Mariah: The M Series: Book Two

by Ryanne Anthony

  Thoughts of our sex entered my mind and I grinned again. Marcus. Mine. All mine, I hoped. I think that's something we had to have to talk about, soon.

  He said he loves us.

  I hope he meant it, because I love him.

  But he doesn't want children; we do. Better add that to your list of things to chat about.

  Yeah, I'd better... but not yet. And I had better stop talking to her before he had me committed then himself, for falling in love with a crazy woman.

  When we do talk about it, would I be able to accept what he had to say? I hadn't a clue as to what would make such a young person not want to have babies, but become a pediatrician. I found it odd.

  I couldn’t imagine my life without children in it. After growing up alone, I always said I would have at least two. It was lonely being the only child but he wouldn't know that because he has two brothers and a sister. That sounds like a fun home to grow up in and I wished I was able to keep my siblings.

  Too bad Mom and Pops didn't find each other earlier. I would've had at least three other siblings to scream the house down with on Christmas morning.

  No, I didn't want to dwell on that right now. Kids was not an urgent subject. The thought of them was a few years away, and I wanted to enjoy Marcus while I had him.

  Huh. Did I just make my choice?

  I’d say you did. And wisely, too. We’ll miss him when it was time to part, but until then, more of what we got last night.

  Deal!

  Tomorrow was Marcus’ birthday. I wished I'd known sooner. What should I get him? What would he like? What does he like? When would I have time to shop? Maybe I could go out at lunch and find something at the mall down the street from the clinic. Hopefully, Ms. Turner will send me somewhere with light work so I can have a few extra minutes, if needed, in the mall.

  Ms. Turner! Work!

  Shit!

  I had to get out of there. What was the time? I glanced around until I found a clock. 9:04.

  Shit!

  Mom's probably called every hospital in the state by now. I gotta call her and Lisa.

  It took some effort, but I managed to get out of Marcus' grip without waking him. I felt a sweet soreness in my sex as I moved around, not as bad as Saturday, but it's there.

  Where's my purse?

  Shit! In the office. I look around for something to put on. I saw Marcus' shirt and grabbed it. I pulled it over my head and pad out to a bathroom to clean up. Once finished, I went to the office and sat on the couch. I reached the phone on the floor and looked at the screen.

  Seventeen missed calls, five voice mails, and fifty-four waiting texts.

  Shit!

  I checked the missed calls first. Twelve from Mom, three from Lisa, two from Nathan.

  Shit!

  Next, I checked voicemail. All five were Mom and basically the same: “A little worried about you, honey. Please call me as soon as you get this.”

  Shit!

  Texts last. Ninety-seven percent was Lisa, of course.

  Watcha doin Cookie? ;)

  Coooooookieeeeeee!

  R u havn fun?

  Dnt 4get u hv wrk 2mrw!

  Damn! How long can he go? :D

  Then the one I knew was in there somewhere.

  Call Mom. FREAKING OUT!

  “SHIT,” I loudly exclaimed, then covered my mouth. I didn't want to wake Marcus yet. I listened for a moment, but there was still silence. Good. I called Lisa first.

  “Hey, Cookie. You okay?”

  “Hey, Twink,” I whispered. “Yeah, I'm good. You guys okay?”

  “Yeah, we're good, too. Just watching a movie. Coming up for air,” she whispered then giggled.

  I smiled. “Good. I'll call Mom then wake Marcus. I should be there in an hour.”

  “No problem, Cookie. I wasn't worried; I know who you're with. Mom was about to blow a gasket, though.”

  I groaned. “I bet. I fell asleep and I didn't have time to call.”

  Nathan laughed in the background. “Is that Mariah? Put it on speaker, I wanna talk to her. Bug?”

  “What, Nathan?”

  “Are you being a good girl, Bug?” I heard the tease in his voice.

  “Yes and no, Deet. Anything else?”

  “Yeah.” He then whispered, “Lisa polished off your Oreos.”

  I laughed. Lisa prefers chocolate chip cookies and I knew Nathan loves them. I'd once seen him devour an entire package and a quart of milk after a twelve-hour, overnight shift. He had to be the culprit.

