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One Final Step

Page 18

by Stephanie Doyle


  He would take it in stride, he told himself. He’d woken up with an early morning boner and he and his girlfriend had made love. It had been a little quick but it had been good. When she’d squeezed herself all around him, he’d felt her come.

  That had been hot.

  So no big deal. A typical morning with his girlfriend.

  Michael rubbed his hand over his chest and tried to think about what he was feeling. But it was too much. He couldn’t hold on to any one thought or any one feeling.

  She was watching him. He could feel it. Scrubbing both hands over his face he could feel the dampness left by his tears and rubbed them away.

  Crying…what a pussy.

  He had to say something. Words immediately leaped to his lips, but he knew the statement was the stupidest damn thing to say. Still, he couldn’t help it.

  Rolling toward her, he could see she was still wearing her cotton T-shirt. He hadn’t even managed to get that off, just slid his hands under it to cup her full breasts. He also hadn’t sucked on her nipples. He wanted to do that. Wanted to pull them in his mouth and listen to her sigh his name. Next time.

  Next time?

  Don’t think about it, he told himself. This was all for now, and it would be enough. But he had to tell her something. She was so perfect lying there with a soft smile and eyes that said she knew him too well.

  “I know this is probably the absolute worst thing to say right now…but I love you.”

  She flinched. Probably not a good sign. Then she reached out to touch his face again. “Michael…”

  He reached for her hand and caught it, then brought it to his lips and chuckled.

  “I know. I know. Impotent man finally has non-chemically-enhanced sex and his first orgasm in eighteen years, he’s bound to be a bit…sentimental. But I don’t think it’s any less true.”

  She was wary. He could see it in her eyes. So little trust. It made sense she wouldn’t trust what he said in this moment. In this huge and miraculous moment. It made sense that she couldn’t say it back because she didn’t know how real his feelings were. Or if they were simply the words of a very grateful man.

  He understood it, but it didn’t make him happy. Madeleine Kane had to be his. She had to be.

  But she had talked to him on the phone without her shoes on, and she’d invited him into her house, and more importantly, she’d gotten completely naked in bed. This morning she’d let him come inside her body.

  A wise man called that progress and didn’t try to push for too much.

  “Okay, let’s drop that topic. Can I say one more thing?”

  “You can say anything you want.”

  It seemed silly and he considered holding his tongue but this was Madeleine.

  “Thank you. You’re a really great lay.”

  She giggled at his rough language like he knew she would. Because his Madeleine would always be shocked by his rough ways and dirty language. He wondered if she would ever admit that she liked it. Maybe next time he would talk dirty in her ear and see how she responded to that.

  Next time. Yeah, it felt right. Like something had shifted inside him and this weight that had been pinning him down all these years was finally gone.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, like a very proper lady.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Four weeks later

  “AGAIN,” MICHAEL WHISPERED into her ear as he felt the last of her orgasm subside around his still-hard cock. He wanted more for her. He wanted more for them both.

  “I can’t. It’s too much,” she groaned even as her hips rocked in time with his.

  “Yes, you can.” She would take everything he could give her because what if this time it was the last time? What if the memories came back and he changed back into the person he was?

  Stop thinking that. You have to stop thinking that!

  Michael would have loved to tell his brain exactly what to think, but unfortunately, he was finding he had little control over it. Four weeks of sex. Four weeks of Madeleine. Four weeks of feeling like a whole human being and still he wondered if this was for real.

  If it would end.

  If it did, then he needed to enjoy every moment of this. He needed to eat up every ounce of delicious pleasure that had been denied to him for so long. He needed her to feel how it could be between them so in case he did revert she would at least know that this was how much he wanted her.

  He’d made love to her like a man obsessed with sex for the past few weeks they’d spent living here at her house. Only stopping to eat, visit Ben and take care of the most basic chores. In the beginning he wondered if she would be put off by this need. Of course she could understand why a man who hadn’t reached an orgasm in the past eighteen years might be greedy. At one point he actually stopped to ask if she was doing this for him because she knew he needed it. Of course she said no.

  After all, he had once accused her of not enjoying sex.

  That clearly had been a mistake.

  Because every time he turned to her, every time he touched her, she responded. It was like she, too, had been stuck in some kind of sexual stasis and was also enjoying the freedom of finally being released.

  There were times when even he didn’t think he had anything left in him that she would suddenly roll on top of him and demand that he take her.

  Never once had his body failed him. Not with her.

  “Michael, please,” she groaned, wrapping her leg around his waist as he thrust and twisted his hips hoping to hit her in the right spot with the right amount of pressure....

  There. He could feel her muscles spasm around him again, clasping him to her so hard he wondered if they might never be separated. Then it came, that delicious rush that raced down his spine and up his balls until he was coming and shuddering on top of her.

  There had been times, in all those years of faking it with other women, that he’d told himself sex without an orgasm was still pleasurable. The rubbing together of bodies, the taste of a woman’s breast in his mouth. Yes, once he’d tried to convince himself that coming wasn’t all that important.

