepped into them.

  “You shouldn’t drive.”

  “I won’t. I’ll grab a cab.”

  Nodding, she wrapped her arms around her middle, protecting herself as much as she could. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to protect herself from him. That with him she was safe. But he was coming to learn that Madeleine had never trusted anyone. Not really. It made him inexplicably sad.

  Her bottom lip trembled a bit before she lifted her chin. “So is this it?”

  It. The end.

  It probably should be. Michael couldn’t see how this was ever going to get any better between them. Not when she was in this much denial and he was…still broken. But he couldn’t make himself say the words. The idea of never seeing her again simply wasn’t an option.

  Still, she had a choice in this, too. “Do you want it to be?”

  “No,” she answered instantly.

  Despite everything that had happened, her quick response made him feel good. “Then no, this isn’t it. But you’re going to have to think about why you won’t let yoursel
f be naked with me.”

  “I was naked!” she answered shrilly.

  “That wasn’t naked. You forgot to take your armor off.”

  With that he snatched up his watch and left the room trying real hard to forget the look of horror he saw on her face.

  Yeah…he was a dirty fighter.

  * * *

  MADELEINE WANTED TO hurl something at his back. A lamp or a vase or something that would make him hurt the way he’d hurt her.

  Armor? How dare he? How could he? She’d never been so vulnerable before.

  Hell, she’d never been completely naked with any man ever before.

  Falling back on the bed, she groaned as the deep insidious voice inside her head worked its way up and out of her mouth. Never having let herself be fully naked with a man probably wasn’t a good defense against his argument.

  “He’s right. Oh, God.” Covering her face with her hands, this time she wanted to hurl something at herself.

  Idiot! Fool! Stupid!

  He was completely right. She was so messed up in the head about sex and she was sick of it. How many years had she been blaming the scandal? Not that it could be trivialized. What woman wouldn’t be traumatized by being caught in the act by a scorned wife who’d labeled her the country’s First Whore?

  But she knew it went deeper than that. A memory she’d long suppressed came crashing down on her. She could practically hear his snide voice in her head even after all these years.

  That’s right. I got into Madeleine Kane’s pants. Not so high and mighty now, is she? I’ve checked her off the list. Now, who’s next?

  He’d been a boy. Kevin. Her first boy. She’d met him in debate class at Yale and fallen so hard and fast she didn’t think she would ever recover. She’d laughed with him, been enthralled by him, and despite how humiliating it was to admit now, she’d even pretended he was smarter than her.

  Of course she’d given him her virginity. Lights out, bra still on, with as much courage as she could summon. It hadn’t been easy. She’d been raised to be a good girl.

  To her very proper, very traditional family, sex outside of marriage was not only a sin, but it was also a distraction. Boys and parties and fun were the enemies of discipline.

  Madeleine supposed that had to do with living with two men. Her father certainly had drilled into her nothing more than a steady regimen of study and an unwavering focus on preparing for her future. Anything else was superfluous. Her brother, Robert, was no better in that regard, either. But with him it was always a competition. Who had the higher GPA? Who was winning more awards? Certainly, Robert never veered from the course and still, even he spent his Saturday nights out with friends or girls.

  The very thought of her bringing a boy home to meet either of them had been ludicrous to her in high school.

  Maybe it would have been different if her mother had lived; maybe there could have been room for some balance in her life. Boys and clothes and dances. But there was no changing her past.

  It was her naïveté that made her such an easy target for Kevin.

  She’d been willing to do anything to keep him. So she’d fought with her modesty and her guilt over doing something she felt was innately wicked, and she’d had sex with him. She made him actually show her the condom he was going to use to ensure she wouldn’t get pregnant, never once telling him she was already on the pill, as she’d felt two precautions would be more effective than one. Eventually he’d become impatient with her, then finally frustrated with her lack of enthusiasm when she didn’t seem to be able to relax and enjoy it.

  It was only her unwillingness to fail at anything that finally saw the deed done.

  The next day, she’d overheard him in the hallway before debate class telling his friend what he’d accomplished. The conversation they had was very detailed as he revealed deep and personal information about her. By the end of it she’d been cured of any feelings she’d had for him.

  She’d been played. She certainly wasn’t the first woman. Hell, she doubted she was his first woman. What drove her mad was how stupid she’d been. How oblivious she was to every sign. Why had he pursued her so doggedly? Why was it that he loved absolutely everything she loved? Every movie, every restaurant. He had even loved sneaking into extra lectures that weren’t on their class list, which was her way of being bad. All of it had been a coordinated effort by him to check her off his list.