  “NATHAN! I did not! You know better than that, Cookie!”

  I knew it. I covered my mouth as I giggled. “I do know better, Twink. I'm kicking your ass when I see you, Deet! You’re buying me more in the morning!”

  “Blah, blah, Bug. Get off the phone!”

  “All right, you guys be good.”

  “Yeah. About as good as you've been today! Bye,” Nathan laughed.

  “Bye!” I laughed again as I ended the call.

  Now Mom. I laid across the couch, brought up my knees and cross my ankles. I grabbed some hair and twirled it as I waited for her to answer and drill me.

  “Mariah,” she breathed out in relief. “Are you okay? Where are you?

  “Hi, Mom.” I tried to sound relaxed. “Yes, I'm fine. I'm still with Marcus.”

  “I thought so, but I wasn't sure. He's a charming man, Mariah. I like him. You should hang on to him and enjoy life.”

  Marcus appeared in the doorway then. He'd put on the shorts he had on earlier. I smiled at him. He smiled back, pointed to himself and then the couch. I nodded my head.

  “Yes, I agree with you, one-hundred percent.”

  He kissed the top of my forehead then moved toward my feet, raised my ankles then slid close to my bottom and lowered my legs across his lap. I looked at him as he snaked his hand under his shirt I'm wearing.

  “Is he any good in the sack, honey?”

  My eyes widened and I gasped, “Mom! Really? Not now!”

  Marcus' finger circled my nipple. I looked at him and smiled again. He blew me a kiss.

  “I'm just saying, honey, he moves kind of fluidly; that can be a good thing in bed. You know, to maneuver around.”

  I inhaled sharply. “Oh my God!”

  “It's so you don't have to do the same positions. Variety,” she stated.

  I turned beet red and looked at the far wall. I ran my hand through my hair and tightened my fist, wondering how we were having this particular conversation.

  “MOM! Please! I'm begging you! Stop now,” I whispered.

  “Is he there, near you now,” she whispered back.

  I turned and looked at him. “Yes, sitting next to me.” I chuckled, “Mom, why are you whispering? He can't hear you!”

  She laughed. “Oh! Of course not! I don't know, honey. Let me talk to him.”

  I gave a little snort, “No way!”

  “Mariah, I'm your mother. I won't embarrass you.”

  “You already have and he can't even hear you,” I sighed, whispering again.

  “Give him your cell, honey,” she urged gently.

  I moved the phone from my ear and shook my head as I held out the thing to Marcus. I put my arm over my eyes. I couldn't even look at him.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Harvey. How are you?”

  Pause.

  “Okay, I will and no, I haven't, but I will as soon as she's finished speaking with you.”

  Pause.

  “No, I didn't know that.”

  Pause.

  Marcus laughed loud, rubbing my thigh. “Is that right? Well, thank you for the compliment. Let's hope she listens to you.”

  Pause.

  “Yes, that's true. Just like her mother.”

  Pause.

  “Still do,” he chuckled. “Always. Since day one.”

  Pause.

  “Yes, Rachel, I can say that is a definite, but I'd have to speak to Thomas about it, first. Soon, I hope.”

  Pause.


  “Yes, I look forward to it, too. Good night.”

  He grinned as he gave back the phone.

  “Mom?”

  “Absolutely charming, honey. You can't do any better.”

  “Um, Mom... don't you think you're moving a little fast?”

  “No, I don't. And don't feel you should slow down. Life is too short.” She sniffled and I knew she's thinking of my dad and the twins.

  “I know, Mom,” I whispered. “Don't cry. I know how fleeting it is.”

  “It is,” Mom sighed. “I'm going to bed, now that I know you're safe. Hug Marcus for me. I love you, honey.”

  “I will, Mom. I love you, too. Good night to you and Pops.”

  “I'll tell him. Good night, honey.”

  I hit the end key and sighed as I looked at Marcus. “On a scale of one to ten, how embarrassed should I be right now?”

  “Nine,” he replied, looking very serious.

  “Oh, God,” I croaked and sat up, putting my head on my knees.