  What a crock of shit.

  “Please don’t let this end,” he said as he pulled away from her body, utterly and gloriously spent.

  He rolled onto his back and felt her turn toward him, tucking her body around him as if they were two jigsaw-puzzle pieces coming together. It was late and they both wanted to get an early start tomorrow as the doctor was going to make his decision regarding Ben’s release from the hospital. He felt no guilt at all letting himself drift into an easy sleep after making love to his woman.

  “Do you think it will?”

  The question brought him out of his drowsy state.

  “Do I think what will?” He wasn’t sure he understood the context of the question. Had he said something to her, right there at the end?

  Madeleine propped her body up so she could look into his face. Although the light was out in her bedroom, the moonlight illuminated her features.

  “Do you think this is going to end? Is that why we’ve been going at it like…like…”

  “Rabbits?”

  “I was going to say monkeys but rabbits works, too.” He could see her frowning. He didn’t want that. Not after something that had been so beautiful. “I don’t want to think that this is some kind of race. Us against some ticking clock in your head. It shouldn’t be like that.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know why it suddenly happened that I became whole again. And I don’t know if it will stay this way.” I don’t know if it will only ever work with you. He didn’t want to say that, though. That was too much pressure to lay on anyone.

  “You should talk to someone again.” She nudged him, then settled her head in the crook of his arm where he liked for her to be.

  “It didn’t work the last time.”

  “That’s because you were looking for someone to fix you. Nobody could have done that, Michael.”

  “Is it imp
ortant to you?”

  She hesitated and he could tell she wanted him to make the decision on his own. But he’d hated talking to shrinks. Hated opening himself up. Hated handing over his secrets. So if he was going back he wanted to be able to say it was only to make her happy. Because he was coming to find out he would do anything to make her happy.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll go. I’ll make an appointment as soon as we get back to Detroit.”

  * * *

  “MICHAEL, this is a surprise.”

  Michael shook hands with Dr. Sheffield before sitting down across from him in the oversize leather chair. There was a couch, of course, but he’d certainly never felt the need to lie down on it in all the times he’d been here before.

  Dr. Sheffield looked the same as Michael remembered. Messy gray hair with an out-of-control mustache. He wore sweater-vests, which Michael didn’t think modern men did anymore, and he always looked like he was happy to be exactly where he was. Which was interesting, considering the guy basically had to listen to other people’s shit all day.

  “When I saw your name on my schedule I was really pleased. I thought you had given up on me completely.”

  Michael didn’t want to confess that he had. That he’d basically concluded no one could do anything for him. He figured it wouldn’t be a good start to their session. But he also knew, especially with Dr. Sheffield, that lying to his therapist wasn’t helpful, either. Not if he hoped to make any progress.

  “I had given up. For a time. I guess, when it wasn’t working, I didn’t see the point.”

  The doctor shrugged. “Most don’t. People come to see a psychologist with a lot of expectations. That I can give them answers they are looking for, that I can tell them what they are doing wrong in their lives and how to fix it. That I can cure them. You’re too smart for that, I think. You always were.”

  Maybe not. Michael at one time had believed that seeing a doctor would make his problems go away. It only made sense. If there was something wrong with you physically a doctor should be able to fix you. If there was something wrong with you mentally then a shrink should do the same. Madeleine was right about that. His expectations had been too high.

  Of all the shrinks he’d seen, he’d liked Dr. Sheffield the most. The man didn’t offer any bullshit. Just his impressions and his understanding.

  “So why did you come back?”

  “I had an erection.” Michael closed his eyes briefly, embarrassed that saying the words could still choke him up.

  “Did you orgasm?”

  “Yes.” Michael was uncomfortable talking about this with another man. But this was a man who knew everything about him, anyway.

  “That’s excellent. Can you talk about it?”

  Not able to stay still, Michael stood and started pacing behind the chair while the doctor sat calmly and listened.

  “I met someone. A woman I care very much about. Oh, hell, I love her. I can say that to you, although she doesn’t like to hear it very much.”

  “What’s she like?”

  This, Michael thought, was his favorite topic. “She’s amazing. She’s brilliant and strong. She’s poised and elegant. But she’s also warm and generous. Comforting. Like this home base I never had. I could listen to her for hours, but she’s not someone who talks for the sake of hearing herself. I’m always fascinated by her. She makes me play board games, which I find ridiculous, but I play them, anyway, mostly so I can watch her get fiercely competitive. Which is a total turn-on.”

  “Do you mean that literally?”

  Michael laughed. “Very literally. Like two times a day literally. I think she’s starting to wonder what she unleashed. It is crazy. I knew when I first met her that she was different. And it wasn’t easy between us and it took time. I had to tell her the truth first…”

  “You told her what happened to you in prison.”

  “I had to. She caught me trying to take a pill and I had to tell her the truth.”