  The sex had brought her down a peg, she knew. The only thing that gave her any peace about the whole ordeal was that while she’d been pretending to be his intellectual inferior, he’d known the truth. He’d known she was smarter and that’s why he had targeted her.

  Madeleine figured most girls were able to shrug it off. Chalk it up to the guy being an asshole and move on to the next boy. But beyond his strict teachings, her father had also drilled in her a demand for excellence. It didn’t matter that she’d had no real chance to flirt or date in high school. It should have come naturally, like some built-in gift.

  She should have been better with boys. More secure, more confident, more…aware of what their actions meant. She shouldn’t have ever been targeted as a candidate for humiliation.

  To do anything that could be held to ridicule was unthinkable.

  The humiliation that was so much a part of her first sexual experience dogged her throughout college. She’d grown harder, colder, more closed off. Not exactly a man magnet when there were so many other willing coeds to choose from.

  When she’d started working, she was the new kid on the political circuit. Older, more mature men had seen all that aloofness she wrapped herself in and taken it as a challenge. And because she wanted to be free from her sexual prison, she let a few persuade her back into the bedroom. But the trust was never there and the people she’d been with seemed to know it.

  All of those experiences culminated in that last awful one. The one where she’d decided maybe she could be the user instead of the used. Maybe she could finally get what she wanted out of sex.

  Michael had been so right. About all of it.

  Stripping away all the denials and lies, she had to ask herself if what made him so compelling to her was the fact that he was impotent. Maybe she thought the two of them could drift along in platonic complacency forever.

  But no, that first night before she had known his secrets she had wanted him and had been willing to take the risk of going to bed with him. It had been like stepping off a high cliff. Part of her knew hitting bottom might be crushing, but she also knew the ride down could be worth it. With him.

  Then he’d confessed.

  Initially, it had seemed like such a perfect match on paper. He would be content with whatever she had to give because of what he couldn’t physically give her. And she could accept everything that he was giving her without worrying if he was ever going to want too much.

  Only he wasn’t happy. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to pleasure her. He wanted her to lay herself completely bare before him.

  A low groan emanated from her throat. It sounded a lot like self-disgust.

  Her ringing cell phone broke through her self-disdain. She wanted to ignore it, but knew she couldn’t. It could be Ben.

  Or it could be Michael.

  Calling her to tell her…what? That he was sorry? Hardly a reason to do that when she was in the wrong.

  Walking out into the suite, she picked up the phone she’d left on her desk.

  Anna’s name blinked up at her. Instantly she answered. “Anna. What is it?”

  “It’s Ben,” Anna said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “He’s going to try to kill himself.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MADELEINE STRODE DOWN the hospital hallway with purpose toward the visitors’ waiting room. She stopped when she saw Anna sitting there, alone in the room except for another woman who sat quietly in the corner with her knitting. To say Anna looked devastated was an understatement.

  Anna stood and walked toward her with less-than-s
teady steps. Madeleine met her halfway with her arms open. She embraced the younger woman and held her while she cried.

  “What happened?”

  “He’s a stubborn jackass. That’s what happened.”

  “Anna, talk to me. You scared the hell out of me last night when you told me. I’ve been scrambling ever since to get back here as soon as possible.”

  Madeleine guided Anna into two seats.

  “He wasn’t happy with how the treatment was going,” Anna said dully. “And you know Ben—all or nothing.”

  Madeleine could feel the hair on her arms stand up. She did know Ben and she didn’t like the sound of Anna’s voice. “What’s he doing?”

  “A radical chemo treatment followed by radiation to kill off the cancer followed by a bone-marrow transplant.”

  Madeleine gasped. She didn’t have to ask Anna why she was so scared. They had all done the research on his condition. A bone-marrow transplant was incredibly risky if Ben’s body rejected it. Graft-versus-host disease was deadly. And the chance of contracting GVHD without having a close genetic match was that much higher.

  “Whose marrow? Ben has no family that I know of.”

  “Exactly. His parents are dead. I found a second cousin in Boston, but he isn’t nearly close enough for a genetic match. And the odds of finding a match through the donor program are like hitting the lottery.”

  “Which leaves him only one option,” Madeleine said, thinking back to the articles she had read.

  “Yep. He’s going to use cells from an umbilical cord. The idea is the cells are so new the body might accept them better.”

  “I take it you’re not happy with his choice.”

  Anna’s head dropped into her hands. “He could have done another round of chemo, something stronger. He could have waited until the results of that came through before even considering doing this. The doctors talked about four levels of treatment, this being the most extreme. Ben was only through round one. He didn’t have to do this.”