  He laughed. “I'm kidding! Come back up, baby!”

  I raised my head and observed him. He was wearing a big toothy smile while his eyes twinkled. He was so cute, I wanted to kiss him. Instead, I punched him. He laughed again and pulled me to him; my arms squeezed him.

  “You're allergic to carrots, huh?”

  “Yeah, they give me welts... wait... did my mom just tell you that?”

  “Yes, after she asked if I made sure you had eaten tonight.”

  I groaned in frustration which made him chuckle again. We sat in silence for a few moments. I was enjoying him holding me but I really needed to get home and sleep.

  “What are you thinking,” he asked against my hair.

  “That I need to shower and get out of here. We both have work in the morning and it's almost ten.”

  He quieted a moment, then cleared his throat. “Well, Miss Hollander, I'm tired. I don't feel like driving you all the way home and then come all the way back here. So I guess you'll have to stay the night.”

  All the way?

  I smirked, thinking, it's twenty minutes each way, tops. “You could pack some stuff and stay with me,” I whispered. “The night, I mean.”

  He grinned then adopts his serious look. “I could, but then I’d still have to drive there. And no, you can’t drive, either. Doctor’s orders. You’re as tired as I am, baby.”

  I frowned at him. “Marcus...”

  “Besides, I promised your mother I'd feed you. That will take some time and by the time we're done eating, it'll be after midnight. You wouldn't leave me on my birthday, would you,” he said then pouted, cutely, and batted his eyes, adorably.

  He didn't want me to go. I smiled. God, he is charming!

  I could eat him up!

  “Not fair, Dr. Alexander, once again,” I murmured, shaking my head. I sent a text to Lisa, letting her know I was staying.

  He smiled and stood up and held out a hand to me. Fluidly, just like Mom said.

  Lisa texted back:

  Okay. C U 2mrw. :)

  I placed the phone on the table and took his hand. He put his arm around my neck and kissed my temple.

  “Now, let's go do something about a shower,” he murmured.

  We showered together and of course, we did more than wash ourselves. I wasn’t going to be any good at work tomorrow with my jellied legs.

  Marcus put on pajama bottoms and gave me the matching shirt and some boxer briefs to wear while he made us a salad. I sat on a bar stool and watched him move around the kitchen, completely fascinated by the grace in which he progressed. Washing, chopping, whisking, and tossing. It all looked... rehearsed.

  When he finished, he sat next to me and put a bowl in front of me. It looked like art! I was afraid to touch it. I just sat there staring at it.

  “What's the matter? You don't like Cobb Salad,” he asked. “I can make you something else.”

  I looked at him and frowned. He couldn’t be real. I had to be dreaming.

  “What planet are you from,” I asked, serious as hell.

  He chuckled. “What?”

  “You cannot be real, Marcus. I have to be in a hospital, in a coma somewhere.”

  He pinched my upper arm.

  “Ow! Marcus,” I shrieked as I rubbed where he pinched.

  He laughed then kissed my arm. “Nope, you're not dreaming. I must be real. Eat.”

  I picked up my fork and took a bite. “Mmm. This is good. What else can you make?”

  He grinned as he stood. “Anything, pretty much.”

  I shook my head and had another bite. “Well, like what?”

  At the refrigerator, he took out two bottled waters. When he turned to come back to his seat, he shrugged. “Literally, anything. Soups, salads, entrees, desserts.”

  He opened a water then set it in front of me. I picked it up, had a drink then silently ate again as I thought about my favorite dessert. My salad was now half gone.

  “Desserts? Can you make that cake with the coconut and pecans all over the top?”

  He smiled and nodded. “German chocolate cake? Yes, I can make that.”

  “Miss Helen always made that for me on my birthday,” I said quietly. “I haven't had one since my fifteenth.”

  She was the closest thing to a grandmother I'd had since Aunt Mattie died. I can still see her pretty, cocoa-colored face with the outrageous pink blush she was so fond of. Tears welled up and spilled. My appetite left me and I put my fork down.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, wiping my tears away. “I’m always nostalgic about her around my birthday.”