  “You didn’t have to do anything,” Dr. Sheffield told him. “I suspect if you go back and think about it, you’ll see maybe you knew you could tell her. Or maybe you’ll find you even wanted to tell her.”

  “No way. I would never have wanted to tell her that. It’s too ugly. But it was either the truth or risk losing her. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  Slowly the doctor nodded. “So she became more important than your secret.”

  Yes. Michael could see that clearly.

  “And when that happened,” Sheffield continued, “your secret became less important to you. You could start to put the events of your past in perspective.”

  “You’re saying telling her the truth cured me.”

  “Cured is a strong word. Yes, you can get an erection now. Have sex now. But you still decided to come back and see me.”

  He was about to say Madeleine had told him to, but he stopped. The truth was he didn’t mind being back here. As much as he hated opening himself up like this, he knew this was a good thing. Or maybe he was hoping to find a second opinion to confirm he was indeed fixed. “I guess I wanted to figure out why now. Why with her?”

  “I can tell you from listening to you talk about her that your feelings for her seem very real. You chose to tell her your secret, so you trust her. That, combined with what I imagine is a strong sexual attraction to this woman, helped you overcome the trauma of your past.”

  “You make it sound easy. Like I could have done this all along.”

  “Maybe you could have.”

  “But I didn’t. Not until I fell in love. And I have to tell you, the idea that love saved me seems really lame here.”

  “No. Love is a wonderful and very powerful emotion, but I would never say that someone else was responsible for what you accomplished. You fixed you, Michael. You figured out how to open yourself to someone. You decided to trust this person. You found a way to let go of the past and its hold on you. You did that.”

  Michael stopped moving and realized how good those words made him feel. It wasn’t just Madeleine who healed him. Which meant even if he lost her, he wouldn’t go back to life as it was before.

  Because he had to face the reality that he still might lose her. After weeks of standing by her side while she was there for Ben, after weeks of living together in her house and sharing a life with her, after weeks of making love to her freely, she still hadn’t said she loved him.

  Michael sat again in the leather chair, his elbows on his knees with his hands interlocked. “I think I was afraid if I lost her…it would all go away.”

  “And you’re worried about losing her.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed, leaning back in the chair. This was good, he thought. He needed to talk about this with someone. “I guess you could say she has issues.”

  “Most people do. In one form or another.”

  Madeleine would be angry with him for doing this. But the man wasn’t a reporter or someone who would ever violate the confidentiality of a therapy session.

  “She’s Madeleine Kane.”

  “Madeleine… Why do I know that name? Is she an actress…? Oh. Wait. That Madeleine Kane?”

  “Yep.” The doctor said nothing and Michael continued. “I’m having a hard time getting her to trust me. I can see it happening in bits and pieces but she’s not all the way there.”

  “You want it to happen faster.”

  “I want her. Period. Like, yesterday.”

  “I would tread carefully, Michael. Given what I know of her past, which really isn’t any more than the media reported, I would imagine she would have to be cautious with any relationship.”

  “Cautious doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

  “If she’s opening up to you, let her continue to do so at her pace. She’ll need to feel comfortable. I would also imagine she’ll need to feel very, very safe.”

  “There is nothing to be afraid of anymore. I keep trying to tell her that. All that stuff she went through is over.”
r />   “Over in your opinion. But maybe not over for her. Just as for so long what happened in prison wasn’t over for you.”

  Michael nodded. “Slow and steady…”

  “Wins the race. Or possibly the girl, in this case.” The older man smiled as he spoke.

  Michael stood and offered his hand to the doctor. “Thanks for this. This was good.”

  “You’ll come back?”

  “Do I need to?”

  “Only if you want to, Michael.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I didn’t really have anyone I could talk to about her. She’ll barely be seen with me in public. I mean it when I say she has issues. She’s got issues.”

  “Of course she does,” the doctor said. “She was willing to pursue a relationship with an impotent man. That tells me a lot.”

  Michael tried not to be bothered by that statement, but all the way home he wondered which version of himself Madeleine felt safer with.

  * * *

  “I DIDN’T wake you?” Ben asked over the phone.

  “No,” Madeleine lied. “Of course not.” Because lying around in bed with her lover until the late morning was entirely too indulgent.

  In truth, the ringing phone had woken them both, but she couldn’t be mad when it was Ben calling. At his command they had left Philadelphia last week, as his condition continued to improve daily. He’d already been released from the hospital several days early with the stipulation he remain at home for another two weeks of strict quarantine. But so far all signs were good.

  The cancer was gone. And no signs of rejecting the bone marrow. He was still weak and exhausted a lot of the time, but the doctors said over time he would get his strength back.

  “I was curious about when the interview is happening. You hadn’t said when you were here.”

  “Actually, Peg is coming out this afternoon with a film crew to get started. She says it should take a few days to get all the footage she wants,” Madeleine said into her cell. Peg had called last week to set up the schedule. A few days of shooting and the interview would air in two weeks.

 

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