  He pulled me close and rubbed my back. “That's okay, baby.” He kissed my hair. “At least, you ate half of it and I've kept my promise to your mother.”

  I groaned as I dried my face. “Really? I'll be thirty in four years and still, she acts like I'm twelve!”

  He laughed. “She doesn't think you're twelve, especially with you being alone here with me. The police would have been here by now.”

  I blushed. “You're right.”

  Marcus emptied the bowls in the compactor and placed them in the dishwater. I held my chin on my fist and stared in awe. If he hadn't just spent the afternoon fucking my brains out, I'd swear he was one of the gay dancers from my dance classes.

  He leaned on the counter opposite me, mimicking my pose, and looked in my eyes.

  “What are you thinking about so deeply, baby?”

  “Are you bi-sexual, Marcus,” I blurted out.

  His eyebrows shot up then he laughed. “No, baby, I'm not. I am enthralled by women and their beautiful bodies, especially yours. What brought that on?”

  “Well, I know you're not homosexual… unless you can put on one hell of a private show.”

  He smiled shyly.

  “I just can't figure out why you're so graceful. Fluid, Mom said. It's not a natural grace; it’s more… I guessed ‘rehearsed’ is the word. It's something that has to be learned.”

  He walked around the counter to me and tugged me off the stool. He took my hand and led me into the office.

  “Put your shoes on.”

  I frowned. Did I offend him? Is he taking me home?

  Shit.

  After I put on my shoes, he took my hand again and we went to his bare living room. He clicked on a light, dimmed it, then walked me to the middle of the room.

  “Stay,” he whispered. He kissed my nose and left me standing there.

  I looked around the room and notice a small door flush with the entry wall. I stood silently as I waited for his return, turning a little to look at the magnificent view from the window.

  When Marcus returned, he is wearing a t-shirt, black dress shoes and holding a CD. He opened the little door on the wall to reveal a stereo.

  Ooh, we're going to dance.

  I looked around and finally up to see the speakers in the ceiling.

  Good thing we're on the top floor.

  When I regarded Marcus, he was staring at me, waiting fo
r my attention to return to him. He clicked the remote and slid it in the back pocket of his pajama bottoms.

  I heard the entry to a waltz. I frowned. Who told him I could dance ballroom?

  He bowed and held out his left hand, downward.

  “My lady, may I have this dance,” he graciously asked.

  I inhaled and glided to put my hand into his. We saluted and stood in closed position.

  “Miss Hollander, you surprise me.”

  “Oh, Dr. Alexander, you have no idea what you've just started.”

  On cue with the music, he started us and we glided through his huge living room. We spin and twirl, dip and stride, picked up with the swell and slowed with the lull. When the song winded down he twirled me twice and brought me back to end with the song in perfect sync.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and his arm circled my shoulders. In all the years of ballroom dancing, I had never connected and moved so fluidly with anyone as I did with Marcus.

  “You really didn't know about my ballroom dancing,” I asked, a little winded.

  “No, baby, I didn't. I just wanted to show you why I appear to be graceful, as you say. Ten years of ballroom training, eight to eighteen. My brothers, too. Our mother insisted.”

  “I did nine, from ten to nineteen. It was the only 'sport' everyone could agree on for me; well, that and swimming.”

  He kissed my head and smiled. “Miss Hollander, we must do this again, very soon.”

  I smiled back. “I'd love to, Dr. Alexander.”

  “Let's go back to bed, baby. I feel like dancing again.”

  I blushed scarlet. “Okay.”

  Marcus embraced me and we waltzed to the bedroom, only stopping for him to turn off the stereo.

  Chapter Eleven

  Happy Birthday, Marcus. Thank you for my gifts…

  Thanks to Marcus, this year's Fourth of July would probably go down in my personal history as the best ever. I had a beautiful time talking and laughing and making love all afternoon and most of the night with him. He had the stamina of a bull.

  I don't know what time we finally went to sleep, but his alarm woke us at five. I groaned when it startled me awake and looked at the time.

  “Why so early,” I whined and put my head under the covers, attempting to hide from the morning.